We Unhappy Few Read online

  “Check your locus, the rendezvous is going to be west, so we need to make a right.” Shaya said.

  “Got it,” Damon said, skidding around the corner after her, smashing into the side of a building, still just managing to keep himself upright. The long powerful strides the armor provided were not something he was used to; it did surprise him how easy it was to use the various enchantments. “I think I’m getting the hang of moving in this thing. Which considering my apprenticeship is all on the job isn’t so bad—“

  A large cargo hauler smashed into him as he ran through the intersection. He went skittering head over heel, tearing furrows in the pristine Union road. The hauler stopped sliding slightly on its magical levitators, a large Damon-shaped dent on its front. The human man got out, but when he saw Damon rise to his feet he decided better of it and jumped back into the hauler and cut a U-turn that took out a trash can.

  “I’m fine…” Damon said, “I’m all right…”

  He took a few wobbly steps but the suits charms took over and he was soon running to catch up with Shaya. The intersection of Prosperity Square was a large promenade in the middle of a traffic circle. Several main arteries of commerce flowed through this section of the city, which was Richter’s Bastion according to Damon’s ever-helpful locus.

  The rest of the unit was taking cover behind the low walls and large memorial fountain. They were trading shots with the Union’s police force.

  “On your right!” Damon heard on his squad comms.

  Turning he saw another person in Lich Corps armor running toward him brandishing a Union missile launcher. Not taking the time to think Damon and Shaya dropped into a slide and the blue-purple magical explosive streaked over their heads smashing into the side of a police transport, knocking it over as the Union peacekeepers scrambled to not be crushed.

  “Good shot, Urani.” Shaya said, firing a burst of flechettes from a kneeling position. The lightly armored peacekeeping forces retreated to no doubt regroup and renew their efforts with more people.

  “Alright, corpsmen.” A gruff, grizzled voice said. Damon recognized it from his earlier plummet. He only had a passing knowledge of the corps because their initiation ritual was apparently to take you right from a cell and strap you into the armor. They were not big on an in-depth orientation process.

  “You, what the hell was all that!” Damon shouted. Shaya put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. Damon marched up to the speaker. The man stood as tall as any human in magical armor, but his was pitted and scarred. There were even swirling sections of patina where it had been burned. The most distinguishing feature, however, was the sheer amount of rune tags on his armor.

  “’What the hell was that,’ sir.” The man corrected.

  Damon stopped, caught off guard, “No, you threw me out of a damned void-ship!”

  The man turned away, addressing the squad at large. “Corpsmen, how many of you have been Hanged?”

  The whole squad raised their hands.

  “There you are, bard, now fall in, keep your eyes up, and your head down. If you can do that then maybe you’ll survive your military education.”

  Damon tensed his whole body, but Shaya pulled him back. “Just get in line and survive. That’s how things work in the corps. You only need to get to ten missions.”

  Damon grunted and fell in behind his squadmates as they began walking toward the mission objective. It looked like all the other utilitarian Union-approved buildings around it. Damon shrugged and shouldered his weapon.

  “Who is the…” Damon searched for what Shaya had called him earlier, “lieutenant?”

  Shaya cast her gaze in his direction. “He’s the ranking member. No one’s even sure how many missions he’s done, but it’s more than the standard ten we all get saddled with. Look at his armor, there’s probably a story for every single mission he’s ever done. Just listen to him, and he’ll work hard to get us through this.”

  Damon could hear the genuine admiration in her voice but decided to let the conversation drop. She were right, he just had to focus on surviving. All he had to do was survive ten missions. That was what his advocate had said. Taking a deep breath he let it out. The magically generated air was not the freshest he had ever tasted, leaving a stale taste in his mouth.

  “Alright, squad,” the Lieutenant said, “the objective is in one of the Union’s many state run research complexes. For the sake of our bard, I’ll go in depth.

