Yin grinned. “I’m glad we picked you up! So you’re a new class? How awesome! What’s it called? Me and my friends found some hidden classes too!”
Julia exchanged a quick frown with Dirk, but the boy didn’t seem fazed at all.
“Hey, that’s pretty cool! I was hoping people had discovered something besides Mage, Mech-Warrior, and Mercenary. I’m a Gunslinger. And as far as I know, I’m the only one. Hell, I have yet to see a gun that doesn’t shoot laser beams. And those carbines are accurate as all hell, but of course Dominion armor is designed to reflect it, there are spells to counter it, and here in the south, mana surges totally short out their shit.”
He drew one of his guns, a thick barreled six-shooter with a shiny chrome finish, seemingly unaware of how Dirk and Yin flinched. “But these babies? Man. That shiny plastic trooper armor shit can’t block it for anything. I target practiced on a couple of chestplates and blew them all to pieces.” Bill flashed a cheeky smile. “All the snarky comments about my lanky frame stopped after that. They even gave me first dibs during grub time, and started calling me Officer Bill, which I kinda hated since I did nothing to earn the rank, except intimidate a few troopers. Even when other players cast spells around me, back when I had a group I ran with a couple times before we got ambushed, my guns worked fine. Even when John’s blaster shorted out.” He paled and shook his head. “That was a messed up scene. And those guys never logged back on after they, well..."
“Died?” Yin softly asked.
Bill gave a quick nod. “Yeah. That. Best of all, the ammo’s unlimited! It just refills as the cylinder spins, and it tires me less quickly than running at a sprint!”
And before Dirk could even react, the boy spun around, gun pointing two inches from a startled Yin’s head, and the air roared with the sound of gunfire as a stream of bullets tore through the night.
Answered by a furious roar as a massive bear beside the road sneaking up on their motionless veli that none of them had spotted charged forward before keeling over with a whimper, and Bill kept firing and firing, his gentle face curled in a snarl as the stream of bullets tore into the mutated bear and slowly turned it into tenderized bloody meat until finally a panting Bill swallowed, coughing up a gob of blood as shaky hands resheathed his gun after fumbling with the holster a time or two.
“Sorry,” he said, meeting everyone’s solemn stares, everyone's ears ringing with the explosion of gunfire, the earthy smells of the nearby woodlands replaced with the stench of gunpowder and freshly spilled blood. “Okay, maybe it does tire me out just like doing sprints in gym class. And maybe sometimes I spit up a little blood. Nothing a single night’s sleep or a tiny sip of tincture won’t heal,” he said with a quick sip from a flask he now held, taking a shuddering breath and flashing a winning smile at the handful of faces staring right back at him.
“So yeah, Gunslinger class. Damn sweet. And thanks again for picking me up after my hover-blade died and threw me for a tumble and the light turned strange and everything got kinda wobbly.”
Yin’s soft lavender eyes widened. “You were shooting at that bear while under the influence of Haunting Luminescence! How did you manage to do that without all your shots going wide or hitting us?”
Bill grinned. “I know, right? I was feeling dizzy as hell before I got smart and started using my class skills. The minute I focus along my iron sights, my vision clears right up. But I felt like an idiot, walking down the road while looking down the barrel of my gun the whole time. And to be honest, my arm was getting damn tired.”
He took another sip from his flask, smiling at Julia through the mirror. “So, where are we going anyway?”
30
“Val, you’re back!”
Despite the fury and desperation roiling through him, a momentarily dizzy Val couldn’t help but smile at Bethany’s adoring gaze. Beautiful green eyes were twinkling like emeralds over a heavenly smile. Her brilliant mass of luxurious curls the color of living flame had been tied up in a surprisingly compact pilot’s bun, her sensual curves only emphasized by the skin-tight pilot suit caressing her frame.
Her eyes momentarily widened. Bethany looked captivated by the sight of his odd facial tattoos, the weight of all he had seen and done now heavy upon his gaze. She only hesitated for a heartbeat before walking up to him, squeezing him tight to her. Val dispelled his dwarven armaments with a thought, some lonely part of his soul aching for the touch and warmth of someone who understood, someone who cared, someone who wasn’t horrified by all he had seen and done.
No matter that it horrified him most of all.
Just the thought of a beautiful dwarven girl looking so like his Ava, pale and lifeless before being sliced open by cold, dispassionate Dominion scientists… horror aside, he would butcher those Dominion bastards all over again if he could, just as savagely as he had before, no matter the monster it made him.
Val squeezed his eyes shut, dispelling the memory as he held Bethany tightly to him, then opening them once more to take in the sight of the impressive battle-mech hangar being built just a short distance from the main fortress compound that served as manor and top floors of the massive research center extending many hundreds of feet into the bowels of the earth.
The trenches used during their desperate battle with Dominicus forces had long since been filled, and he caught glimpses of just a few of the battle-mechs that industrious engineers were working on even now, the hangar well-lit, for all that the surrounding area was dark as pitch with the cloud cover, brilliant Phoebe and a million twinkling stars invisible to all.
Bethany’s intent gaze locked upon his own, an errant wisp of bright red hair fluttering in the cool breeze smelling of citrus and blossoms.
