You can't predict anything. How can you be certain about anything when everything is chaos and we're not in control? ~ John Lloyd

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Playing the Game

Celestial Forge x Battletech SI

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North boundaries of “The Emeri Empire”

Novo Franklin, Periphery Space

August 12th, 2980 AD

I carefully ripped the dandelion out of the ground, root and all, and placed the plant into my basket. It was already half full of the plant that had become my source of food and barter. The distant thumps of foot steps drew my eye to the half-wrecked form of an Awesome battlemech. It stomped slowly as the heir of the Emeri Royal Family learned the ropes of handling the massive machine. I stared, half in awe of the giant mechanical avatar of war, and half in depression as I am once more reminded of my current circumstances.

It was nine weeks ago I had awakened on the ground of a grassy meadow, and discovered not too long after some extreme confusion and fear, what universe I had awakened into. More panic came, existential horror followed, and ideas of how to survive the setting came. It turned out to all be unimportant however, as I learned through a good amount of eavesdropping that I was on Novo Franklin. A world that was untouched by the setting, and would remain so all the way into the IlClan era. I could literally live here for the rest of my life, and the setting would not screw with me because of the place being so unimportant.

As a result of this, the immediate threats against my life came to the fore, in the form of starvation and homelessness. Add on top of that the fact I was an outsider to the fiefdoms, and to this “kingdom”, I had little means to actually survive save what I had in my head already.

Which is when the “cheat power” appeared.

The Celestial Forge appeared to me, and explained the rules. I had known of the stories that used this system, and often had wanted to make such a story myself, but with few to no instructions on how to actually use it available, I had never gotten around to it. Now here I was, in Battletech, with the system. My existential horror only grew from there. It was mitigated that I was now physically a younger man again. While my actual body wasn’t weak with age yet, it was growing older and things were occurring that made me more proactive in remaining healthy. Now, most of the issues I was keeping under control were no longer an issue.

That was the first day. Since then, I had managed to not get strung up as an intruder by the realm, as people shifting to and fro various kingdoms happens frequently. People just assumed I was such a person, and given how young I was now, there was little suspicion that an older man would have been given. The “Empire” merely took note of me once I stuck around and little else. The only thing I was told was that if the “Empire” went to war, I would be “required” to levy myself to the defense of the “Empire”. Given the actual military forces of the place were basically farmers with pitchforks and bolt action rifles, coupled with a few “modern” weapons that would have seen action in Europe on the Western Front, and a pair of Battlemechs that were put together with bailing wire and ducktape, it would either be bloody, or hilarious.

Given most of the fighting was done with the military marching, standing still as the leaders then do ritualistic mech jousting with rules essentially being “Pink slips for X”, it’s semi-clan like in how people handle it. Having been here for over two months and seen it occur, five times, and having to take part in it twice, I realized I had little to actually worry about when it came to warfare. The most I had to deal with was the second time when the opposite military of five hundred men was added to the ritual and we had a big melee.

I was fortunate to have had experience with fighting before this, otherwise I would have gotten seriously injured if not killed. There were some killed, and a lot of injuries after it was all over, and the “Empire” beat the opposition hands down, gaining levies for labor and five months of non-aggression. In that time, I had waited and hoped for the forge to give me something, but there was nothing but a whole lot of nothing. It was there, but it just sat like a frog in a bowl.

Now I had some work, mostly being a farmer for the “Emperor” who paid me in food-stuff per day. It wasn’t enough for anyone, and people had to make do or not eat. Hence my picking of plants now, as both a supplement for my diet, and to sell infusions for more food.

“Could be far worse.” I griped as I pulled another plant out by the root. I missed home, my family, internet, indoor plumbing, electricity, television, and more. It wasn’t like I could just hop a ship to Terra though. I don’t even know if there was an HPG on this planet, despite my memories saying there was a B-Class station here.

I finished filling the basket and began making my way back to the little hut I called “home” for the time being. It was barely anything, but it managed to keep the elements, and most of the bugs, out. Reaching the hut, I had to duck down due to it being short sat to begin processing the plants.

“Still surprised that Dandelions are on this world. At least I know I can eat them after cleaning them.”

Separating the leaves first, I began to boil them to create an infusion and make my dinner.

Then without warning…It hit me.

The frog leapt out of the bowl, and onto my face as I felt something like a star fall from the heavens. I felt the pressure and jolted, worried that I was suffering some malady when suddenly it faded, as if it passed me. The feeling of residual heat remained however, and I just knew that I was storing power for a later hit.

