For two years the Beckett Company had been little more than a front company. While based out of our a small two floor building in Dusk, it had been spending heavily. Already word had spread about the company that paid for all its transactions in zela metal and gold.
The Veskan Big Rigs were rare in the Colonies to the west. Purchasing them had been both easier and harder than Godart expected, but moving tons of zela metal on the open market of Refuge was a bonanza for speculators.
Sam Bakula CEO had purchased fifteen of the massive Hover Rigs. But they were Veskan Hover Rigs named after Doyest Vesk where they were produced by the merchants who braved the Nightmare Moors to trade with the Colony of Dusk.
Bakula was quickly considered a high roller for these purchases, and it drew attention in both Dusk and in Doyest Vesk. Buying the Veskan Hover Rigs had required dealing with merchants licensed by the Valley of Vegalia Comission, with official printed certificates with holographic seals. It was lightyears beyond the tech commonly used in the Colonies but considered quite common in the Lost Colonies. Sam Bakula knew which side of the bread held his butter so he accepted the sales documents from the VofV Commission.
Sam was a great face, and a terrific actor, his accounting skills backed up his role, but the one thing he didn’t know the first thing about was the laws in the Lost Colonies. Godart had made it clear first major shipment of Zela Metal went under the cover of a food shipment.
He prepped the drivers, made sure they were all Earthers and sent the first payment split between a few hovertrucks traveling convoy style. They had to travel convoy style. The only way from Dusk to the Lost Colonies was across the Nightmare Moors. It was a rugged trek, fighting off nightmares and Uth Raiders the entire way.
Drivers made their first trip, but many were stopped an interrogated by Brothers of the Fist upon arrival at the furthest borders of the Lost Colonies. A few drivers were quite intimidated by the Monks, who quickly and efficiently counted crates of food checking everywhere for hiding passengers.
It seemed that two years previous to present the WarChief Zar’cos was raising hell raiding the Brothers of the Fist. The Uth Warchief was a rogue agent, serving Warmonger, and his army was split into many raiding groups. Among his highest servants were the Uthvelor of the Mind Spikes, who implanted memories into the minds of their victims getting them to do almost anything. The Monks made note of the Zela metal, but said nothing of it at the time.
It was a common enough occurrence for drivers to be mind spiked and not even know it. As a result all words of contrary didn’t even slow the Monks from checking every inch of the rigs. The food deliveries were tested and retested, before finally being allowed to go to market in the Valley of Vegalia. Since the Valley of Vegalia spread from the Dome of Deldoroon to the Dome of Doyest Vesk, there were enough markets between the edge of the territory and the Dome to expend all their food supplies. The return on the food was much lower margins than expected. It seems a bumper crop the previous season had caused a huge supply.
The people of the Valley of Vegalia seemed very nice to the fellow Earthers, but spoke in hushed tones about the Jinn Families who lives on the hills and forests beyond the VofV. These citizens knew next to nothing about the K’iorn, the Baribur and the other Children of the Falosini. Believing them to be Jinns and Peris, many VofV citizens thought they were mystical or magical.
The olgogs they looked at as green hairy apelike natives beneath their notice and unworthy of their attention. That was during their first visit, of course, that was before the Mag Der’al Uprisings. As many knew and Sam Bakula was quick to learn with some fiscal pain.
After the Mag Der’al attacks, the Valley cut off all trade. Claiming they had been out of communication and didn’t know, but couldn’t safely return across the Nightmare Moors, Beckett Corporation’s Hover Rigs were allowed to distribute their food. But once again they went through careful scrutiny, and the zela was found, and the monks once again said nothing about it at the time.
The outpost was set up, just an hour south of the furthest border of the VofV. It was a straight shot to the Dead Dome and back in three hours flat, double that if the local VofV Peacekeepers decided to get frisky.
Once on a practice run, one of the Olgogs was found by a crowd of Vegalian Earthers. They blocked the path of his hover rig, and would have overturned the vehicle if a VofV Peacekeeper hadn’t come along and forced the crowd to disperse, giving the Olgog a firm warning that due to “Native Bio-Terrorism” no Natives were allowed into the VofV’s furthest settlements due to fear of attack.