Features so sweet, so innocent, so heartrendingly beautiful even in the dim light, flinching not at all as she plucked his most terrible secrets in a heartbeat, kissing his lips in approval before laying her head against his chest.
“You cut those bastards down to the last man. Good for you, Val.”
He smiled sadly when she wrapped his arms around her, breath catching in his throat to feel the flood of emotions now rushing through him. “You’re not horrified? You should be.” He chuckled bitterly. “I’ve killed a lot of people over the last few days.”
Bethany nodded. “I know. I can feel it on you. And running through it all is a fierce desire to protect those you love, at any cost.” She flashed an endearing smile. “I’m no innocent, hero of my heart, for all that I am committed to being the gentle angel I could sense you yearning for, even when you released me from the horrors of slavery, asking for nothing in return.” She swallowed. “I was humbled of all my arrogance and pride when I was broken, Valor. And made better for it when you redeemed me. Redeemed my entire family. And if you think for even a moment that I could possibly judge you for destroying your enemies, as any Highlord would, even as you yearn so fiercely to defend your allies, which few save the most honorable would bother with… then you don’t know me at all.”
With a female Highlord’s surprising strength, she wrapped her arms tightly about his neck, drawing him down for a kiss fierce and sweet, his heart skipping a beat before she pulled away with a smile, her hand reaching down to squeeze his own. He blinked, suddenly certain her strength was beyond what even a Highlady should be capable of. “I missed you, Valor. Come on. Let’s head over to those mechs you want to fix.”
Val’s eyes widened. To think she had read him so well, so quickly. Despite his far weaker gift, Val sensed in that moment just how many balls she was juggling on his behalf. He realized how lucky he was to have her by his side. “How...”
“It’s stronger with people you love.”
Val swallowed. Of course. “Status?”
She wasted no time, sensing immediately what he needed to know. “Twenty that our engineers deem salvageable, another thirty battle-mechs deemed so badly damaged as to only be suitable only for scrap.”
Val grimaced and nodded, recalling al
l too well the panic and fear Bethany, Angelica, and all his mech-pilots had felt when it turned out that Tiberius had enslaved the will of his pilots so thoroughly they were more than happy to unleash exothermics that would utterly obliterate them, as long as they could catch their foes in the blast. In utter violation of the accords, but it was all too obvious that the High Council and its lackeys were more than happy to do whatever it took to assure themselves the throne. In their corrupt eyes, codes of conduct and various accords were merely tools to hinder their enemies while they themselves went in for the kill.
Val flashed a dark smile. Two could play at that game. “Then take me to the scrap heap.”
Bethany nodded, stopping at last before the ravaged remains of countless battle-mechs. There were massive rents in their once-reinforced chassis, powerful limbs of exotic alloys had been torn free or completely shredded. Every single mech showed signs of utter and complete system failure. Where once a proud armada had once stood, they were now little more than heaps of scrap, circuitry, and the memory of the fierce, proud beasts of chrome, steel, and hot death that had once inspired such fear and awe in all those they had faced upon the battlefield.
Memories Val was determined to make real once more.
You have successfully cast Greater Dominion Catalyzation! You know this heap of scrap was once more than rubbish for the recycle bin, and thanks to the 120 mana you just spent, your battle-mech remembers as well!
He was no engineer, no technician. For all his incredible insights with magic and his knack for survival, he would never be his father’s equal in understanding the beautiful symmetry of physics, or higher mathematics. But when he dared to join his psyche to the remains of these once pristine beasts of steel and chrome, allowing them to become but an extension of himself, just like he had with a certain regeneration facility, or the entirety of Christine’s unspeakably sophisticated lab, he could repair the myriad malfunctions and regenerate the gross physical damage just as he could his own flesh and blood.
Even as he was chillingly certain that, upon critical failure, it would be his own life force spilling on the ground as he collapsed, risking death just as surely as any healer who dared to meld with a dying patient in a desperate bid to save the victim’s life.
Yet all he felt in that moment was a surge of golden satisfaction as the battle-mech that had been little more than scrap was now as pristine and polished as the day it had come out of the assembly line, never mind that nearly half of its components had already been salvaged.
Val smiled at Bethany’s awed expression, taking in as well the handful of technicians who had come racing out of the hangar, alarm and raised blasters quickly turning to awe and bent knees and bowed heads as first one, then another and yet another heap of twisted metal and ruined circuitry were transformed to brilliant shining examples of Dominion engineering at its finest.
Fifty in all, Val repaired, from those the engineers were planning on working on the next day, to the massive piles of scrap everyone had thought beyond even a Contender’s gifts. All restored to pristine working order before the first light of dawn, and though hardly a word was said by the speechless observers, somehow word had spread as it always does, Val sensing the measuring gazes of not only his own sworn pilots, but every potential pilot now on his territory, players as well.
Congratulations! Risking your very existence fusing your soul to once inanimate hunks of circuitry and metal has allowed you to master Greater Dominion Catalyzation! Cost: 20 mana per minute of repairs, and you won’t even risk your soul while doing it!
