"It is only my youngest that disappoints me," Christine said.
Val frowned. "Halvar and Sten think she's doing awesome for a rookie who just started training today."
Christine sighed, shaking her head. "In a single day she exceeds all her previous training in the ways of the mind. Her Castling abilities are only passing-fair, little better than when she was a child, and nowhere near good enough to face true Highlords. But her Psionic Blasts are unlike anything I’ve ever seen! And her mastery of magic, I couldn't be prouder. But this? No. I need her to be better! I know it's not fair, but we're about to enter the gauntlet, and a battle-mech could keep her safe like nothing else!"
Christine turned to Val, gaze intent. "She will be in good company, Val. It is now custom for Highlords to seek compatible pilots and entice them into their pride. More than a few noble daughters can now pilot their mother’s battle-mechs as well as they wield their father’s Psiblades. Tell Julia the next time she... levels up, I expect her to have basic competence with her battle-mech."
Val tilted his head, gazing intently at the Highlord. "What about Psiblade? Or Castling her mind? What about really maximizing Psionic Blast? What about increasing how many Psions and Mana she has to cast her deadly spells and launch more Psionic attacks? What about mastering Titan's Blast yet another tier, so she can cast it in half the time?" He smiled at Christine's suddenly flustered gaze. "There are a lot of directions she could go, and my only concern is that she chooses what works best for her build. Besides," he said, peering down at the map once more, "Rank 1 in any skill is the easiest to learn. She'll get far more bang for her buck by putting points into skills only after she's mastered the basics."
Christine nodded. "Logical. Very well, Valor. I will leave my daughter's advancement in your capable hands. I have given you feedback as to what our next step should be. But ultimately, it's up to you and her. Now, best we prepare a schedule so all of you can maximize your potential in the time we have! Elise shall instruct Julia in the ways of the mind during the afternoons, after my youngest trains with battle-mechs in the morning."
She poured herself a drink from the chilled carafe of sangria on the table before them, taking a thoughtful sip while gazing at the dueling battle-mechs once more. "I suppose I should allow her an hour each day to further master her Titan's Blast. It is our trump card to play, should the Blackenthorps dare to attack us yet again! And now that my youngest has been forced to embrace that which was too long forgotten, I will trust Elise to assist her in achieving eventual mastery of the Psiblade as well. This way she will be best positioned to excel when it is time for her to 'level up' once more."
Christine flashed Val a winning smile. "This is what I admire most about you, dearest Valor. You are open to suggestions and are well aware of the prudence of following the advice of your elders, especially those with your best interests at heart. Together, we shall make the Highblood clan the most revered and feared of all Jordia’s clans, just you wait and see!"
Val flashed a cynical smile. He knew Christine would keep her oath, Val having asked only that she not use her Psionic powers to harm or influence his friends and family. Christine had agreed unstintingly, grateful he was giving her free rein as administrator of Highblood Province, for all intents and purposes allowed to carry on just as she had before, save knowing that a contender for the throne had her back.
But nothing said she couldn't try to manipulate him in other ways, as seemed to come second nature to his future mother-in-law.
A scary thought, that.
"Christine?"
"Yes, Val?"
"I'm still going."
Christine's golden eyes blazed with sudden heat. "You're being a damned fool, Val. If we lose you, we lose everything! Think, Val. If you will just bide your time, our enemies will have no defense! The whole world will fall to its knees begging for your mercy!" She blinked, shaking her head. "You know what I mean. The Blackenthorps struck at the perfect time. Just before our upgrades were complete, when our systems were most vulnerable. But now, between our newly reinforced generators and military-grade force field, we could hold off a score of battle-mechs indefinitely! And with what will soon be a full legion of mercenary soldiers backing our claim for the throne, we'll have an edge we couldn't hope for otherwise! But should you be so foolish as to strike now, Val, 300 soldiers and four battle-mechs opposing 7,000 soldiers and twice the mecha while trying to penetrate a highly fortified city is tantamount to suicide!"