Apparently these Mag Der’al had royally pissed off the Brothers of the Fist and the VofV Comission. They closed borders and it hit Sam Bakula’s bottom line hard. The costs of the materials for the self-propelled radar-distraction balloons, the lack of return on a year of trade, and all the repairs on the Hover Rigs going across the Nightmare Moors had simply ripped through the corporate accounts and it wasn’t a week where Sam wasn’t calling up Godart on Radio and needing a little more Zela Dust, or a few more bars of Zela metal sent over. Godart wasn’t an accountant, but after two years of operations what he estimated as a 2 Ton Cost Operation had ballooned into a 5 Ton Cost Operation. He hadn’t wanted to do it that way, but he did have 15 state of the art Veskan Hover Rigs, way better than the Mal’ie drawn caravans used in the Goblin Lands and the western Colonies for the majority of trucking.
Now came the day of the job….a job he had both been dreading and excited for…for two years.
Goblin Lands 2 Intermission 2 Event 3: Salvaged Tons from the Dead Dome of Deldoroon
If he had known then, what he knew now about how illegal this sort of deal was, he might have found another way, but Godart was a smart Olgog, too bad he selected the wrong comrades…
Part 1: The Triple D Job (Dead Dome of Deldoroon)
Lorne cracked his knuckles as he slid into the cab, sitting shotgun next to the driver. He was awkwardly fitted into the seat, as his platemail didn’t allow for easy mobility, but then again, as long as he could move his arms up and down he could fulfill his role. Setting his blade next to him, he looked out the window, preparing himself for the task at hand.
All in all, it didn’t sound like a terribly hard job to him. As long as things stayed cordial, he couldn’t see why any harm would come to any of them. It was of course, fortunate for the group that while the “Explorer Lord of Chooru” was a bit clumsy at times, he was a smooth talker when he wanted to be. He would fulfill the duties that this olgog Godart had assigned to him, accompanying cabs on all trips, and keeping watch at the docks inside Deldoroon.
He was quite excited to actually be inside the dead dome, for as a shadowmancer he was intrigued by the nightmares that lived there and looked forward to seeing (from afar hopefully) the creatures that inhabited the dome alongside the five families.
Next to Lorne in the drivers seat sat Terry Bakula, younger brother of Beckett Corp CEO and a trying to prove himself by working his way up type of guy. Terry didn’t know that Beckett was just a front company and his brother was just Godart’s fall guy. So he had taken the first run very seriously two years ago, and gotten his ass beaten and humiliated when he pulled a shotgun on a Brother of the Fist. He had kept it out of his official reports, and no one at Beckett knew about the little altercation.
The second trip had run a bit smoother, though he had lost a foot to a nightmare when he had gone on a piss break. As a result his left foot had been replaced with a cheap synthetic. Not nanocybernetic, it was just sort of a robot boot that his nub of a shin locked into. It had a solar battery, and a car charger, and even a small compartment for special contraband.
Terry Bakula was whistling a strange downhome tune that would feel just right in a barn dance, but clashed a bit with the thrum of the hover emitters. Here in the cab it was a constant reminder of the small cushion of force keeping the massive rig moving a few feet above the ground. Terry also made sure that Lorne kept his hands and feet far away from the controls. Even going so far as to slap his hand away, when Lorne tried to adjust a mirror to get a better view of the side in case of ambush.
Despite that one misstep the ride to the Dead Dome was uneventful. Seeing smiling Earther faces in the windows, resulted in no trouble until they reached the doors of the Dead Dome. Terry saw one of the Monks, the same ones who had given him a stern beating, at the chain link fence that surrounded the Dome. It was objectively there to slow down Nightmares that left the Dome long enough for the VofV Peacekeepers to spot them. It doubled as a good checkpoint, and the Brotherhood of the Fist was using it since the Mag Der’al Uprisings.
Terry pulled up and rolled down the window offering up the paperwork Beckett Corp had received upon purchase of the trucks. One of the things the brotherhood had checked each time were the title of the vehicle in question. Any colonial vehicle from Dusk was out of luck and got double the amount of scrutiny, but the Veskan Rigs had been bought legit, and their previous trips had verified their authenticity.
Terry and Lorne sat there for a few moments while the paperwork was verified.
The Monk giving Terry stinkeye walked closer to the window and asked, “Who is that? Another Duskan gunslinger thinking he can ride into town like a cowboy and disrespect the good people of Vegalia?”
Lorne smiled and greeted the Monk without skipping a beat, “Here are my papers, Brother Monk. I am sure you will find everything in order.”
“What is your business here?” asked the Monk as he checked the documents, “Not much for an archaeologist here just a Dead Dome filled with things better off dead…”
“Brother Soochi, let the poor Duskan alone,” said another monk, “Their pickup order means they will be back through here a whole bunch of times today.”