  “Union research campuses are naturally under the auspices of the state and that means the military. This means we can expect stiff resistance, especially now that they know something is going on. We’re going to be heading into a small archive. However, the spymasters assure me that they’ve also got some kind of void-ship prototype design we can use as a cover. Our main objective is the archive. So, I’m going to be assigning some of you to the artifact retrieval, and the rest of you are coming with me to take the void-ship prototype blueprint if possible. Its ultimate use is for distracting the security forces from the artifact vault. We’re on a window here, team. If we miss extraction we’re left here at the tender mercies of the Union. Move out.”

  Damon dropped the magazine from his firearm and inspected the level of small flechettes inside and slapped it back home. Taking a deep breath he moved in time with the eleven other souls marching down the Union street, darkness swallowing them whole leaving only the lights and sirens behind.

  Chapter 3

  Damon looked around the corner of the food distribution building he was taking cover behind. The side of the Union research campus was just as gray and government-issue as the rest of the other buildings around it. Perhaps because of this sameness, the Union took great pains to clearly label their buildings.

  “I see it.” He said, looking at the entrance to the underground parking lot. It was quiet, but he could tell through the various sensors in his helmet that the Union had several hidden wards preventing just this kind of incursion. The one thing he didn’t see was any of the security forces that should have been patrolling this area, there wasn’t even a guard in the booth.

  “Good, okay, Boudira, Urani, move up.” Shaya said. Two more of their five-man team moved up while he and Shaya covered their approach.

  “So, how are you such a good shot for a guy who makes a living playing in bars?” Shaya asked.

  “I don’t always play in really friendly bars, you kind of learn how to use a pistol or you get mugged.” He said.

  “Sure…” Shaya said. Damon could feel her critical eye. Whatever she sensed she didn’t pry any further.

  “Aye,” Boudira said, calling them over. Damon looked down at her. She didn’t break five feet tall and she was decked out in magical armor just like all of them. But hers was of dwarven make, which meant that her armor was made up of blockier plates and was less streamlined than that worn by Damon or Shaya. Orange dots looked up at him from the faceplate

  She gestured to the glowing lines and runes with her forefinger. “These wards are a lot stronger than I would have thought.”

  “Can you break it?” Shaya asked.

  “’Course,” she said, “I just wanted to instill into you the genius of my intellect.” She pulled out a long metal stylus and then something that looked similar to a medical scalpel, but had a round blade like a half moon. She twisted a section at the base of the stylus and it began to glow.

  Damon watched as she gingerly cut the various lines and symbols of runic mathematics. He knew that this kind of magic was everywhere, and there were certain formulas that funneled it into various effects. Like the vast majority of modern people though, he didn’t care how his magilights came on, only that they did when he flipped a switch. He watched as she sketched new runes with a steady, well-practiced hand.

  “Just like I’d expect from Union humans: functional but no talent or artistry.” Boudira said. She stood up and stowed her tools, “Good to go.”

  Damon used the magical power of his suit to break t
he physical lock on the roll gate. Once the gate was dealt with, the team moved forward, down into the parking area. They approached the side door. It said Authorized Personnel in Hyperion Common.

  “Okay, now we just wait for the signal. Urani, take point.” Shaya said.

  “Got it.” Urani said, her voice had the telltale serpentine hiss of an orc. Damon remembered her as one of the many voices from his time in the void-ship. She walked to the fore with an easy confidence, and Damon saw more than one rune tag welded to her armor. It reminded him of watching a wolf on the trail of a deer, almost to an uncanny resemblance.

  From the other side of the compound Damon heard a large boom powerful enough that he could feel the vibrations though the thick soles of the armor’s boots.

  “Weapons free! Go, go, go!” Shaya said over the channel. Boudira placed two small blobs of putty on the hinges and soon there was a noticeable rise in the local temperature according to his faceplate’s display. The door fell in with a small push from Boudira and the squad hustled inside, Urani at the front.

