Chapter 4: Ch.0004 – Absorbed

Jimmy surveyed his burgeoning force. Six assault drones stood before him, the picture of cold, unwavering discipline. They were larger than both his recon drones and worker automata, and almost as tall as him. 

Perhaps due to the nature of their role, they were also more humanoid than the others, their blocky bodies molded into a vague approximation of a man. A small circular brass shield grafted into one arm served their defensive needs whilst the other wielded a short sword that shone with the ample sunlight that illuminated the clearing. 

A single, large yellow eye like a car’s headlight sat upon their narrow heads and three thin slits upon their jaws served as an outlet for their voices, when needs demanded that they speak. They looked impressive, he had to admit, though he had expected something more than sword-wielding robots. 

The archaic weaponry just seemed so misplaced upon their steam-punk visage. Still, it would serve his needs, nonetheless. 

Half an hour of testing had proven that they knew well how to use their armament to deadly effect. 

The corpses of the creepers had been moved and laid away from the base, just in case the smell of it attracted anything else, and with their safety secured for the moment, he had his automata working the deposit once more, and his recon drones scanning for any further attacks. 

With essence flowing into his coffers again, the next few hours followed a pattern of planning, plotting and scheming until his essence deposit accrued enough to allow for the creation of another squad of drones, and then rinse and repeat. 

When all was said and done, Jimmy stood at the head of a group of fifteen wolverines, nine eagles and four mastodons. The guard drones were indomitability made manifest, their girth eclipsing that of their smaller kin. They even stood taller than him, though not by much, and with their heavy shields and cudgels made for a sight whose presence alone could deter unwanted aggression. 

The eagles in comparison were slighter than both the wolverines and mastodons, though larger still than the workers. They boasted a crude rifle in their hands and a larger, more focused eye surrounded by a bevy of smaller lenses. 

With his army as ready as he needed it to be, Jimmy decided then that the time was ideal to deal with his most pressing issue lest he allow it to fester on his doorstep for too long. He left behind two chameleons, two eagles and two wolverines to serve as defenders in his stead and four grenades in their hands to be used as needed. 

The journey to the village was long as Jimmy led them on a circuitous route to conceal the direction from which he came, and it was sometime later that he and his troops finally marched upon the imp village. His chameleon drone revealed that the village was more populated than it had been during their last visit, though not by much. Not enough to affect his plans. 

With everything else prepared, he revealed himself and his army, their movement in perfect lockstep as they presented themselves before the shoddy thing that the village called a gate. A cry of alarm had gone up a moment ago and Jimmy found a wall bustling with diminutive ashen creatures looking down on him, their faces full of fear and shock. 

He appraised them for a moment before he acted. He plucked a grenade from a waiting wolverine’s hands. Its neck ran red. He took aim and then hurled it away from the village as far as he could. The creatures watched as the contraption sailed through the air towards a patch of empty earth, and then reeled back in shock as fire and fury erupted forth in a hungry blaze. 

Cries emanated from the wall as more than one imp jumped away in fear, though most held their ground, even if it was only barely. A moment passed. The fires died down through not wholly. He waited. 

He wanted to know how they would react. Beasts would either flee or attack, but these creatures had homes and villages. They had a society. They were more than the beasts that he had assumed them to be. And that meant that they could be reasoned with. 

"I want to speak with your leader.” 

A murmur of conversation broke across the imp ranks. Some shouted. Some whispered. Some gathered closer together. Eventually, a conclusion seemed to have been reached and three of their number stepped forth beyond their gates. They stopped halfway to where Jimmy stood. 

He presumed the speaking imp to be the tribal leader judging from how better fashioned its garb was compared to its kin. 

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Lvl. 3 Fungal Imp 

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Lvl. 2 Fungal Imp 

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Lvl. 2 Fungal Imp 

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“I is Virast ist Isf.” declared the level three in broken English. The System could break the language barrier between beings if there was a mutual desire to be understood, the being had told him, but it was never a complete thing. Certain intricacies and quirks of the tongue would be lost in the process, but he found that it worked well enough for his needs, even if it made the imps sound dumber than they likely were. 