“What?” asked Terry.
The other monk continued, “Don’t worry Brother Soochi, they will be back today, tomorrow, and the rest of the week. Enough time for you to teach the Duskans some respect if needed. Heck with a rig this size, it can haul what… about 80 tons per trip. Four trucks in this caravan, at least 30 trips according to this tonnage report.”
Lorne gulped when he heard that. Sure a bag oif Zela metal powder was worth a small fortune to any smithy worthy of his hammer. But thirty truck halls from here to the depot and another 30 from the depot across the entire goblin lands to Port Unen. Then he did a little math and realized if all fifteen trucks were used it would take 8 trips. He really really hoped Godart and his gang had a surprise waiting at the depot, or the rest of the season was going to be spent doing long haul trucking for this single job…
As the gates set high in the wall of the Dome opened up revealing a dark interior, all of Lorne’s complaints were wiped away. He could see a futuristic city spread out around him. From the light streaming in from the damaged dome roof, he could see the skyscrapers spreading out. Miles of buildings, each individual and yet constructed in an identical method, giving the entire Dome city a sublime beauty. Here they were at least ten stories above the city streets. Thick steel cables were hung in groups of five, strung from old landing pads and pedestrian bridges between the skyscrapers. For Lorne it was a beautiful if terrifying sight. The Hover rig was a few feet above the heavy metal cable, and so very far above the city streets. One by one, they made their way across the immense city. Designed to comfortably fit millions, this city was a shell of what it was built to be.
Lighting arrays flickered on and off in time with the power surges running through the city’s grid. Here held up by cables the city looked eerie and haunting. In the distance a few hovercopters could be seen, making their patrols. Their cannons fired down upon unknown insurgents, and the counter fire from crude rockets and jerry-rigged plasma ejectors lit up the darkness like fireworks.
Terry Bakula was suddenly quite happy they were here with the Five Families blessing. It kept them free from being targeted by the Hovercopters, and probably resulted in the copters putting more pressure on insurgents suspected of making the Beckett Company shipment a challenge.
The gleam of chrome and the shine of old plastics greeted Lorne as he looked down at the ruined cityscape. Down among the concrete rubble, he could see Nightmares of all sizes and shapes tending their lairs.
Terry who had seen the Dead Dome on his trip in the past two years leaned over, whispering, “It gets way worse at night. The floor can get like a living moving thing down there. I kind of hope I don’t draw the lots for the Night trips if we got to make so many trips to get this stuff.”
Lorne noticed the driver was barely paying attention, and more than a few times the Rig nearly ran off the side of the cables. He asked, “No railing huh? Is that hard to drive?”
“Toughest part of the trip, though I heard tell that my brother’s partner told him we were driving through the Cloud Topped Mountains of the Yyan Gor. You know what a Yyan Gor is Mister?”
“Can’t say that I’ve dealt with a Yyan Gor personally, but I’ve seen a few lesser Yyan Giants and they were nasty nasty creatures,” muttered Lorne, shuddering a little when he thought of the Yyan Wild Giants he had faced at Hebron, “Yyan are an unlikeable bunch. They also have a bad habit of enjoying eating Humans as snacks.”
Terry Bakula snorted, “I know my brother would not be cool having the entire Beckett Corp fleet crushed and crew eaten by angry Giants. Plus where is the profit in that.”
“Does he have an Insurance policy?” asked Lorne still keeping up the cover story Godart had explained to them. He knew full well that Godart planned on crossing the Yyan Gor Mountains.
Then he saw the massive pallets with 10,000 tons of scrap materials. Lorne sighed. Terry gulped, and they both kind of hated they were stuck moving this much material. One trip would have been fine, but knowing they had up to thirty more pickups like this one both frowned.
Part 2: Successfully Fooling the VofV Commission but not the Brotherhood
Former Red Bishop Jamie’s feet ached as he adjusted the altitude pedals on the Hover Rig. He had been wandering the Goblin Lands for months now learning about each of the new settlements and mini nations. He walked through the Port of Unen, Simonsburg, parts of Brez, (the less dangerous parts) through the UTR and through the Deral Collective (the non diseased parts). During his travel he heard of this Olgog who wanted to build a spaceship. When hearing of this Jamie laughed at the image of an Olgog with a Lego space ship running around yelling “SPACESHIP! SPACESHIP!!” over and over again. Ah, good times.