I scowled lightly. “After two months, you finally do something?”

I received no answer, and let out an angry sigh as I got back to what I had been doing. Time passed and the infusion, and my meal, was finished. I ate the bland greens with the potatoes and carrots I had been given for that day’s work. Sealing the infusion within a clay jar I traded a meal for, I stored it for future bartering, and left the hut.

With little else to do, without books, games, or internet, I once more did what most men of this planet did. I went to town to hang around. Calling it a town was being generous in my opinion however given my experiences, but that wasn’t entirely fair to the locals given how low the tech level of the world was. The town comprised of a dozen buildings. Shops for the farm goods people the emperor sold to those who could afford it, new clothes as well, and small administration building that also counted as the constabulary, and jail, and of course, the bar.

Reaching the bar, I saw two guys who I had become friends with since my arrival. Roake, bean-pole of a man with blond hair and freckles, and Bron, a stout redhead built like a brick house. The two were step brothers, from two families who lost parents in a little war and found comfort together. They greeted me with a raising of a clay mugs filled with local ale.

“How goes it.” I asked, as I caught the eye of the barkeep and waved for my own drink.

“Bron stuck out.” Roake stated matter of factly as he sipped his drink. Bron glared at his before dropping head first onto the table. I looked a little concerned, my eyes shifting to a calm Roake and back, but said nothing for a moment.

“That bad?”

“She wants to marry Grendal. Fuckin’ Grendal!” he shouted, spilling his drink to the ground as he waved his hands upwards. “Just cause he is head of his own house already!” he cried before dropping back to the table and sobbed a little. Roake patted his back, looking like he had done this many times before as he took another sip.

“Well…are there any other girls to-“

“No!” he growled. “Of course there aren’t. Most of the women are already taken at this point. I would have to go and barter for the right if she doesn’t change her mind.” He finished in despair.

I frowned and sighed. That the problem with worlds like Novo Franklin. The population, supposedly, was barely over a hundred thousand. While that was a city in terms of size, that left not a lot of options for men with little to show. It led to fights, and blood feuds, and worse. It’s one of the reasons why the various kingdoms kept disappearing and coming into existence in a span of decades.

The “empire” was, so far, one of the lucky ones that lasted for more than a half century. It helped that they had nearly a lance of mechs, though only two, the Awesome and an Enforcer, really functioned at all.

“Well, don’t go picking fights just yet. There might be a chance somewhere.” I said, trying to be kind.

Bron just sat there, sobbing lightly, and Roake and I sighed.

Once the night had come, curfew kicked in and people started to go home. I bade the two goodnight and hoped Bron didn’t go crazy in his drunken state or anything. Upon returning to my hut, I checked the infusion, and felt it cool against my finger. Satisfied, I took a small cup and drank a few cups of it.

While a liquid diet was not a good thing, it would do well for my liver and blood pressure, helping me sleep through the night. I didn’t sleep well, not since I got here. My mind raced when I lay in bed, always had, but these nights were far worse for obvious reasons. I instead focused on sleeping, and thinking of nothing, entering a sort of meditative state. It usually worked, and soon I fell into a sleep.

Anxiety however gave me dreams, and these days I was full of anxiety. I dreamt of being left to die alone in a barren wasteland, before shifting over to being hunted down by a mob led by inquisitors, which then led to being harshly lambasted by gorgeous women for my shortcomings as they committed acts of debauchery I wasn’t allowed to take part in. I woke up more than a few times in despair, and anger, but in the end, it was all impotent, for I had nothing to target aside from myself, and whatever force put me here. The forge was an easy target for this, and I did so when it suited me, for I had nothing to unleash my frustrations and sorrow upon.

Morning came sooner than I wished, and I had to get to work in the fields. From dawn, with a break for breakfast as part of our pay, to late afternoon, I worked the vast fields of potatoes, carrots, and cabbages the emperor had made with his wealth and successes. I had to admit that there was something admirable to a man being successful on a world like this despite everything this universe represented. It wasn’t all nukes, intrigue, and mechs, as I had come to learn.

The end of the work day came, and I once more began to prepare to gather herbs. Cleaning out my basket and making sure it wasn’t damaged, and taking another pair of drinks from the infusion before setting out.

Then I stopped, as once more, I felt it.

I felt the pressure, and shock at the sensation. Twice now! Twice in as many days! Was the damned forge finally kicking it.

I felt something reach out to the falling star…and with a clang that caused me to wince from the pain, I felt it land within me.