Val nodded. "I know." He locked gazes with Christine and she paled. For all her promises not to peer, perhaps she had. "I'm not risking my friends on any fatal mission. I'm going alone."
"But that's suicide, you fool! You walk the King's Path, and all of us are now pieces on your board, Valor! If you fall, we all do.”
Val flashed a dark smile. "You already know how much Elementium and Silbion I have in storage. Consider it reconnaissance with the option to blow it all to hell, should I choose. If death is the card I put in play, I won't be seeking to capture Blackenthorp's city-state."
His gaze hardened. "I will utterly destroy it."
Christine paled, before slowly nodding. "Perhaps that would be for the best, Valor. Perhaps that would be better than the other path we could embrace."
Val shrugged. "Or perhaps there is a third path. A way to claim the city without any lives being unnecessarily lost. But the one thing we need that we do not have..."
"Is a Dauda to scout out the terrain, to inform us of the opportunities before us."
Val nodded. "Precisely. I'm going alone, Christine. And rest assured, I'll do whatever needs to be done."
Christine frowned. "Val. Shadowmind is a powerful gift. But if it were to fail you for even a moment..."
Val grimaced, well aware of how close he had come to death, just hours ago. "I know," he said. "If I'm caught, I'm dead."
Christine’s face was tight with poorly concealed worry. "Are you sure about this, Valor? Even if this works, whatever the laws of reciprocity, no matter that it can be argued that the Blackenthorps broke treaty first with that mind-slaved technician, the use of exothermics..."
"The Blackenthorps rigged that poor fool with explosive flasks, and a Justiciar cannot penalize for retribution matching the original assault. You said it yourself, Christine."
"Yes, Val. But that doesn't stop the future Overlord from demanding all our heads, should we fail to take the throne. And this act would give him the perfect pretext!"
Val nodded. "I know. Can you think of a better option? We're playing for keeps, Christine. You know that every bit as well as I."
23
"So that's the plan," Val said, gazing at his friends. "Right now, we have the initiative. Legally no one can attack us until two weeks pass, or we initiate the assault. And if we're lucky, no one will even know I was behind enemy lines until after I've done whatever it is I need to do."
Chris, still wearing his Mech helmet, grinned and shook his head. "You don't think small, do you, my man."
Halvar laughed, clapping his newest protege on the back. "No, he does not, friend Christopher. Once Val gets an idea on his head, he just acts. I'm glad he's keeping us in the know, for once."
Sten frowned, fingers absently scratching the recently unsealed chrome ports which had revealed a surprisingly talented mech pilot that afternoon. Elise sighed, grabbing the stray hand with her one good limb. Val knew it would take at least a week for her to fully regenerate her missing hand, assuming they didn't accelerate the process with the healing potions he had given her earlier.
Sten turned to Elise and shared a smile. "It's completely insane, of course, trying to remain undetected in a city-state of that size, but considering the corner our enemies have boxed us into, it also suits the situation perfectly." He nodded Halvar's way. "Just like Captain Rincey of the First Lions, no?"
Halvar's human eye widened. "You’re right. Hiring a lone Dauda skilled at cloaking to scout out enemy terrain is exactly what he'd a
dvise his employer to do, swearing they made just as good scouts as they did assassins." He sighed. "Too bad about what went down on Excellon IV. If there was one unit I'd hire for our cause..."
Val turned Halvar's way. "If you think of any other merc outfits you trust, let me know. We could use them, and I'll pay well, assuming they don't mind being oath-bound for the duration of our contract, if nothing else."
Halvar frowned. "If you're going to soul-bond them, they'll demand a 30% pay hike above standard rate."
Val smiled. "As long as their fees are even halfway reasonable, done."
Sten chuckled. "Just the kind of employer our old unit would work for. He might be light on the mechs, but we should get in touch with Captain Maxwell. It's been a few years, but if he hasn't lost his touch..."
