CHAPTER 01


   The city of Uea-Au was probably the largest human settlement in all of Feyland and it was definitely the biggest city in the north. All of that might sound like something to be proud of but, as Bruce Arbuckle had discovered, all that really meant was it had a more profound smell. This was another universe, or reality, or dimension, or what have you because no one was still quite sure what to call it. The place had all of those fairy tale things that the story books had been romanticizing for most of human history. Bruce was starting to understand that what story books could not let you experience was the pungent fragrances of biological waste produced by a variety of life forms that only had a marginal sewer system at their disposal.

While you had a sky that was definitely right out of a science fiction movie, covered with reds and purples, waves of light that danced over the horizons, and that big huge swirl of colors called a gas giant, that dominated every other sight here, the sky was about as fairy tale as you got in Feyland. Uea-Au definitely lacked any dunce cap castles. Most of the city was made of glorified mud huts and looked as run down as they really were. Bruce was happy to note that while Uea-Au had it’s fare share of maidens, some that Bruce even found appealing, a lot of times they were as covered in shit as their environs.

The US consulate was a good case in point because it definitely clashed with the rest of town. The State Department had never been able to find suitable quarters to set up operations here so they bought an entire city block, knocked down the hovels on it, and built their own complex. It was surrounded by high walls, that deserved the name, and were made of good old modern concrete and rebar. The buildings had real windows filled with hardened Plexiglas that was more than aesthetic. The government contractors had tried to make the place look Uea-Au without actually being Uea-Au. They even had real air conditioning and that was quite a pleasure considering where Bruce had to go inside the complex. Bruce was even dreaming about the nice cool air as he was getting shook down by the Marine guards outside the tactical bunker.

The sweat that was rolling down Bruce’s neck did not seem to bother the little corporal that was checking his bag. He supposed it probably would not bother the girl since she had all that crap on that were the tools of her trade. Modern soldiers tended to look more like walking padded walls of storage room shelves. Every time Bruce thought about that he was more than happy to have been retired from that game. If the United States Navy had taught him anything, it was to value his comfort. That made Bruce think about this little human chick back in the city and he planned on letting her make him as comfortable as possible no sooner than he could get done with playing mail man. Dessica was about the only reason Bruce volunteered to make this run. Past that, he never volunteered for much of anything, It was another one of those lessons he had learned in the Navy.

A distant rumble stopped the little Marine from her task of disorganizing the contents of Bruce’s bag. Bruce noted the nervous looks she and her detail gave each other. Bruce had heard it as he drove in from the air field but, there was a war on. He had heard more than his fair share of artillery and he judged this to be quite distant. He was equally sure those were not even pieces that belonged to First Brigade. They sounded wrong and that meant they were likely those One-Ninety Seven’s that were used by most of the Elf factions in the area. As far as Bruce knew, the human militia didn’t even have any artillery to speak of so, they were definitely ruled out.

The looks on these kids faces led to a natural question that Bruce put to them, “haven’t been in country long have you?”

That drew a nasty look from Corporal Grace Morgan. Bruce knew that look and the kind of answer that she gave. It was typical of a kid who lacked any real experience and was always of a mind to prove herself, even to a graying old fart in a flowery hula shirt. It came out as two little words, “long enough.”
Bruce waived off the nervous twinge she and her fellow marines had, “I wouldn’t worry about that shit. You can hear it from time to time.”
Morgan was obviously not impressed and she quickly changed the subject by pointing to the leather bag that was hanging on Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce shook his head at the kid, “no, no, little missy, this is one of those bags that has a key for it and it’s above your pay grade.”

That caused the Marine to look back down on the table and pick up the little book with all of the identity papers in it. Grace glanced back through them and had a scowl when she finished, “who the hell are you again? Mister… Arbuckle?”
Bruce snatched the booklet out of her hand and developed his own scowl, “that is also above you pay grade, Corporal. Now get on your phone over there and tell your boss who is here. Do I really look like a fucking Orc to you? Do you really think one of the pig stickers would stand here and let you plunder his bag? This isn’t that kind of war.”

One of the other Marines, a young boy that still had acne on his face, a private from the looks of it, and with a certain arrogance in his voice was bold enough to state, “we’ve had problems with some of the local humans. They might try and slide somebody in here.”