However it seemed like it was the real deal and he was moving tons and tons of raw material through this domed location. Alright, lets see how legit this was. After speaking to this Godart, Jamie was assigned the task of being the trail boss and driving a truck. Shrugging, this was a pay check after all. So he would play his part, drive the truck real casual like. Though it was hard being casual when driving the Rigs along those high wire cables. There were a few close calls when his Rig nearly tumbled off the side, but luckily the controls were precise enough for a recovery before he hit free fall. It was the scariest moment so far for trail boss Jamie, and compared to that ,dealing with the local law enforcers had been a piece of cake.
The VofV Patrol Officers were easy sells for the likes of Lorne and trail boss Jamie, and the first twenty trips were moving smoothly. Jamie found he liked working with Godart’s crew, the Beckett Corporation seemed to hire some quality drivers, and the Rigs were well maintained. The expensive hidden compartments were working like a charm, even when they were scanned from above by a VofV Robot Armor pilots. It left them alone, and Jamie found this work surprisingly satisfying. There was something satisfying about delivering goods to those who were excited for it.
He also enjoyed playing his part. He was surprised to see how much latent racism was boiling under the surface for the VofV Patrol Officers since the Mag Der’al Uprisings. It seemed the only ones not calling for Olgog blood was the Brotherhood of the Fist.
But there was the rub, in that every time the convoys went through the gates outside of the Dead Dome, the Brotherhood seemed to be looking for something. He wasn’t sure what is was at first, but then after the seventeenth trip he figured it out. The Brotherhood Monks were checking for a payment.
On the twentieth trip, one of the monks a Brother Soochi asked, “So Mr. Jamie, what is your people paying for all this salvage?”
“I don’t handle that Brother Monk,” said Jamie, “The guys in the suits make the deals, I just haul what they bought back and forth.”
“Yes I see a Mr. Sam Bakula listed here as the primary contact…in Dusk,” said Brother Soochi, “But I have been counting the hours from each of your company’s trips into and out of the Dead Dome. And you are not driving back to Dusk each trip…so where are you taking these products when you leave here?”
Jamie wanted to say, its none of your damn business you heathen. But he bit his lip and thought for a second and said, “I’m sorry, due to security concerns I can’t give that information out. But you see these forms all have Mr. Sam Bakula’s contact info, and you can call the company headquarters and ask them for that information.”
Brother Soochi said, “I see….”
There was something in the way the Monk had said that, that led Jamie to grow very concerned. He always had a good sense of danger, like a guardian angel was on his shoulder. It was currently going off like a gong, and Jamie really didn’t want to be around this monk any longer than he had to.
“I get it, you I can trust Brother Monk,” said Jamie, “It’s just if anyone were to overhear me telling you and anything went wrong. That would be quite dangerous for my career.”
“I see”
There it was again.
“Brother Monk, my boss has me on a tight schedule. Could we just head in to pick up the salvage? The metal and plastic aren’t going to move itself and I have to manage at least ten more trips.”
“I see….okay Mr. Jamie,” said Brother Soochi, “You drive in, and do your work. Ten more trips, is at least a few more days. We talk soon. After I talk with your friend Mr. Bakula.”
“Sure.”
The last trip back was days later, and Jamie was happy to no longer be responsible for entering that dome. There was something about the place that made him feel sick inside, and he didn’t like it. All the crew were complaining about it, except the Chooruvian Explorer and the Olgogs.
The drivers were all suffering from bad dreams, really twisted dreams. As a result the truckers were exhausted. Luckily they had been switching off in groups of four all week.
On that last trip back to the Beckett Company Depot, Jamie had a nagging feeling. Nosy Brother Soochi was nowhere to be found at the Dead Dome outer fence. Jamie should have felt confident. The VofV Patrols ignored them, already considering the Beckett Company Hover Rigs a common sight every day this week. They were all good ole Earthers, and seemed to be on the up and up.
So when Jamie pulled into the Depot and saw a pair of Goblin Gunners arguing with Brother Soochi and a small floating mekanoid, Jamie immediately felt relief. It was a very particular kind of relief. Its not the relief that everything is going to turn out allright. It’s that relief you feel when all day you’ve known something was going to go horribly wrong, and suddenly instead of all the possibilities that haunted you, you see exactly how fucked you really are. But at least it is better to know the specifics.
Then he realized quite how bad this all looked, all found out by one questioning Monk. It looked like militant Olgogs were stockpiling materials for building rockets about an hour from Deldoroon.