Golden Sickle (Asterix the Gaul) (200CP)

This is a sickle made of solid gold, perfect for harvesting materials with magical properties. So perfect, that it has properties of its own. Firstly, any materials harvested using this sickle will never go bad. Food doesn't rot, meat, if you somehow used it on that, doesn't go rancid, magical herbs don't lose their powers. Secondly, it tends to have the exact magical properties you need to harvest any and all magical substances, without too much of a fuss. In essence, you can replace any and all growing and harvesting requirements for an ingredient, like 'needs to see the moon twenty times', or 'dance naked under at twilight carrying a pitcher of water that you then sprinkle' with 'cut using this sickle'. Doesn't apply on the super rare, absolutely one-of-a-kind stuff, mind you. It must be at least somewhat common.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

I stopped, and watched in blankness as a Golden Sickle came into existence before my eyes, and floated before me. I slowly took a hold of it, and fell into my hand. In that instant, I knew what it was, what it could do, and where it came from.

My eyes widened. “Okay…last thing I expected was Getafix’s tool.”

I rotated the object, getting a good look at it as the possibilities and uses came to my mind. Mostly on how it can solve my food issues. One of the biggest reasons I don’t over harvest is due to the lack of a refrigerator, and that the plants I harvest go bad when left alone long enough. If I used this sickle to do the harvesting however, it all remains fresh forever because “freakin magic”.

I frowned however when I saw the immediate problem.

“Solid gold. Might as well wear a clown outfit that was painted like a shooting target.”

I would need to keep it hidden, or preferably, dip it completely in paint to hide its true nature. I contemplated how I would get paint as I tested its sharpness, and raised my brow as I felt that unique feeling that came with a particularly sharp edge of metal.

“Take a man apart with that.” I murmured as I placed it under my clothes, and carefully went about my task. Finding the large patch of dandelions again, I began to dig them up, root and all, and place them into the basket until it was full. Returning to the hut, I pulled it out and began the processing of the plants as I normally did.

My eyes widened as the sickle cut through the plants like they were made of rice paper, so easily that it cut the time down by half. I also felt the magic of the blade at work, though there was no visual indication of anything happening. I couldn’t help but grin as a small amount of relief filled me, as food may no longer be a problem in the foreseeable future. Melancholy thoughts sprung forth from that, as I compared my current life with what I once had, and I forced myself to focus on the task. There was no need to bring myself down since I know the Cosmic forge is working, though why it took months to reach this point was a mystery.

“Maybe a collection of small events? I have no idea otherwise what caused it to start suddenly.”

With little else to go on, I made my dinner, but had an idea to test when I looked at the potatoes and carrots. I took a potato and cut it in half. Then I placed it upon a small chair I used as a table.

“See if it goes bad over the night.”

Soon enough I finished, and hit the sack. More bad dreams hit me, and I woke up several times during the night. Each time, I looked upon the potato, as if it would change before my eyes, only to see it was still moist and smelling of raw potato rather than drying up. It gave me ease of mind after the second time I awakened, and I slept dreamlessly for the rest of the night.

The next morning, I woke up, and hid the sickle in the dirt, under the chair turned table, which had processed roots upon it. Not much, but at least I would know if something was amiss. Pulling out a smaller clay jar, I opened it up to scoop out a few spoons worth of dandelion grind. The smell of brownies filled the air and I indulged the scent for a minute as I waited for the water to boil. If you took the root, chopped it up, then baked it at two fifty for two hours, stirring often for even cooking until it was dark brown or black, and then grinded it into a powder? It made dandelion coffee. Surprisingly, it tasted like actual coffee, and had the same effects, but the powder smelled like fresh baked brownies.

It was a shame I lacked my own kitchen, and stove, and…everything, otherwise I would make dandelion honey and jelly too. Well, maybe not jelly since that requires pectin, and I don’t even think this world could make such a thing.

After drinking the coffee, I left to work on the fields. Roake and Bron were there already, along with their parents, and younger siblings. As a lone man, I only got enough for myself to eat for the day, but with an entire family like that, one could eat well, especially if they stored food over time as theirs did.

I waved at them, and they greeted me back before returning to work. I looked over at the oldest daughter of the family. She was a young woman, average in looks, but healthy and fit from working the fields. Despite the medieval styled dress she wore, she had curves and she knew how to use them. There were already more than a few guys chasing after her, so she was somewhat spoiled for choice. A new guy like me had no real chance, with a lack of a real home and no “wealth” to speak of. Still, she was nice enough to me since I was nice to her younger siblings and family.