“What want of Deeproot Tribe, master of shiny things?” asked the creature, its wariness apparent. 

Jimmy made his intent known to The System and it made it bare towards the creature. 

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Alert 

You have received an offer from Jimmy Space 

The Deeproot Tribe will be absorbed into The Nation of Space 

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As the sender, he could see the screen as it appeared to the fungal imp. It stared at the words; its brow furrowed in thought. 

"Absorbed?” Virast asked. 

“Your tribe will become part of my nation.” 

“Slaves?” 

He shook his head, displeased by the mere insinuation. “We will have no slaves in my nation. Only citizens free to do as they wish so long as they contribute and obey my laws.” 

Well, as soon as he had a formal list of laws, anyway. 

The imp seemed doubtful about his claims, and it likely had every reason to be. 

“No other way?” it asked uneasily. 

“You can choose to leave if you want to. I won’t stop you. Take your belongings and go far from here.” 

It immediately shook its head as soon as he’d mentioned it. “Dangerous. Monsters everywhere. Warriors survive but elders? Sporelings?” It shook its head again. “Death.” 

“There is one other option.” 

“What is?” 

“We fight.” 

Virast grimaced, as did its companions. It glanced to his stoic army behind him and then again to its own woeful gathering of kinsmen. “Death.” it said softly, and he agreed. It was no real choice, he knew. None of them were. It was less of a negotiation and more of a conquest, even if they were likely to avoid bloodshed. 

But this was the best for his nation and thus, it was the path he chose. 

“We join. Absorb.” it said after a moment. 

Jimmy felt the offer click immediately and a sudden awareness wash over him as he surveyed his newly minted citizenry. 

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Lvl. 3 Virast ist Isf 

Fungal Imp 

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Class: Tribal Leader 

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Lvl. 2 Ssinst ist Susp 

Fungal Imp 

Class: Sporekeeper 

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Lvl. 2 Asfel ist Kramps 

Fungal Imp 

Class: Swiftfeet 

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Similar screens came into being as he desired over the heads of each imp that he could see upon the walls, revealing that they were all still level one. These three were then the strongest the tribe had to bear. 

“You are my people now. My tribe.” 

Virast nodded with surprising pomp for a leader that had just lost control of its people. He asked him as much. 

“Why angry? No one dead. No one slave, you say. Shiny things will protect tribe? It is good. Better than before. No fear beast now.” 

Jimmy supposed that it was an optimistic way of looking at things. Were all imps so forward-thinking, he wondered before he pivoted the conversation towards the topic of beasts. 

“Foul thing.” spat Virast. “Always come, attack tribe. Big. Fast. Angry. We kill many but many more come. Always search for shiny. Tribe leader must watch.” It pointed towards his drones. “It come for shiny. It like shiny.” 

He quirked an eyebrow but thanked the imp for the warning, nonetheless. With matters resolved as best as he had hoped for, he quickly underwent the task of introducing himself to his new citizens. 

The inside of the village was as stark and barren as he had seen, but up close, he noticed the small signs of culture and art that he had missed before. Streaks of color from crude dyes painted across a hut door, or designs made of woven root or chipped rock fragments. 

It pleased him to know that his new subjects were not as barbaric as he had wrongly presumed them to be. 

And neither were they as concerned with changes in power as a human might have been, he had learnt. 

It was almost startling, in fact, how quickly the folk’s attitudes transformed from distrustful and scared to hopeful and eager. The change was sudden, even with Virast and his two aides speaking out about their new-found safety and status with surprising alacrity. 

More than one imp strode as close to him as they dared, smiles on their lips as they studied him as much as he studied them. The presence of his drones prevented them from drawing too close, of course. Especially his guards. The hulking constructs by his either side brooked more than one trepadatious look from the crowd, but even that fear seemed to dim with time. 