  Damon moved his firearm around. It was a squat somewhat blocky weapon, not suitable for very long ranges; for the confines of the research complex, he was more than happy to have it. Clutching it with both hands his visor’s view automatically compensated for the sudden influx of magilight illumination by turning off its minor light-manipulation charm. The team spread out and secured the area.

  “Okay,” Urani said, “the archive is this way, try to keep it quiet.” Her voice was a husky whisper, despite no one outside the corpsmen being able to hear their internal squad communications. The squad of five turned the corner and there were two lightly-armored security personnel walking away from them. Urani nodded to Shaya and the women stalked the pair, twisting their wrists making six-inch blade extended from their suit’s gauntlets. Slipping behind the guards like wraiths, Shaya’s blade found home in a neck while Urani’s slipped easily under a rib.

  “Humans are noisy.” Urani noted and motioned for the team to move up. Damon carefully stepped over the two security officers and made sure that no one showed up from behind. The sound of projectile fire and explosions grew louder.

  “Double time,” Urani hissed.

  The sound of blaring alarms filled the halls.

  “Well, they beat us to the prototype laboratory.” Boudira said.

  Damon joined the others in a jog. It wasn’t long before they were at the large steel door that separated the artifacts from their would-be liberators.

  “Boudira, you’re up.” Urani said as she stepped back from the door.

  Damon looked over the dwarf to see what kind of magical workaround she would devise for this. He watched her pull out a large metal claw, laying it flush against the surface of the door while flinging the other end toward the ceiling where it stuck with a hum. Giving it a tug, and seemingly satisfied with her work she began affixing more of that purplish putty to the door frame. Pulling out a control wand she directed everyone to stand against the walls.

  “The Union doesn’t scrimp on security, aye?” She said, “I could crack this elegantly and masterfully, being a genius and all, however, since time is short…” She activated the wand and purple putty exploded in perfect line. The claw she attached to the door activated and it reeled the door up to the ceiling in a matter of seconds. “It’s just easier to blow out the unprotected door frame and not touch the door covered in all manner of horrendously powerful and deadly wards that would probably immolate us all if this door was touched by anything but a specially-design gripper. My own design of course.”

  Damon could almost see the smug look on her dwarven face, not that he’d ever seen a dwarf’s face. They were sensitive about such things, even in Gloriana. When sunlight caused a painful death, not even dwarves who worked indoors did so uncovered without a second thought.

  “Okay, Bard, Maz, go get our artifact and whatever else looks important.” Shaya said.

  Maz ran forward brandishing a small cylindrical case. Damon followed him inside while the others began working on the extraction route. There were numerous small bits and bobs. Some of it even looked old enough to be Magi in origin, at least from what he could tell. He’d seen more than a few in schoolbooks, and the various governments of the world horded them jealously. Despite knowing better, Damon couldn’t help but look around at the relicts.

  “Here it is.” Maz said, “Bardo, pack all this up and I’m going to gut their scrynet to see if they have any findings.” He pulled out a control wand and walked over to a data terminal. It was a crystal-rune lattice, the standard magical data storage device of the modern age. If anything would contain all the information about this particular collection, it was this. Damon opened the case. Inside was a foam lining that molded perfectly around his hand as he pressed it down; it slowly retook its shape when he removed the pressure.

  He carefully placed the indicated artifacts into the case. Rolling them in the palm of his hand, he could tell they were old, Magi old. Damon wondered what made these particular ones. Damon ran his fingers over the lines, finding the absence of modern runes to be unsettling. Maz placed the tome wand inside and closed the case. “Okay, Viper, ready to go on this end.”

  “Gotcha, Maz.” Urani said.

  The team reformed and began pushing toward the sounds of explosions and shattering crystal rounds.

  “Lieutenant,” Shaya said, “we are headed your way. What’s the situation look like, sir?”

  “We’re in the shite, Willow. Come in hot and heavy.”

  “Acknowledged, cavalry inbound.”

