It took two hours for city-wide communication to be reinstated. Head Guard Dalton, along with his men, were just arriving at the center when their links came online. They had collected 1000 guards during their race through the city, and the men poured into the entryway.
Dalton used his link to check on the situation. It seemed that the Cosgrave heirs had already made their way to the local guard station. Even the mercenaries were already disarmed and waiting for processing. According to the reports he was receiving, they were alerted to the events at the keep by a Populator that was recording the events on site.
“Sir, you should see this,” said one of his men while pointing to one of the walls.
Walking over, Dalton saw a destroyed room with a window overlooking the entryway. It looked like an explosion had gone off inside. Some of his men were examining the damage, while others were pulling something out of holes in the walls. Walking closer to the window, he tried to see what they’d found. Grimacing, he realized that they were dead bodies. Crushed, bent, and generally broken dead bodies.
“What the hell happened here?” Dalton asked in a clipped tone.
“No idea Sir, Evidently an explosion was set off in the room which killed 4 of the enemy force,” he replied while they both surveyed the room through the window.
A guard poked his head through what was left of the door, and said, “We’ve got another one in the hallway. He’s kinda stuck in the wall though. It looks like another bomb went off out here.”
Dalton looked to his men and exchanged a look of confusion. “Give me a second to sort through the reports I’m getting,” he said.
Filtering out the acceptances of surrender, logs for teams addressing the communications issues, he found what he was looking for.
It appeared that all of this was caused by a 14 year old lab-tech who saved the Cosgrave heirs from an embarrassing result. The little lord Cosgrave noted in his report that ‘the belligerent commoner was just taking credit for a rogue mage’, but the Populator on site is the more believable witness.
“It was a 14 year old Center associate responsible for all this. Hold on, let me find out which medical center he’s at,” he said, while searching for Nero’s current whereabouts.
The guards were exchanging quiet words, praising the damage and pointing out a particularly brutal result. More and more guards were passing word about what happened, and how this was all done by a ‘center brat’. Smiles started to grow on their faces as they debated the details of what was obviously an epic fight.
Head Guard Dalton’s brow furrowed in confusion when he found Nero sleeping peacefully in his bed, and not in a medical center. Opening his eyes to the eagerly waiting guards, he said, “The kid’s asleep in his bed. Apparently he’s fine. He’s not in the medical center.”
One of the guards pushed forward a little, and she said with a wide smile, “What’s his room number? I’ll go get him.”
That started off a loud debate over who was going to collect the little hero. Dalton interrupted the chatter, “Calm down. No one is bothering him. Let the young man sleep. I’m sure we’ll hear the story soon enough. Do you all have any idea how many points he must have earned for this?”
That set off another round of smiles and laughter, and Dalton just grinned as he took part in examining Nero’s handiwork.
-----
Nero saw Sergeant Blackwood sitting on a bench outside the conference room. Giving him a slight wave, he said, “Alright big guy, let’s get some food.”
Blackwood stood up and looked over at the door. “Is Captain Angelton done with you?” he asked.
“Even if he’s not, any further conversation will take place while I eat. My link isn’t showing me directions to the cafeteria, or mess hall, or whatever you army-types call it. So let’s go. Chop, Chop,” Nero said as he clapped his hands.
Sergeant Blackwood smiled at Nero’s antics. “Sure thing. Just follow me,” he said.
As they walked to the cafeteria, Blackwood pointed out the buildings he thought were important. Nero was shown the training hall, which was a large stone building 3 stories tall and without windows. The requisitions depot, various armories, and Command centers which were all surrounding the dining hall. Blackwood made a point to remind Nero that he should use the correct names. While people would probably understand him if he made a mistake, they would label him a fool.
Reading the subtext of the conversation, Nero had a feeling that the prevailing belief around the compound was that he was an idiot. Although Nero didn’t know where they got that idea, he wasn’t too worried. With a shrug, he ignored Blackwood’s warning.
“Why are all these buildings made out of stone, and why don’t they have windows? Even the Command Center doesn't have windows below the upper floors,” Nero asked.
