Chapter 332
“Are you nervous, Kyle?” D’Oillelat asked, looking out the shuttle’s window as they approached the familiar wall marking Resistance territory.
He considered for a moment, then shook his head slowly. “Not nervous,” he finally said. “I’m confident in handling the Scourge. I just didn’t expect my return to the Collective to be quite so eventful.”
From his meeting with Jarberry and Suierrillax, he’d been sent directly to the Verdant Republic embassy. Once there, they formally offered the job Suierrillax and D’Oillelat collaborated to create, and he was unceremoniously shipped off-world to the staging area in orbit, where the Resistance Queen waited.
Checking the nav bracelet on his right arm, he had a couple of automated messages indicating Suierrillax negotiating for living arrangements on his behalf. That had turned into a bit of a mess, with an endless stream of regulations and red tape to navigate, given his impending Tribunal. Ultimately, he was going to leave the administration to Suierrillax. She was as gifted as anybody he knew when it came to navigating the politics of the Collective.
“Think of it like a housewarming gift. It’s customary in many cultures to get somebody a plant when they find a new home. I just got you one that’s in C Grade,” D’Oillelat joked, though he could see the tension in her body as she saw the delegation waiting for her.
The Resistance had been waiting for this day for a long time; their hopes for an end to the war with the Er’Mithren council pinned almost entirely on D’Oillelat’s shoulders. Kyle could only imagine the pressure that put her under. When she got off the shuttle, she would be D’Oillelat, the warrior queen, the high goblin who would lead Er’Mithren to a new era of prosperity and alliance with the Verdant Republic. But in this moment, waiting to disembark, Kyle saw a resolute but overwhelmed young woman.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Well, thank you for the gift. And once you’re running this whole planet, do remember the little people, your majesty.”
“And here I was just about to offer you a place to stay on my world, and you go and ruin it with your snark,” she said with a fake glare. Still, some of the tension left her shoulders.
Stepping off the shuttle, Kyle felt a faint tugging at the back of his mind, and he scanned the crowd. He spotted Drokh and Ver’ah among the delegation, who each gave him a look of surprise, though they both fell to a knee when D’Oillelat exited the shuttle behind him, all the others in the crowd following suit. A resounding call of “Your Majesty” interrupted any other conversations as all eyes turned to D’Oillelat.
“Ancestors above, get up,” D’Oillelat said, voice booming over the crowd. As they started to follow her orders, she continued. “Our campaign against the tyrants in the capitol ends soon. We all knew that they would do whatever it took to maintain power, and the sacrifices they’ve made to the Scourge is further evidence of their depravity. They do not have the right to rule, and we will take it from them. By force.”
That was met with a loud cheer from the assembly, and she walked up to Kyle, raising his right arm. “Many of you remember Kyle Mayhew, the Courier who was so instrumental in protecting our lands from the shrikes, and helped begin our relationship with the Verdant Republic, who we now seek to join. Once again, our people are relying on him, this time to deal with the threat the Scourge presents to us and our way of life. With its demise, we will make a push into the city, and put an end to this tyranny, once and for all.”
That was met with a resounding cheer, but not all of the members of the Resistance looked terribly confident. Kyle felt the eyes looking where his missing left arm was. He was wearing thick canvas trousers and a loose green shirt, with the left sleeve tied close to the shoulder. The edge of his wound was visible at the base of his neck and on his chest above the buttons of his shirt. Given some of the visible scars, he understood the implied question behind some of those looks. Is he really strong enough to do it?
Kyle understood the skepticism, particularly after Ger’Sinh’s comments about his own aura. He didn’t readily notice it, but as he meditated, he could feel his energy cycling through the World Tree Seed, passing into the Between as it flowed through the wood. He wanted to take more time to meditate on it, but he suspected that made his mana signature seem unstable to observers.
If he got the laundry list of work done that Jarberry and Suierrillax set out for him, however, there would be no questions as to his capabilities. His talents may not lend themselves to specialized Courier work the way that his imp mentor had encouraged, but what he lacked in focus he made up for in versatility. And, as he and C.H.A.D.D. had dedicated time to keep refining their projects, their skillset would only get more diverse.
Don’t let your mind wander, Kyle admonished himself, turning to see D’Oillelat already giving directions to a handful of her generals. Drokh and Ver’ah were dismissed, and began to walk toward him. Raising his hand in a gesture of greeting, he offered them both a smile. “It’s been a long time. It’s good to see you both well.”
Ver’ah shook his head. “I wish I could say the same. Looks like you’ve been through the ringer since we saw you last. What the hell happened, Kyle?”
Drokh gave him a more appraising look, though his eyes fixed on Kyle’s missing left arm. “Congratulations are in order for your evolution. Though I admit, I’m curious. What could have left injuries like that on somebody as durable as you?”
[DR. MAYHEW WAS FORCED INTO COMBAT WITH AN ENEMY BEYOND HIS ABILITIES AT THE TIME,] C.H.A.D.D. offered, a note of consternation coming through their bond.