"He hasn't," Halvar assured. "And he did take your advice, as pissed as he was about you jumping ship and pursuing the life of a pilot. It took some finessing, but he secured half a dozen battle-mechs and knows just where to put them in any engagement for his style of hit and run tactics. He uses them almost like artillery, equipping and training them with Mark II Gamma Blasters. Piss-poor rate of fire, but when they hit, it's a game changer. And their range is sniper-class, well able to scan for and shoot down fighters as well. It's been a couple years, but I'll put out some feelers."
He turned to Val. "I know you got the coin, considering you now hold the lion's share of our fortune in Elementium. You sure you don't want to hold off? Solo scouting is beyond dangerous, and if we had Maxwell's long-range artillery backup, we could strike multiple targets in the city if you require distraction or misdirection at a far enough range we're unlikely to be flanked."
Val shook his head. "Now's the time. Before the Blackenthorps have readied themselves for a second strike, while they are still regrouping. And even if we are now up a handful of battle-mechs, our last battle was too close. With so many troops and mechanized units at their disposal, let's not give them a second chance to get it right."
Yin whistled. "That was incredible, Val. You actually brought two of those beauties back to life, and I can’t tell you what a rush it is to pilot them!" She gave Val an impulsive hug before smiling sheepishly at a bemused Julia. "Thank you, Val, for letting us Spirit Link with you while you were repairing the mecha. I haven’t even invested any points in the spells you used, and I already feel like it will be second nature for me to cast!”
Val grinned, genuinely impressed with how graceful she and Chris had both been in the pilot seat. Chris’s ability to access and harness the battle-mech’s reserves had awed even Halvar, and that Yin had actually been able to cast magics without frying her mecha was nothing short of incredible.
“She's so beautiful." Yin sighed. "Incredible as it is that you could repair her, it's a damn shame you couldn't clean out the pilot seat. I swear I still smell the blood."
Val stared at his friend until she blushed and lowered her head. "This is for real, Yin. When our grace period is over, we're going on the offensive and cutting down any resistance we find, no hesitation. If you'd rather stay here and play defense in the months ahead, that could also work."
Yin gave an adamant shake of her head. "Hell, no. I'm in this for real! I might not quite be a match for the ridiculously gifted Chris who just got a boosted Cybermancer class, but as a newly minted Arcane Mech-Warrior, as soon as I figure out the best way to combine magic with mecha, I'll be your left-hand girl, right next to Julia.” She flashed a grin, squeezing Julia’s hand. “And when we emerge victorious, you can make me a noble with a sweet slice of property that will have my mother green with envy!"
Val chuckled at that. "Deal. We'll find a piece of territory and make you an administrator." He frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, when things are more stable, if any of you want to do some magical research with me, I just might have a mystic tower you'd love to explore."
Yin's eyes widened, as did Dirk and Sten's.
"You've certainly been busy," Halvar chuckled.
Val nodded, smiling no longer. "Here's where it gets real. I've studied the territory and I'll soon be heading west, skirting around the edges of the nearby neutral blues before slipping into Blackenthorp territory. Besides the city-state, their territory is littered with farming communities, vineyards, and about everything else you could imagine. To the north of the city, the population is also pretty dense, with a number of mines and production facilities, which is why I'm going to penetrate from the south. It's the largest territory in the region, so I might be gone awhile. Even having the energy to run at a sprint for hours, it will take half the night to reach my destination.
"With any luck, I'll be able to scout out our enemy's weak points so we can strategize around them. Then, as soon as our mercenaries arrive and prepare themselves, we'll put our future plan into action and Blackenthorp Province will become just one more piece of the board in our pocket, assuming we survive the fight to come."
"Your pocket," Dirk commented.
Val didn't lower his gaze, nodding at the now golden-eyed man. "That's right. Mine."
"All so you can become Overlord of Jordia. That's your plan for saving Earth?"