“Technically it’s not stone. It’s a type of essence infused cement. The formula isn’t a secret, but it’s very difficult to make. Most of Dorchester’s important infrastructure is made from the stuff. As for the windows, no idea. I’ve never really thought about it. Why do you focus on weird observations that don’t mean anything? Why aren’t you interested in the fact that we have 5 separate armories? Or that there are two Command Centers?” Blackwood asked, as they made their way into the dining hall.
Nero looked around and shrugged. “It didn’t seem important. Probably different types of weapons for each armory. The command centers are probably the result of a really clever bureaucrat. They probably made the decision in some committee and it became a dumbass tradition. It’s probably totally useless now, but is a nice thing to mention during tours.”
Standing in the chow line, Blackwood looked at Nero with annoyance. “That’s actually pretty accurate. Do you want to hear the story anyway?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Nero looked up at his guide with pity, the man sounded kind of pathetic. Feeling a little bad for the guy Nero said, “Sure. Hit me with it.”
Smiling, Blackwood started what Nero could only assume to be a very interesting story for most people. Only half listening, he collected his meal while he scoped out the soldiers. There were people of all ages, some were even teenagers like him. ‘It seems the recruits aren’t separated from the veterans,’ he thought with some interest.
As they sat down to eat, Blackwood finished his rendition of the ‘epic of the two compounds’. The story boiled down to the army having two command centers: one for local issues, one for campaign issues. That’s how the first king did it, and they still do it that way. Everyone thinks it should be changed, but the decision never gets out of committee. Just as Nero thought, it was a stupid story and Blackwood should feel bad for telling it.
Since Sergeant Blackwood was Captain Angelton’s right hand man, he was in the loop with a lot of information available for Nero to plunder. Taking the opportunity, Nero started to ask some questions that had been bugging him about last night. He found out the general rules for what was called a Noble War. Blackwood walked him through how they normally went, and what made last night’s different. Of particular interest, was how the accords protect civilians during changes in power. After hearing how everything worked, Nero was surprised, as he thought the system sounded great.
The people in charge wanted to stay in charge in order for their houses to get tax breaks. Noble Wars were just jockeying for position. The higher a house rose in the city rankings, the better their benefits. That’s it. Yet, they can’t abuse the system to help themselves, or promote their family into positions of power without oversight. Everything was very public. The tax breaks were based on how high in the political arena a Noble house rose. The corruption that Nero was used to back home was written into law here. According to Blackwood, it was obvious that increased responsibility should result in tangible benefits.
Nero was amazed that everything was so organized. For example, in order to not affect the standard functioning of a city, and to not negatively impact the populous, noble houses had to declare when they were vying for a takeover of position. Noble Wars had specific rules that severely limited the amount of damage they could do to the civilian population. Those rules were commonly referred to as ‘the accords’. But, if a civilian wanted, he could throw off the accords, and join the fight as an independent. Otherwise, everyone involved in a Noble war was either part of house, or worked for a house. The army here was actually a division paid for by Dorchester, which was currently ruled by the Cosgraves.
To Nero, that alleviated some of his distaste for his fellow Center associates. They actually believed that they were safe during the Noble War, as long as they didn’t get involved. Wanting some clarification about that, Nero asked Blackwood how the merchant caravan massacre fit in to the accords.
Sergeant Blackwood had nodded and said, “That’s a good question. The raid was just one of Dorchen’s many evils. He relied on the fact that he hadn’t formally declared a Noble War, technically that was a private action. Since the war hadn’t started yet, it didn’t violate the accords. He paid the families of the men he sacrificed and in effect created suicide troops. Then he used his status as a logician at the Thought hub to wipe the records, making the men disappear. He did everything he could to make it seem like it was Islangurs who raided the caravan. It wouldn’t have held up in the long run, but he could have easily swept it under the rug after he succeeded in his gambit for the position of Dorchester’s City-Lord.”
As Nero heard that, he thought, ‘Only a rich asshole would think that by technically NOT breaking one law, he absolves himself of any wrongdoing while performing banditry. That’s rich-guy logic right there.’