Godart leapt from the cab and tried to quickly talk the Monk down. But leaping down from the cab, just further cemented a storyline in the Monk’s mind. It is worthy to note the monk was wrong. His elaborate plot involving Olgog Mag Der’al tricking Earther merchants into shipping them materials to make more rockets like the previous one that had hit the valley during the Mag Der’al Uprisings.
A terrorist cell so close to the borders of the Lost Colonies that it was virtually under their nose, was all Brother Soochi could think.
In a way Godart was lucky. His own name never came up, and a little fast talk, and he did have the Monk believing Sam Bakula was completely in the dark about the depot. Brother Soochi’s mekanoid however called in the cavalry.
It beeped saying, “Under Mag Der’al Terrorist Response Protocols, a wing of Robot Armor is on the way, Brother Soochi. This entire place will be leveled under order from the Comission.”
Godart signaled the Radar Decoy Balloons, suddenly happy he had paid extra for quality scanner baffling technology. With such a large dangerous “looking” presence appearing on the northern horizon, an all call for Robot Armor went out.
The mekanoid floating next to Brother Soochi chirped, “Robot Armor has been redirected to a threat north of here. An attack fleet of unknown origin, possibly Iron Republic, has been discovered to the north. As the Mag Der’al terrorists here have not yet assembled their weaponry, they are considered a secondary threat to the fleet, Brother Soochi. The nearest Hovercopters who have been assigned cleanup of this site will arrive onsite in a half-hour by base estimates.
Does this threat deserve an immediate airstrike?”
Godart quickly talked Soochi down, and the Monk muttered, “The workers here who work for Beckett, do not deserve to be harmed. They may go. You tell any other natives here, they have thirty minutes until this place becomes uninhabitable. Do we understand each other?”
Godart felt like making a snide comment about the Monk’s complete lack of understanding of the situation. Until he realized he would need at least 30 minutes to get the pallets situated and some semblance of order moving this salvage across the mountains towards the deserts and miles and miles between here and Port Unen.
Godart left Trail Boss Jamie to talk to the Monk, and met up with Olgog the Olgog. The infamous OtO had been busy and each Hover Rig was overloaded with salvage. That still left about eight thousand tons of salvage on the deck on pallets sorted and organized based on type and material.
Godart was suddenly very happy that the Yagogi tribals were on his side.
Part 3: Dragging 8,000 tons by a pack of Olgogs, two APCs and a Strider across the Mountains is slow work.
There was a reason why people traveled across the dangerous Nightmare Moors instead of the ravines and crags of the Yyan Gor Mountains that made a border between the Lost Colonies and the Goblin Lands. The simple reason was most Hover Rig pilots couldn’t manage the steep inclines and sheer drop offs. It was a death trap for the large vehicles, and barely safe for a small hoverbike to traverse.
The more complex reason was that the mountains have been home to dangerous man-eating giants since before Earthers came to Refuge. And that was before last year, when the giants were militarized under the banner of the Yyan Empire. Now it was traversing impossible conditions with an impossible threat.
So it was much to their guide’s surprise that not a single giant bothered them the entire seven day trek through the mountain tops. Up and down frozen peaks topped in clouds they climbed mile by mile. Many a close call was had by the caravan, but the Yagogi never spotted a single Yyan. They knew the Yyan were there…stalking them, but they never attacked.
Back at the Depot, the totemic tribals Zh Gog’ol Mak’lur, Onigor, Maggul and Der loo’Dol channeling the spirit of mak hob’lok to pull the materials and Yalar Took used the Leyas to cause huge vines to grasp around the cargo pallets. Mak Hob’lok totemic Tribals began to haul the vine nets and the cargo they contained and drag them across the rocky and grassy field. They moved the pallets between trees as they pulled, and other Yagogi tribals shapeshifted in their massively strong Olgogolem armor lifted the pallets when they got stuck. The work was slow, and hard, but they were deep into the Mountain range and far from attack by the Brotherhood or their VofV allies.
Yalar Took approached Godart, “Our gogs have seen no trace of the Yyan. No tracks, no spoor, no markings. In these mountains there should be thousands of the Yyan Giants. I think we are being watched.”
“Hey as long as they are just watching and not attacking it’s a win for us right?” asked Godart who couldn’t help but comment, “Nobody even warned me about Giants in these mountains. You’d think that would be important to tell a guy.”