“That’s the short of it,” Kyle agreed, trying to push a feeling of understanding through to the drone. “Barely survived, but pulled through better than ever. Speaking of changes, though, where’s Hanastrel? Is she out on assignment?”
Drokh and Ver’ah shared a look, and the ogre shook his head. “Hanastrel is no longer with us, Kyle.”
He hadn’t known the goblin well, but the news was still a blow to him. “What happened?” he managed.
Ver’ah spoke, his mood clearly soured. “She was on a scouting mission in the forest of Er’Mithren. We didn’t know that Pall’Eth managed to get the Scourge to stay so active near the border of the city, and she got caught. Hanastrel managed to escape, barely, but…” The troll trailed off, his voice catching.
“But while she was back recovering at headquarters,” Drokh continued, “she saw a member of Pall’Eth’s intelligence team sneaking into the researchers’ facilities. She called for help, then went to intercept him. He was carrying an explosive, and thanks to her quick action, it detonated early. She saved so many lives, but it cost hers in the end.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kyle said, letting the words sink in. If he’d been able to take the Scourge out when he was here first, or had taken out Pall’Eth…
“Don’t be,” Drokh replied, his voice gruffer than normal. “She died a hero. She died to give us an opportunity to see Her Majesty’s vision for the people accomplished. Hanastrel wouldn’t want your pity. She would want you to finish what she gave her life for.”
The practiced nature of the words made Kyle believe that this wasn’t the first time the ogre had given the speech, and he fought against his grief, instead choosing to focus on an emotion he was far more comfortable with. Anger. Anger at the power-mad goblin running the Er’Mithren government. Anger at the Scourge for its role in his friend’s death. And anger at himself for being too weak to handle it all the first time he was here. Not this time, Kyle resolved.
“Kyle,” Ver’ah said, a hard look in his eyes. “With all due respect, are you really up for this? I know you’re strong. Believe me, I know you could take us both out. But this thing is on a different level. It’s been in C Grade for a long time.”
Kyle thought back to his conversation with Administrator Delta, specifically her words about progression ceilings. Back when the Scourge first ambushed him, despite its overwhelming power, he was able to survive and escape. Compared to the mutated hodag or Reynolds, it felt weaker. That was consistent with what Kyle knew of the creature, as it almost entirely subsisted on consuming the weaker E Grades and unawakened creatures within the forests, only occasionally finding meals in D Grade. It was stagnant. Complacent.
“I can handle it,” Kyle replied, not an ounce of doubt in his mind.
“At least consider seeing if we can get another team to support you,” Ver’ah protested. “Our entire operation is hinging on your success. We can’t afford for you to lose.”
By now, Kyle was frustrated. With a slow exhale, he activated Genesis Engine, a gentle golden glow shining from deep within. As the mana coursed to life, his presence washed over the area, cutting off all conversations as every eye was drawn to him.
Ver’ah took a step back, and Drokh looked on with an expression of awe. Deactivating his skill, he replied with the same words as before. “I can handle it.”
This time, there was no argument. The troll gave a shallow bow, then spoke with a shaky voice. “I’m sorry for doubting you. That… was something else.”
“No need to get all formal. Just trust that I’m not all talk,” Kyle said. He turned to see D’Oillelat walking toward them, the camp near the walls turning into a bustle of activity once again.
“Did you have to go and scare my army half to death?” the Resistance Queen asked in a mocking tone.
“Serves them right for not trusting your judgmemt,” Kyle replied without thinking, feeling a little bad as he saw Ver’ah wince out of the corner of his eye.
Fortunately for the poor troll, D’Oillelat didn’t seem to notice. “We’ll be ready to move out in an hour. We won’t enter the forest until you’ve engaged the Scourge, but the moment you have, we’re charging with everything we have. The last thing he’ll expect is a direct attack, while it’s active, so even if you can’t kill it, keep it busy so we can break through. If needed, I’ll handle the rest myself.”
Kyle nodded, having reviewed the plan before. Holding up his right arm, he met her eyes. “Let’s do a quick communications check to make sure everything is functioning as expected. It would be awfully inconvenient if tech issues got in the way of the plan.”
“You can say that again,” D’Oillelat agreed. With that, she pulled up her own nav bracelet, a gift from the Verdant Republic, and sent him a message. It came through a moment later with a soft ping, echoed by another soft ping from the C.H.A.D.D. pack.
D’Oillelat nodded, satisfied. “The redundancy worked, too. Excellent.”
After the disaster on Kertan Six, Kyle realized the importance of having an extra means of communication, and Suierrillax had already been pulling strings to get him an extra that was fitted to the C.H.A.D.D. pack. It wasn’t a completely perfect solution, but he was much better off than he’d been.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” Kyle said, looking toward the wall in the direction of the forest beyond. “I’m going to go check on some other friends, then get into position. I’ll move at your direction.”
Nodding his farewells to Drokh and Ver’ah, he leapt over the wall, where a familiar reptilian face approached from beyond a nearby hill. Back. Stronger. The Pack helps.
Kyle smiled broadly at the brightly-colored shrike alpha. The more the merrier.