Finished with their meal, Blackwood walked Nero over to the main command hub. Getting approved for his link to work while in the compound was as easy as it was weird. Nero had to stand in a painted circle on the ground, while a clerk did something behind a desk. That was the whole thing.
Nero stepped into the circle and two seconds later he heard the clerk say, “Got it. You’re good to go.” The clerk then turned back to whatever it was that they was doing before Nero showed up.
“That’s it? We had to walk over here for that?” Nero asked Blackwood as they left the room.
“What did you expect?” Blackwood asked with curiosity.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter I guess. Next up is the armory for my gear, right?” Nero asked.
“Yup, you’re in the system now. I’ll send you the confirmed schedule. You’re going to love your magic combat instructor,” Blackwood said with a smile that raised Nero’s hackles.
“You’re not going to tell me any details, are you?” Nero asked.
“Nope. And hurry up, I have other things to do today,” Blackwood said as he led Nero to the recruit armory.
About an hour later Nero finally stepped out of the armory, now completely drained. “Your system is stupid,” Nero said to an amused Blackwood.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“It takes two seconds to isolate my psychic signature and allow me to link to the army compound, right? Then I get here and I have to go through a bunch of paperwork and crap in order to get a bunch of gear that I can’t even take with me. If the gear has to remain in the compound at all times, either with me while I’m here, or inside a locker…. in the compound…. why the hell do I have to sign it out? It doesn’t make sense to make me responsible for gear that I will hardly ever see,” Nero said through gritted teeth while staring at Blackwood like the past hour was all his fault.
The sergeant scratched his head. “When you put it like that, it’s hard to argue the merits of the system. Just keep in mind, you’re still responsible for the gear, and in 10 years or so it will be important to have the paperwork registered. It matters a lot more when you have a personal space. For now, just pick up your gear before classes and then drop it off at the end of day. Make sure to do your maintenance on it before you put it away for the night. A lot of recruits forget about that, and it’ll come back and bite you.”
Nero nodded, and tried to shake off his annoyance with the pencil pushers. “Sure. Well, now what? That’s it right?” he asked.
Blackwood shook his head, “Didn’t you look at your pings? Captain Angelton is waiting for you in his office.”
“I currently have a backlog of pings going back to yesterday before the war. I can't look at any new ones until I get the old ones taken care of,” Nero said, while using the link to find the captain’s office. Before Blackwood could respond to his wisdom, Nero started off at a brisk walk.
Hurriedly catching up, Sergeant Blackwood said, “It doesn’t work like that, you can still receive new pings. Messages, voice records, and new pings are all still available. The hub just saves the old ones for you to look at later.”
Apparently Blackwood thought Nero was serious, so he decided to run with it. “Let’s just agree to disagree. I’ll start going through the old ones now, so I’ll need some quiet,” Nero said while they walked.
Blackwood tried to keep silent, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. While they were walking, he watched Nero, and he was 90% sure that Nero was NOT checking his pings. The kids psychic field didn’t LOOK like he was checking his pings, and he wasn’t struggling to pay attention to where he was going. Someone under level 30 wouldn’t have the control to walk like that while checking their pings.
“I know you’re not checking your pings,” Blackwood accused as they got back to the command hall.
“Of course I am. And you just broke my concentration. Shame on you Sir. Shame on you,” Nero said with a smile, and kept walking.
Blackwood realized that he wasn’t going to win this encounter. Without any other method to demonstrate his anger, he could only glare at the self-satisfied Nero. They walked in silence while Blackwood’s anger cooled.
Eventually, they reached the hallway leading up to the captain’s office. Nero pinged the door the moment he saw it. He figured that he would receive the OK to come in before he had to break stride. Apparently he timed it pretty well, because he received the feeling of welcome at the same time he got to the door, and as a bonus, Nero got to see Blackwood’s face covered in disapproval again.
After entering into the austere military office, Nero saw Captain Angelton sitting behind his desk with some holograms open. It seemed paperwork was both digital and physical in the army. ‘Probably have to do both in triplicate,’ Nero thought. Seeing the captain’s face staring at him while contorted in fury, Nero empathized with his plight.
“He must hate paperwork as much as I do,” thought Nero.