She was currently speaking to Dobbs, a tall, moderately good-looking farm hand who was muscled. He was successfully charming her, by helping her carry her “heavy basket” of carrots. I rolled my eyes, but said nothing.

“There he goes again.” Bron grumbled as he watched Dobbs walk off with his sister.

“Uh huh.” Roake acknowledged while placing more carrots into a basket.

“You don’t approve?” I asked.

Bron thought about it and shrugged. “It’s not him really.” He answered honestly. The look of frustration was enough to remind me of the real culprit.

“Grendal.” He growled.

I shook my head. He needed to let it go before it got to him, but it looks like it already has.

“You’re not gonna murder the man are you?” I asked bluntly.

It was at that moment I felt my body freeze, and a well of panic grow as I felt the star fall, and the forge reach out for it. It failed however, and it fell away, leaving behind residual power.

I relaxed and looked at Bron, whose expression twisted to one torn between a yes and a are you nuts?

“Noooo…I’d be strung up by his family and maybe the Emperor if I even tried. Plus, the whole family would suffer for it by association. Not that it hadn’t cross my mind though.”

Roake frowned as he said the last part, giving Bron the side eye.

Bron frowned and glared lightly back. “I said I thought about it, not planning. I’m allowed to be angry! Just can’t do nothing with it.” He finished with a grumble as he ripped a stubborn root out.

The rest of the morning was like that, and when we ate our breakfast, or saved it for later, I looked about.

The “empire” was just one of on hundred and twenty two “nations” on this rock. Those “nations” usually didn’t last long as people played a kids version of the “100 years war”, and were absorbed, or fall apart as soon as whatever alliance occurs, ends. The empire had a population of about five thousand, supposedly, and it did show with all of the families working and eating together as a community in the field.

If it weren’t Battletech, it would be somewhat idyllic.

“You think If I were to become a soldier, I’d have a chance again?”

I looked over to Bron, and thought about it for a moment, but Roake answered first.

“Not unless you become a knight. Soldiers and levies are common as dirt.”

“I could become a knight.” Bron said after a moment.

“Only in a world where you are taller.”

I couldn’t help but grin, but Bron glared at his brother who was also grinning.

He was about to retort when suddenly a loud whistle blew into the air from the distance. Everyone froze, and I mean everyone, including myself. We turned and looked to the distance where the “castle” was, and watched as both the Enforcer and Awesome marched out with a small retinue of horseback riders.

“Shit!” Roake hissed as he gobbled up his meal, Bron and I following suit. Men everywhere began scrambling to their women and children, telling them what to do, as said women and children began running from the field back to the safety of the town.

Not long after, we were gathered up by the men on horseback, with a few old army trucks now added to the mix with a variety of weapons being handed out.

“The Kingdom of Pesh has seen fit to declare war! We aim to show them the fault in that choice! You all gather up in a group and march with us! High-Ho!” the captain shouted, waving a cavalry sword about.

Getting somewhat organized, we began moving, and soon enough we reached the “Border” of the empire, where we saw, to our growing horror, five battlemechs, and what appeared to be several thousand men to our near five hundred.

“Fuck…” Bron said fearfully as he gazed upon the distant giants. I took a look at them, and saw they were mostly lights. Two Stingers that lacked their weapons save whatever they grafted on for melee combat, a pair of well-armed Locusts carrying what appeared to be four machineguns each, and a half-repaired Phoenix Hawk with all of its weapons intact.

Fuck indeed…

Men around me began to pray, some looking like they wanted to run. I didn’t blame them at all. Being a squishy PBI with barely anything resembling a modern army save two working mechs and a handful of technicals, against the same but with forces catered to ripping the PBI apart…our prospects weren’t good unless they follow that chivalric code of theirs.

The Awesome and Phoenix Hawk stepped forth until they were about two hundred meters apart from the other.

Then the “negotiations” began.

“What in the Taurian Bullshit are you doing Becker!?” The “Emperor” began.

“What’s it look like Carson? I’m here to get my stuff back!”

By stuff, he meant his levies that were earned in the last fight these two had. That meant not just the men, but their families as well. People are resources too. I sneered slightly at the idea that I was livestock to these assholes.

The two go on back and forth like this for a few minutes before finally getting to the reason we were here.

“I could wipe out your army right now Carson. My men outnumber yours two to one! And while my metal is lighter, they are faster, and could also wipe your forces out before running off and wrecking your home.”