Imps, as he quickly learned, were not creatures that lingered overly much on what was and how things were. Their adaptability almost put him to shame. 

With introductions over with quickly enough, he was given a tour of the rest of his village. His four guards stomped behind him as the imps gave him a rough overview of how they functioned as a society. Rough because most of their dwellings were in fact underground, carved into the rock beneath his feet, where their elders and sporelings, as they called their children, lived in relative peace and safety. 

It was also where they grew the food they consumed and stored most of their valuables. 

Jimmy asked to be shown said valuables and the imps hastened to comply. He could only take them on their word that they would show him everything of worth as their tunnels were much too small for him to navigate with any amount of ease, and certainly too small for his guards. His recon drones could perhaps easily fit into the spaces, but as weak as they were, they would prove less than an obstacle for any imp treachery. 

He didn’t assume that they would betray him. In fact, he thought that they wouldn’t. It was no certain fact, but merely a feeling. Instinct, perhaps. He saw these creatures as an honest and simple sort. Still, a little precaution was always warranted. 

A few minutes later, he stood before a gathered collection of plants, rocks, and even a few essence shards. Nothing of any real value, but he was intrigued by the collected pieces of machinery and scrap that he recognized as once having belonged to the various AC exhausts and the other mechanical units that had decorated the roof. 

He asked Virast where they had found the parts. 

“Beasts. See them carry more. We kill, ambush and bring back to tribe. I say before? Beasts like shiny. These shiny. Chief like? Beasts have more. Lots more. Whole area they live filled with shiny things.” 

A whole area filled with potentially useful parts? The tinkerer in him stirred at the revelation. 

Jimmy thought about that for a moment before he refocused onto Virast. 

“Tell me more about these beasts, and where exactly it is they live.” he said even as his mind churned with plans and schemes. 

xxxxx 

His army marched at a quick pace. A contingent of Virast’s imps led the way towards the beasts, with his chameleon drones ranging further ahead scanning for any potential hostiles – and as a matter of caution, any potential ambushes from beasts or otherwise. 

The group carved a path through a landscape that rapidly shifted from the stone-marked plains to a more fertile, grass-hewn stretch of land, but grass was not all that decorated the area. 

Jimmy quirked an eyebrow as he studied the odd contraption that jutted from the earth like some half-buried rubbish. It looked vaguely like an AC unit, but that was about the same way as how a tube of toothpaste vaguely resembled a train. The shape was there, and the rough dimensions, but it was alien in almost every other way and far too big besides. 

Odder still was how it seemed to be a natural part of the landscape, no different from the rocks and the earth, and how it seemed to still be somewhat functional if the frigid current of wind he felt upon his skin was of any indication 

Jimmy used Machine Analysis. 

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Spell: Machine Analysis I (Tinkerer Variant) 

Active: Scans a target non-sentient construct or machine device. The level of understanding achieved varies with the difference in levels and attributes between the user and the target, as well as the effect of any spells or skills in play. 

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Air Circulation Port 

This natural feature of the landscape was once a part of an artificial structure, but magic has since transformed into a natural source of cold air-natured mana. 

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Interesting. He turned his eyes away from the oddity and scanned his surroundings. Dozens more structures of a similar ilk caught his eye with no two the same in size or design, and the further he looked, the more common they became. 

He wondered if the devices could be harvested and transported in any way. He had no idea how he could put them to use just yet, but he knew that it would only be a matter of time before he could. Tinkering was not a skillset that he lacked in, and nothing stirred the ember of emotion in him than a problem that needed solving. But that was a matter for later, after the local threat had been dealt with. 

The group continued from there, the imps leading them to an ambush site that they preferred to use. Tall, waist length grass covered the area. It took some doing to hide his units within, especially the guards, but he managed it before he assumed a position of his own. 

“They come often. Always searching, they are. Digging and fighting over shiny things. They come soon.” said Virast. 

Its words proved right a mere ten minutes later. 

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