Val held the man's gaze and let the sudden awkward silence build. "If we start pulling guerrilla shit in our own country, a benign corporate grab could become a full-scale war. Those bastards would then devastate Earth with their laser cannons and our own atomics, just to put us in our place. Leaving things the hell alone back home really might be our best play. But that doesn't mean we sit on our asses and twiddle our thumbs. I was taught to kill, Dirk, same as you. Neither of us are diplomats, but we both sure as hell know it's a lot easier to bargain from a place of strength. And I can't think of a stronger position now than taking over what's basically a neighboring planet with a massive jump gate leading right back to Earth."
Val flashed a cold smile. "I'm sure you can guess what our next move should be from there."
Julia nodded. "If we do nothing but play defense, we'll just be a ripe plum for the next red to come after, thinking my mother's an easy target with too much profitable tech to ignore, and not enough allies protecting our interests. If we take the offensive, start expanding our power base as the other players on the board strengthen their own, that's our best path to survival."
Dirk frowned. "I'm not saying it's the worse strategy, but was it really necessary for you to dare the throne, Val? Couldn't we have hired mercenaries and ships to fight for us while still being considered a blue territory? I still think daring the throne puts us at massive risk, especially if we're defeated."
Julia barked a laugh. "Safe? We've been in mortal danger since we dared adventure in this world, thinking it all a game! Even after fleeing that mad inquisitor's parting gift, seeking nothing more than asylum and a chance to live peacefully, all those sharks pretending to be honorable nobles were just probing Mother for weaknesses, looking for any excuse to strike and kill! Now the whole bloody world knows we're Dauda-aligned. Crazy as it might be, vulnerable as Val is without his Shadowmind, no one not a contender is going to mess with us, knowing that at least one assassin is making a bid for the throne."
Yin nodded. "Julia’s right. Just days ago, no one thought we were anything but easy marks. The entire world was basically red to us! Now our enemies know to fear us, and those foes who would dare to strike can be plainly seen on the board!"
Sten clapped Dirk's shoulder. "It makes sense. You know it does."
"And there is no way in hell a mercenary would get involved in interfering with a Dominion-sanctioned conquest, if Christine’s territory was still blue,” Halvar explained. “Only now, with Val officially a contender for Jordia’s throne? This is the bread and butter of numerous mercenary outfits. The field is now open for him to recruit whoever he can.”
Sten nodded. "And save for those of us willing to serve 20-year stints in the Dominion navy, this is where most of us make our mark as mercs."
Yin frowned. "What's the difference between mercs se
rving the Dominion directly, and those working in other capacities?"
"Excellent question," Halvar said, smiling as he warmed to the subject. "Dominion-sworn mercs either help expand the Dominion's overall reach by assisting in the conquest of neutral worlds, or they serve as garrisoned forces on various conquered planets. If you're contracted to the Dominion, you’re basically just a highly skilled trooper they didn't have to invest two years in training, with no need to pay a stipend for centuries after 20 to 50 years of service. But you're paid quite handsomely while you're in, which is covered by local taxes. Still, a lot of us find pillaging innocent worlds a bit distasteful, and the far safer and more honorable role of serving as planetary cops and peacekeepers only pays a fraction of what a front-line fighter earns. Besides, compared to any other assignment, playing peacekeeper is boring as hell."
"That's where serving under various companies come into play," Sten said. "Half of all merc contracts are either backing up the plays of various Highlords seeking to expand their influence in worlds that are still a bit wild and lawless with lots of territory up for grabs, or backing up the plays of various would-be Overlords making a bid for their world's throne when elections between Highlords fail, which is almost always. Then our peace-keeping merc brothers sworn to the Dominion change roles to protect all neutral targets.
“It's understood by all contenders that attacking any major production or population center, like capital cities equipped with spaceports, is forbidden. They are automatically considered blue targets that will follow whichever Highlord declaring the red achieves ascendancy. This allows for battles of ascension that spare the majority of a given planet's population and infrastructure from the ravages of war. In any case, it's battles between those contesting Highlords that make us most of our bread and butter. The pay's fantastic, but your risk of dying on the field of battle is considerably higher."
Oblivion's Peril Page 28