Val’s momentarily dazed expression immediately caught a certain boyish whistle, catching sight of a grinning Jake Thatcher; pimples, cheeky grin, and lanky frame radiating the same boyish exuberance and deadly competence that had marked him as a player from the moment Val had first met him at Blackenthorp Province.
“Man, that is something else. Nothing a Mech-warrior needs more than a healer backing him up, and your healing is epic!” He flashed a thumb's up, his boyish features and bubbly enthusiasm looking oddly out of place among the bemused smiles and hardened gazes of dozens of serious Jordian mercenaries. And at the same time, dressed in the same pilot suit as Bethany and the others were, Jake seemed to fit in perfectly.
“Jake Thatcher reporting for duty, sir. Damn, it’s good to have you back, Val. Now let’s show these guys how real gamers do it, and claim the board Genghis Khan style!”
Val couldn’t help, grinning back. “Blitzkrieg strikes, hit and run tactics, and burn any city that doesn’t surrender to the ground. It’s good to see you, Jake.”
“It’s good to see you, Val,” Jake declared, before waving his hand at a good dozen men beside him. “These guys are some of the captured pilots who were being totally puppet-mastered by that Tiberius character, until you rained holy hell on his home state and blasted it out of existence! It’s so awesome, Val. I checked on Readit, and we now have high mana zones to explore, thanks to you!
“Of course it’s dangerous as hell, with undead troopers and these weird horrors that are basically battle-mech zombies, but Val, oh my god, you should see some of the descriptions of the Elementium crystals and magically potent flowers some players found just growing in clusters by this stream of pure Silbion! I swear those guys cleaned up. They must have cashed out with 10 million credits worth of loot!”
Excited grin fading, Jake sighed. “Too bad most of the team got nabbed by that Keeper guy and became his mind slaves with tentacles and fingers and weird eyeballs and shit popping out all over their flesh. It sounded totally Lovecraftian, and definitely not my scene. But damn, the survivors did make out like bandits. I’m just sorry their buddies are all in comas in the real world.”
Axel smiled, patting Jake’s slender shoulder with one massive hand, and Val was pleased to see the powerfully built leader of his own battle-mech crew taking a shine to the Terran player. “What the kid means to say is we got another 20 pilots who are willing to fly under your banner, so long as you treat them right, and are willing to let bygones be bygones. And it’s good to see you among the living. Things got hot and heavy there for a while, boss.”
Val bowed his head even as he smiled. “It’s good to see you as well, Axel,” he said, nodding to the wolf-like Caden and the other pilots that had first given their word and taken his coin. “It’s good to see all of you that made it.” He raised his eyes, meeting Axel’s own, and it said something that the man didn’t flinch at the weight of Val’s gaze, the once-more silvery tattoos that had been horrific scars just days ago on clear display for all to see. “And I mourn those that didn’t.”
Caden snorted. “You smashed the bastards who tried to kill us to dust. Nothing would have pleased them more than that.” He raised a cynical eyebrow. “They did leave people behind, you know. Most of us have families.”
Val turned to Bethany, who smiled. “I’ll make sure Christine sees to it.” But you do need someone you trust to handle the purse strings and the expenses, Val.
Caden’s hard eyes glimmered with something close to approval. “Good.” He turned to the measuring faces of the pilots. “He’s got the sand for it, as any fool can see. Before? He looked like a boy. Now, he looks exactly like what he is.”
A few of the men gave measured nods. A couple flinched, a few smiled in approval. “A Contender,” one said.
“That’s right,” Axel declared. “Our boy's the hidden jack that’s going to take the crown. And with us by his side, he’ll take out anyone that gets in his way.”
Dimensional Rift accessed!
Val smiled as a score of faces lit up at the sight of the Elementium coins he had seemingly pulled from the ether. “My understanding is that most of you once served under Tiberius’s banner. Or, perhaps, Kentric’s banner.” A few men flinched and frowned at that. “And I could care less,” Val declared. “Because now you know what those men are capable of. Lacking all honor or respect for the accords. Happy to use you and throw you away as if your
lives were worth nothing. Happy to compel your minds to suicidal attacks you’re lucky to have even survived.” Val flashed a gentle smile for the new pilots as he flashed the Elementium coins. “Now you have the opportunity to choose a different path. A clean slate, for all of us.”
Almost all the pilots gave relieved smiles at those words, a few stepping forward already.
“I will never stint on your pay, I will never throw away your lives cheaply. Your families, should you have them, will always find safety under my banner, so long as their intentions are good and I fight for the throne. But let me say this,” Val cautioned. "Once you give your word to serve me, it is one you will never break.”
More than one pilot stilled and swallowed.
“Of course you may leave my service when I am no longer a contender, once I've seized the crown, or after a year's time, when payment for reenlistment is due. And so long as you swear never to betray me or mine, or otherwise deliberately reveal what you saw or did while fighting under my banner, you may live your lives as you see fit.
"Now take the oath, take my coin, and be counted among my number.”
Jake grinned. “I totally love this guy!” With a cheeky grin, he held out his hand for a coin and Val chuckled slightly, handing it to him even as the boy shuddered with the weight of a Greater Oathbinding.
Oblivion's Crown Page 37