That made Bruce want to laugh, “son, those people have been beat down by the elves so much they’re afraid of their own damn shadow.”

The corporal handed Arbuckle his bag back. She still had a nasty look but, was that fear that Bruce was seeing? As he took his bag, and the girl called the security center, it made him wonder what the hell had happened to make some heavily armed Marines nervous. When the little corporal told him, that he was clear to enter the bunker, Bruce put that very question to her. The rumble of distant artillery had increased, in the distance, as she answered, “we hear rumors, sir.”
That ‘sir’ told Bruce that someone on the phone had just chewed her ass about giving him a hard time. The Duty Officer might have even told the little grunt who he really was. Bruce did not care and, more importantly, he did not give her answer any due. The one thing enlisted military personnel knew how to do better than anything else was spread rumors. Bruce let it slide and let the girl open the bunker door for him. He reported right to the Duty Office and turned over his goods. Steve Park, a little guy that Bruce had always assumed had some Korean ancestry, was your basic State Department flunky. He hailed from the Pacific Northwest and, like most people stationed here, was not that happy about it.

Bruce actually found the almost routine boredom, displayed by Steve, to be a refreshing change from the nervous fear of the Marine’s outside. The guy just rubber stamped the things that Bruce handed him and the only glimmer of life that Bruce saw was when Steve asked, “what the hell are you guys doing out on that little patch of mud?” When Bruce did not answer, about his activities on an otherwise unoccupied island, Steve almost laughed. He even gave Bruce a bit of his own medicine when he said, “what? You think I’m going to call the Orc CIA? I think I’m insulted on the look part all by itself.”

Bruce played it off by laughing back, “no, I think you might call our CIA and my bosses would be even more pissed about that.”

For those who actually had some inkling of how the American bureaucracy worked, they would often ask Bruce why he was even in Feyland. The NSA specialized in electronic intercept stuff and, here, there were none to be had since the Gas Giant put out enough interference to drown out most wireless communications. It was hell on kids who were used to living their lives with a cell phone in their hands. It was even more so for an agency that required such things for their bread and butter. As Bruce damn well knew, the NSA was not about to be caught short when it came to the real war, that being against their rivals in the intelligence community.

Bruce got something of a reminder when he was looking for an excuse to enjoy the air conditioning a little longer. He wanted to catch up on the situation reports anyway. You never knew when stuff like that might be useful so, he wandered over to the break room that sat just beside the operations center. He found a person sitting on the table, watching operations through the big wall sized window, and probably doing what Bruce was here to do. This guy was also, probably, yet another rival. Bruce was not even sure who the guy was working for these days, despite the fact that they both came out of the same factory. Bruce had been his instructor when the guy first became a Navy SEAL. What Gabe Foster had been doing since he left the ranks of the operators, was anyone’s guess.

As Bruce sat down beside the guy, he was pretty sure that Foster was not some over qualified security guard. Bruce knew the guy was in country since he had seen Gabe at Fengs once. That alone told Bruce that Foster was most likely playing spook these days. Still, that left a lot of open territory and Bruce thought it might be useful to be a little more informed on the subject. Unfortunately, Gabe seemed to have other ideas because he remained evasive to the easy going, subtle, inquiries.
Gabe also seemed more interested in what was going on in the Operations Center so, he cut right to the bone with, “come on Bruce. You know I’m not going to tell you anything. That’s against the rules and you know it. You trained me, remember?”

That told Bruce more than Gabe might have realized but, then again, maybe the guy was paying Bruce a professional courtesy. Bruce laughed it off and then said, “yeah well, we’re both sitting here in a State Department facility that requires more than a wink and a smile to get in. I know, I tried it.”

Gabe almost laughed when he replied, “yeah she did have a cute little ass on her.” When Bruce raised a brow to that Gabe added, “that little corporal out at the door.” Finally, Gabe looked at his fellow, former, Navy SEAL, “oh don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

Bruce quickly changed the subject, “not the point and you know it.” When Gabe waived that off Bruce reminded him, “I just mean we’re on the same damn side here Gabe. It might come in handy…”

“What,” Gabe did laugh this time, “I show you mine and you show me yours?” Gabe went back to intently watching the uniforms in the Operations Center as he said,

“I already know what you’re doing out there at Flatbed. Not really all that interested.”