Yalar Took looked at him oddly, “These are the mountains where the Giants who attacked the Rehsedgogs and attacked the Hebron Earther City marched from. They have been all that has been spoken of since the end of the Mag Der’al Uprisings.”
“I’ve been busy with more important things than some dumb giants,” muttered Godart.
“Like a spaceship,” said Yalar Took.
“Like a spaceship,” agreed Godart, not sure if the Yagogi female was being sarcastic or not.
Part 4: One Doesn’t just Walk across the Goblin Lands
Dragging huge vine bundles across the sand left long trails behind them. The infamous OtO didn’t like it. He would have preferred finding a better tactical way home, but bringing this many tons from the depot to Port Unen had been Godart’s command, and he was the gog in charge.
OtO was happy the Giants had avoided them, but he would have given them a good thumping if they tried to come by. Still there was something ominous how quiet the mountain forests had become. As if there were an entire army hushed up around them. But nothing was done, nothing was said, and they had made it out across the fields and saw the Tla’loc’alan Tradeing Post.
Godart thought about it and realized a few bags of Zela dust would buy them, their rigs and cargo a first class trip as far as Simonsburg, and save them weeks of trudging across the deserts dragging their cargo at the pace of their slowest vehicles.
The fact no one wanted to face was that they didn’t have enough water to make it across the desert unless they visited the oases the Yagogi spoke of along the way. But a Hovertrain ride would shave weeks off their trip. Godart smiled to himself, and had Terry Bakula turn the Rig towards the Hovertrain depot.
About twenty minutes after the course correction, Trail Boss Jamie radioed back with quite a bit of concern, “Godart, we have aerial threats that have been pacing us since we got in sight of UtR territory.”
Godart could see the sleek fightercraft, wooden hulled with crystal lattices growing across it. Its energy cannons were pointed squarely at Godart’s caravan.
"Olgog the Olgog, you are not welcome in our lands. You have attacked us in the past and recently we have found out about your plotting against us. Please leave. We do not wish a fight, but we will not let you plot here. If you plan to fight, know that your presence has already been reported and your actions will be judged by all. Our fighters will escort you out. “
Godart said, “I knew you pissed off some people Olgog, but really, and entire nation with an airforce? What did you do to cause that?”
“I don’t know. They take stuff the wrong way,” mumbled OtO.
“Oh yeah? I think it was when you unleashed an orbital attack on them by illegally hijacking satellites,” grunted the driver.
Godart asked, “How is that working out for you?”
OtO grumbled loudly.
Godart sat back In his seat with a thud. He checked his maps. UtR territory was a huge area, and the only way to get to Yagogi Land without passing through the Tla’loc’alan contingent required a trip miles to the north, across the territory controlled by the Armies of Eloga and the Der’al Collective.
OtO said angrily in accented Olgog, “I don’t trust the Elogans. They are militaristic and highly territorial.”
Godart looked at the map again, “Without being able to go through Tla’localan territory we are stuck going north or fighting against the whole Lur Union airforce, which will cost us our entire operation.”
“What about Mag Buskt’s air ships?” asked Yalar Took, she had been impressed by the Bruskti airships in the past.
“Flying over UtR or Der’al Collective territory to come to us would be considered an act of war by those nations,” said OtO looking at the current political situation, “They would be shot down. And that would cause many repercussions for my chieftain.”
“Since when do you care about your chieftain?” asked Godart.
“Champion of Mag Buskt,” reminded OtO, “Do you really think I would have let the Brothers of the Fist push us off the depot land, if I hadn’t been directly ordered to hurt no one? I would have deployed so many missiles, lasers and anti-air railguns as I could have gotten my hands on them. “
“Ever think it might just be better not to kill everyone you meet and disagree with?” offered Yalar Took.
“You’re sweet, that’s a sweet thought,” said Godart with a thick element of sarcasm in his voice.
Trail Boss Jamie replied, “Godart, I need to know where we are headed. I’m not ordering the trucks into the cannons of those UtR aircraft. We’d all like to survive to get paid.”
“South?” asked OtO.
“Also controlled by the UtR between here and there, unless we want to backtrack to the Yyan Gor Mountains and head south through the K’iou Homeforge lands. Then out into the Trail of Auf MagLal and to the sea…at a cost of months of travel and attack by Torkols (undead), and Red Furs,” said Yalar Took as she observed their maps. She knew these places because the Yagogi’al and other Karovian tribes had some of the best trail lore of the peoples of the entire southern lands.