“And if you did, you’d find my home is a hornets nest waiting to kill you in a swarm. Plus I have a longer reach than you do, and two HEAVY mechs back home just in case.”

I hadn’t been able to see what the other two mechs were, or their state, but according to what I heard, they were dock queens. A pair of Ostols of all things, which are a big deal on this world considering how common lights are comparatively. Don’t get me wrong though, I love the Pod mechs, very solid design. Even so, not exactly common out here in the black.

No one really knew, aside from the Techs and Emperor, if they could move or not. Most people didn’t want to chance it. Which proved to be the case with Becker’s next words.

“Which is why I call on Primum inter pares!”

A wave of relief flowed from everyone at those words. I could see the same for the other army despite the distance. Primum inter pares, which was latin for “First among equals”.

Essentially, it was a bout between the two leaders, winner takes all.

“Alright. As challenger, what do you want?” Carson asked with a bored tone.

“Upon victory, I lay claim to the men with you, and their families! They will become mine.”

“Very well. If I win...I get yours.”

“No way! You have five hundred. I could kill that many in a moment with my forces. You get equal to what you have on the field. If you want all my men, then I get your mechs on the field in addition to those men.” Becker shouted angrily.

“Very well. I agree to that…that is…all my men, and mechs, for all your men…and your mechs.” Carson said with a grin you could feel through the speaker.

“What?!...Throw in your two heavies that are in town, and it’s you and your Enforcer versus me and my mechs since it’s near equal in weight. Do that, and I will agree to that.”

“Done!” Carson shouted with glee.

As this happened, I suddenly felt a pull occur, and I ducked down a bit while everyone was distracted. I felt panic and prayed it wasn’t something noticeable as I felt the forge grab onto something.

With a loud CLANG! that only I was able to hear, It happened

-PDA | Scanner | Upgraded scanner | Habitat Constructor (Subnautica) (150CP)

PDA (0CP)

Loaded with an emergency intelligence and more data capacity than you could ever use, this is a survivor's second most powerful tool (after his or her brain.) The AI may get a bit . . . quirky . . . over long deployments. Your version is basically indestructible. Contains basic construction blueprints.

Habitat Constructor (50CP)

As long as the materials are present in your subspace inventory, the Habitat Constructor is capable of creating robust outposts and domiciles. Due to complex structural requirements, the constructor is unable to build anything that isn't anchored to the ground.

* "Complex structural requirements" implies that with sufficient technical abilities this limitation can be overcome.

Scanner (50CP)

The scanner uses the PDA artificial intelligence to analyze an object, often finding weaknesses or uses not immediately apparent to the user. If one of your fabricators is capable of constructing the scanned object, a blueprint is created. Scanning time varies with size and complexity.

Upgraded scanner (50CP)

For those who don't want to get too close to the Reaper Leviathan, but just really want that scan, this upgrade quadruples the scanning distance and speed.

The knowledge slammed my brain, and I suddenly knew everything I needed to. I watched as the Scanner, Fabricator, and PDA appeared at my feet, and I quickly put them under my clothes. I was thankful I had a belt to hold them all. Standing up, I was relieved to see everyone was paying attention to the mechs starting to charge at each other, and firing lasers and bullets.

“Let move away men! Not get in the way of our lords!” shouted one of the horsemen, and we turned to make a distance. I noticed the other army doing the same.

I stuck with Bron and Roake as we made our way away from the field, and watched as the Awesome fired off its two functional PPCs, both slamming into a Locust, removing it from the field. The Enforcer attacks both of the Stingers, taking hits from the Phoenix Hawk array of lasers which cause metal to fall off on fire and in ribbons of liquid. The Enforcer kept firing at the Stingers in a show of discipline as it hit both with Large Laser and autocannon, removing both from the field at once.

The last Locust tried to move around the Awesome to hit it from behind, only for its pilot and myself to be surprised, when a rear mounted PPC fired off and hit the right torso, and into its engine. It was down for the count with a double-tap from the Enforcer, who turned back to Becker’s machine with the Awesome.

Becker, realizing he was done, announced his surrender.

We cheered the emperor, and began making our way back home. I wouldn’t find out till later that this was a massive last-ditch gamble on part of Becker who was down to only his men and mechs. So, the territory that was Pesh now belonged to the Empire, along with its towns and farms.

I recall grinning as it was close to the coastline, and elbowing Bron at the time that now he had access to more girls. He gave me a glare, before grinning and agreeing.