  Shaya urged them into a run and they were soon in the complex’s main lobby. Union troopers were pouring in from the street, firing through the shot-out windows. Several members of the Lieutenant’s team were down with a variety of minor injuries and the Unies were not letting up the advantage.

  Shaya’s squad hit them hard. Boudira pulled out a grenade and lobbed it out the window at the base of the troop carrier. The troop carrier was a heavy military model, but she had it set for acid. The corrosive liquid boiled away the metal of the troop carrier and the man mounting the roof weapon tried to get out but the bottom of his turret dissolved with him in it.

  Damon shuddered but kept pouring on covering fire. A body hit the ground near him, and he spied the distinct shape of the Union anti-vehicle weapon. Taking a second he secured it to his thigh before reloading and taking more potshots over his low cover.

  “We need to get to the roof, our extraction will be there in less than ten minutes!” The Lieutenant said.

  Union soldiers fell back for cover as the corpsmen’s position solidified. The two squads became whole as they pushed for the lifts. Two of the Lieutenant’s soldiers pushed their fingers in and pried open the doors. Flechettes pinged and sparked off the walls around the lifts as the Union made a last push to pin their enemies down.

  “Half each, go.” The Lieutenant said, waving them into the lifts.

  Damon was almost in when a shot struck him in the lower back. His wards deflected most of the damage, but the shot was powerful enough to send him sprawling to his knees. Maz reached down and pulled him in.

  “Thanks…” Damon said.

  “Don’t mention it.” Maz said.

  Fire poured into the lifts from the Union troops below but these were older and more robust. The cables held them up while the Lich Corps returned fire back down until the two sides were out of sight from one another. The roof symbol appeared and the two squads burst forth, weapons at the ready. They were met by two gunships. Union paladins jumping down from the open sides rushed to do battle with the intruders. The white armor and battle cries of the Union’s elite martial order joined the shouts and gunfire from the Republic’s worst.

  “Anyone got any anti-air launchers left?” Shaya called out over the scrycom.

  Damon reached to his left thigh and found the octagonal tube. He yanked the forgotten launcher from its place on his armor and looked at it. After a
moment of trying to decipher how to use it on the fly he had a better idea.

  “Here.” He grunted throwing it to her. The tube skittered toward her and she dashed out of cover to scoop it up. Shaya began turning the rings around its magical power cell. The fire from the two Union gunships grew steadily more accurate as the seconds passed.

  “Shoot it!” Damon shouted.

  “Hang on.” She stood up and fired. Orange energy blossomed from the tube’s mouth and twelve small lances of energy snaked toward the two drop ships. Impact after impact exploded across the gunships’ wards. One of them jerked as a large explosion ruptured the starboard plating and the ship spiraled down to the street. There was a loud growling explosion and a thick haze of off-color smoke

  The remaining ship opened up fire once more. A hail of crystal flechettes drove Willow back behind the scant rooftop cover of environmental engines and ductwork. There was a warbling woosh of magical engines as the Lich Corps’ extraction ship rapidly swung in, swaying a bit as it came to a hovering stop. Lines unfurled from the sides to the rooftop below. It looked similar to the Union ship, but it was larger and had a more modern, streamlined appearance. The troops on the flechette turrets opened fire on the remaining Union craft.

  Crystals danced off the Republic ship’s wards as the two ships traded shots trying to support the troops on their respective sides.

  “Extract! Extract!” The Lieutenant shouted. The majority of the corpsmen were close to the ship, making dead runs for the ropes. Most of the Lieutenant’s team was already safely aboard.

  Damon began moving back, pulled between the promise of safety and providing Maz and Shaya covering fire.

  “Come on, Maz.” Damon said.

  Damon watched Shaya make a beeline toward the waiting ship from her cover, drawing fire. Damon and Maz stepped back and unleased a hail of flechettes to give her some help. She reached the lines first and the crew in the ship activated the charm that would turn the winch. She was pouring on fire until her weapon ran dry, and then she pulled her pistol. Soon Damon realized that he and Maz were the only two left on the roof.