“Your people are UtR,” said OtO looking at Yalar Took, “Can’t the Yagogi get an injunction or something so we can at least travel to your lands. If we travel to your lands, I think I can get Mag Buskt to pick us up.”
“That is weeks away if we have to march up and through the Der’al Collective,” said Yalar Took, “But it is closer than going back the way we came. Calm Olgog named Olgog, upset will not serve us. I know if we were to call upon the United Tribes of Refuge to pull back the aircraft it would take weeks of argument with the Auf Lal’al and with the Gangs of Uf Mag’og. It would be faster to take the old trails. Before the Elogans and their Kolgul Militia moved in force, the Yagogi walked these trails when we would barter with the other nomads who gathered at what is now Jarlite Camp.
As long as we stay between the dune lines, walk all night and avoid all settlements we can reach the Yagogi Lands in three weeks.
“Three weeks?” asked Godart realizing this trip between the depot and Port Unen was going to be an adventure in itself.
Epilogue
The path the yagogi had promised was true to their word. So far they had avoided all the Kolgul Militia patrols and the Armies of Eloga on march from camp to camp. Water was the largest challenge, but again the Yagogi saved the lives of Godart and his drivers. There was many a day during the second week when they wondered if Godart’s original plan had involved dying in the desert from lack of water, since they had been planning on driving across the desert and Godart’s gang had never actually secured a good water source outside of Port Unen for itself.
Then word came to them as dawn was about to rise, and the Yagogi had hidden the rigs within sand dunes for their daily rest. An Ur-king tribal, his long green fur meticulously maintained, dressed in armor fashioned from armorfiend hide, waved at them from the nearby ridgeline.
He used his polearm as a walking stick leaving its sheath over the axeblade.
“Hail, Travelers. You are welcome here in the lands of the Der’al Collective,” said the tribal, “I have been sent by the wise Bo’gan to warn you. On your trail is a vanguard of Yyan Giants who followed you down from the mountains. Ahead of you is another vanguard of giants, signaled back from Hebron Border to investigate you, raid you, eat you and make your life generally disagreeable.”
Godart asked, “Well Buddy, anyway we can get you and your Der’al Collective to help us with these giants? Maybe cover for us while we head away?”
The tribal grinned, “No I have only been authorized to warn you. The Armies of Eloga have a nonaggression agreement with the Yyan Giants. They have free passage through our lands as long as they don’t attack our settlements or raid our people. You didn’t get our okay to travel through our lands, or the Collective would have told you about the giants. Makes it dangerous. We’ve also been warned by the UtR that a certain Olgog named Olgog is traveling with your caravans. Bo’gan doesn’t like certain things he heard this Olgog say about the Elogans selling Olgogs as food to the Krato. All lies of course, but Bo’gan said if you are a friend of OtO, you best head towards the nearest border and leave this territory as soon as possible.”
Godart got an idea, “If you let me call in some Air support I can get this stuff out of here much faster.”
“You’d have to convince Oliver, Bo’gan’s right hand gog,” said the Ur-King Tribal as he handed Godart a comm crysal. Of course as it touched his immutable flesh it stopped working. Yalar Took held it for Godart and they could all hear the sounds from the Der’al Collective council.
Godart gulped. Moving this shipment of salvage was getting more and more dangerous by the moment.
Rewards
Godart gains Halfway Home, but the Costs were so High!
Instead of 2 Tons of Zela cost, the following set ups costs 4 Tons of Zela total instead: Shell Company in Dusk, 15 Hover Rigs from Doyest Vesk (with expensive custom secret compartments that can hide Olgogs from Scanners), 15 Immutable Drivers pay for two years, Training at the Zelgan University for Olgogs who joined the Godart Let’s Build a Spaceship club, Building a Depot on the edge of Lost Colonies territory, Developing the technology for & Building Radar Decoy Self Propelled Balloons, Holloween Costumes. Additional Costs: Depot on the edge of the Lost Colonies has been compromised and taken by Brotherhood of the Fist….
Gains 15 Earther Immutable Drivers (F.S. 4, 2 attacks, armed with Shotguns with shot, shell and incendiary shells, 50 shells total for each driver). Gains 5 Olgogs with FS 4 who have Science Skill of 3 and Profession (Engineer) Skill of 3 trained in Earther academia for two years. Has 10 Radar Decoy Balloons (SAR 3, Move 8) remain from the escape from the DDD.