Flatbed was the name of the project that Bruce had been working on for the past few months. It was also code word material. That told Bruce a few more things about who Foster might be working for because, that operation, was considered highly sensitive. Bruce suspected the reason for that was political but, still…
Gabe also seemed to be genuine in his less than interested mode, because, he pointed at the transparent wall and to the activity beyond, “this isn’t good.” The guy did not sound fearful but, there was a hint of concern in his voice. Bruce knew that anytime someone like Foster developed that attitude, it was worthy of noting. Gabe also explained himself, “when I got here a little while ago, I found out that First Brigade sent a lot of QRF’s out last night.”

The Quick Reaction Forces were mostly helicopter mobile reserves stationed at Seau-Neaut Imperial Air Force Base. The Hundred and First maintained a lot of fire bases and patrols out in the Hurtegan Forest. If they ran into a sizable enemy force then they usually called for one of these QRF’s to back them up. While such deployments were not unusual they were also sporadic at best. The fact was, the Orc’s had been pretty quiet over the past year. It was not enough to worry Bruce but, it was enough to peak his curiosity, “how many are out?”

Gabe was still watching operations, “all of them.”

Now Bruce wanted to almost raise off the table he was sitting on, “what? You mean to tell me there’s no troops in the city right now?”

Gabe snapped, “would you keep your voice down?” He felt a slight gut reaction when he did this because his body still remembered this man as being the guy who had him doing sit ups on a beach, at four in the morning, while cold ass breakers pounded him in the face.

Gabe also knew that there were still plenty of US military personnel that were left in the city. The USAF had practically taken over Seau-Neaut. The Army had support troops there and all over town. There was a marine barracks right here at the consulate and, finally, you had the alien forces in the area too.  At least three factions of Elves had garrisons here along with the Little Dragons. Then there was the human militia as well. Uea-Au was their headquarters. Of course, as both of the former SEALS knew, most of those forces were pretty much considered useless by the US military. Bruce also knew they had a reputation that was well deserved too.

Despite the questionable effectiveness of the locals, they still had sheer numbers on their side. The Orc’s had never had the balls, assuming they even had balls, to attack this city or, for that matter, even one half it’s size.  The garrisons and defenses were just too well established for them to handle. Bruce knew all of this very well. He knew it so much so that it was taken for granted and that was why his mind was chewing over things like, “so things are heating up out in the Hurt? I guess that’s going to keep you busy.”

Gabe stopped his examination of operations and gave Bruce a sly smile as he told him, “good try. Not going to work but, hey, you get points for the less than original approach.”

“Old tricks are the best tricks,” Bruce told him before adding, “and coming from an old fart like me, that’s saying…”

At first, Bruce thought he had just felt an earthquake or, in this case, a Fey quake? It had been assumed that Feyland's tidally locked orbit, around the gas giant, made it far more geologically unstable or, at least, compared to like regions back on Earth. The only part of Feyland that was really inhabited was nothing more than a long coastal strip in one of the two twilight regions here. Even so, Bruce had never encountered a single tremor and, besides that, he knew better. What shook the room was an explosion. The sheer terror, along with a few screams in the operations center, sealed that opinion very quickly.

It was quite obvious that Gabe had reached the same conclusion because he wasted no time sliding off the table. His eyes told Bruce that the guy had shifted into tactical mode. Steve Park came running down the hall just as the first emergency sirens went off. He stopped so fast that he almost slipped and fell backwards. He grabbed the break room door and then yelled at the two men, that he knew were former elite commando’s. It was obvious he was terrified and looking for anyone he thought could save him. He had a definite effect on Bruce and Gabe when he screamed in a high pitch squeal, “they’re coming in the wall!”

As Steve ran off, Bruce guessed, “I don’t suppose he means the Elf Boy Scouts.”

The next explosion, that shook the room, told Bruce all he needed to know. It also told both operators a lot more information. Gabe vocalized this by saying, “that’s not artillery, smaller than the first. I’m guessing some kind improvised bomb, maybe?”

Bruce was huffing but remained calm enough as he replied with a logical question, “do Orc’s even do that?”

Gabe shrugged and answered, “I’m guessing the first was probably a car. They don’t do nearly enough to keep people from parking next to that wall.”

What could Bruce say to that? He looked Gabe in the eye and, at the same time, they both said, “armory.” They ran off looking to grab the biggest ordinance they could lay their hands on.