Godart and his Hover Rigs and Gang are now stuck in on the Intermission 4 mission: Neliff Sleep Till Unen
Yagogi’al gains 5 Gold Bars, and Yalar Took and Zh Hob’Rhug, Zh Gog’ol Mak’lur, Onigor, and the other Yagogi sent on this mission are now stuck on the Intermission 4 mission: Neliff Sleep Till Unen if they want to collect their Zela Dust.
Black Lorne gains 5 Gold Bars, and Lorne sent on this mission is now stuck on the Intermission 4 mission: Neliff Sleep Till Unen if they want to collect the Zela Dust.
Lord Grimaldus gains 5 Gold Bars, and Trail Boss Jamie (the Red Bishop) sent on this mission is now stuck on the Intermission 4 mission: Neliff Sleep Till Unen if they want to collect the Zela Dust.
Olgog the Olgog gains Diplomatic errors of the Past haunt OtOs present. OtO knew full well the reason Godart’s caravan had been shunned from the UtR because of his presence. Hiding himself is not currently an option, and Godart’s caravans are under siege by Giants in the upcoming mission.
However OtO gains access to 10 Bruskti airships that can come save them, and the cargo but it will take 44 trips for the airships to bring all the salvage back so they would have to hold the position for 14 Days. Their tactical choice, Choice 1: try and fight a break out and bring the salvage the rest of the way to Yagogi Land in Karov where they can bring the salvage over safely and easily. Or choice 2 hold their current position halfway across Army of Eloga lands for two weeks while the aerial support comes in ONLY IT REQUIRES GODART to get air support Approval from the people who “own” the airspace. The Der’al Collective.
Lalder gains Operational Awareness. They have now mapped all Auf Lal’al lands and are sure no Neliff are in the region, however they have tracked a few Neliff going north into Der’al Collective lands.
Camp Fire Stories of the Yagogi’ial told during the trip
Once upon a time, there was a disgraced member of the Venerable Tribe of Yagogi’al the Og’ab. His name was Zh’ Hob’rhug referring to him being a mischievous and exploratory behavior as a cub and the “great stone loot” that he would find. He was full of excitement, and much great ambition. He would grow big and strong like his ancestors before him: acting as a brave zela scimitar carrying Yagogi tribal, finding an equally energetic mate in the charismatic Zh’gul Took and standing alongside in battle Yagogi’al the Og’ab himself. Life was to be grand with such status, but all this was before the downfall. As one of the Yagogi, it was the worst offense to lose the tribes most prized possession. On the very night that Yagogi’al’s only cub Tun’Dra came into the tribe, the young warrior Zh Hob’rhug lost his zela battle blade and thus began the legend of the secret keeper. For some time, Zh Hob’rhug hid from the rest of the tribe the fact that he had lost his zela blade. News had spread amongst the tribals, the mak’abs, the ur maks, the gor’abs and finally this grave news had reached to the elders. Yagogi’al the Og’ab called for his dear warrior, surely this news could not be true about the ambitious Zh Hob’rhug. In the tent of the elders which was normally a place of peace and meditations, surrounded by other respected elders and loved ones his mate and new cub, Yagogi’al the og’ab asked him to present his trusted blade. Zh Hob’rhug had no answer, for the news was true and on that day he was punished having his dominant hand removed as a statement of the Yagogi laws. He was now disgraced, for all to know of his shame and his mate to share in this misery; their old life was but a distant memory.
Then came the formation of the UtR, and the ordeal in the Homeforge, and in the end of that very sticky situation had Zh Hob’rhug bringing new zela into the tribe. It was enough zela for 5 new battle blades (2 of which were actually made into blades, the rest were forged into arm and leg cuffs to hold the strongest of olgogs) and with it Zh Hob’rhug and his mate Zh’gul Took had risen above the disgrace and fully reinstated as active members of the tribe.
Zh Hob’rhug was inspected by Orgog’ol, a young gor’ab and experienced medical examiner so that the zela splinters be removed from his wounded arm and the hand fully healed. Some things had gone back to the normal plans of the way life was supposed to have gone, but Zh Hob’rhug had continued his place as the secret keeper. Finding ways of keeping contacts and keeping Yagogi’al informed of interesting activities such as a new big spender in the lands throwing down large quantities of the most precious zela, and maybe just maybe Zh Hob’rhug could get in on some of that as well. He informed Yagogi’al that he had learned of 10,000 tons of materials that needed moving through the cover of night without fighting, and maybe they were just the tribe that could get the job done and make a new wealthy acquaintance.