Chapter 23: Tactical Espionage Action: Solid Fake.

Oh, nuts! It would now seem that circumstances were once more conspiring to get me in trouble with someone who could potentially cause me a lot of physical pain. Perhaps the time had come to cut my losses and run for my life? This seemed like a really good idea, considering that I didn't actually have any losses to cut in this situation.

It's not like I knew any of these people, right?

Oh, wait. I can't actually do anything that would allow me to escape. Why not? Because Libby had shut down all the nifty skills and magic that I'd acquired.

Honestly, that didn't really bother me at all, because now if I were brutally murdered within the next 20 seconds or so, it would be completely her fault and she would feel so bad about it!

She'd beg for my forgiveness, but I'd be no mood to listen because I'd be dead and she would weep and gnash her teeth, and howl towards the sky while holding my body in the pouring rain. Real dramatic stuff like that.

“Max! Oh, Max! What have I dooooone?” She’d howl.

Too late, Libby. Far, far too late!

One: I don’t have a body, so I wouldn’t be able to hold your corpse in the rain. Two: If I had a body, I still wouldn’t hold your corpse in the rain! Three: If you were to die, I’d join you involuntarily, so please don’t die. Four, stop letting your mind wander and talk to this woman before she kills us!

Oh, who am I kidding? I’d forgive her a split second! Libby and I were friends.

Okay. Focus, Max. There’s a surefire solution to this problem that any red-blooded man who was born in the late twentieth century can use to get out of any mess. And that was to set aside his ego and ask WWSSD?

What would Solid Snake do?

Who is Solid Snake you find yourself asking?

Ha! I’m more than happy to answer that question. Solid Snake was the greatest human being who ever lived. He was a warrior, a lover, and a philosopher. A reluctant killer with the heart of a poet, who dedicated his life to opposing the relentless ambitions of the global military industrial complex that was embodied in the soulless mechanized war machine known and feared as…Metal Gear. The ultimate terror!

Eventually Snake’s burdens became too heavy for even him to bear. After the decisive battle with his evil clone brother who was in actuality this really horny old Russian guy that was in love with his dad, Snake left the battlefield forever, to embrace his final days in peace, in the company of his loved ones. Because real warriors aren’t afraid to let go of the past.

But just because Snake’s war was over, didn’t mean that war itself was over. It was up to a new generation to take up his mantle and fight for a lasting peace...

The fields might be different, and the reasons often vary, but war?

War...never changes.

You were doing so well, but you totally flubbed the last part.

Did I, Libby?

Why does your voice sound so raspy?

I’ll leave that for you to figure out.

Wait, are you…you’re not really going to talk to her while doing a Solid Snake voice, are you?

Sometimes you just have to use what’s on hand. A soldier’s creativity can often be the greatest weapon of all.

No, no, don’t do this! Max! Max, answer me! Max? MAAAAAAAAAX!

I mentally tied a bandana around my head.

“Whether you like me or not doesn’t give you the right to harass me,” I replied to the Knight.

“What? Well, you’re the one who appeared out of nowhere,” she said defensively.

“Appeared out of nowhere?” I sneered. “I was just walking down the path of what I assume is a public road. Or can a noble rich girl like you declare ownership at will? Must be nice being able to do whatever you want thanks to Daddy’s money, huh?”

“Excuse me? You don’t know a damn thing about me!” she protested.

“I know you’re heavy-handed with your authority, and a little too comfortable pointing that sword at a stranger. If I’m missing any other details then fill free to correct me, after you introduce yourself, oh Lady Knight.”

She sheathed her sword and stared at me, both irritated and embarrassed. Tch. She was a typical officer-type, bound by rules of conduct, and unable to adapt beyond the protocol drilled into her skull by teachers who’d likely never been baptized in the hell of war.

Just another good-hearted kid who should have been anything else other than a soldier.

Another life sacrificed for the demon machines of blood and profit.

“My name is Dame Rachel Culner. You address the fifth seat of the Crown’s Blade of the kingdom of Sanctus.”

“Hrrr. The Crown’s Blade? What’s a holy knight, and a sworn defender of that kingdom's royal family doing all the way out here? Why are you herding a bunch of refugees?”

“I’m doing my duty!" Rachel said indignantly. "These people were once proud citizens of the kingdom of Paladia.”

“Paladia?” I said in surprise. I really didn’t know what that was supposed to mean.

“That’s right,” Rachel said glumly. “Once, these people lived in the mightiest kingdom in all the world. Respected for their knowledge and humanitarianism, and feared for their mighty army, and mastery of magic. They were the very center of the Freehold alliance.”

“Yeeeah. They were pretty impressive, once.” I said. The Freehold what?

“Impressive, you say? They were amazing! But then, for reasons no one understands, Paladia was annihilated!

“Annihilated?!”

“As if you’ve never heard of the collapse! Paladia was swept from existence by the elemental spirit of the earth itself! Uncounted thousands were slain outright, and even more were made homeless and destitute. Even Paladia’s ancestral divine weapon, Lightsurge was lost in the chaos when the queen’s castle was destroyed. In the space of one night, the nation that represented the very pinnacle of human achievement, was gone.”

Oh…yikes.

Thanks, Keith. Thanks a lot, you prick.

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t they just rebuild?” I asked.

“Paladia was mighty and ruled by the righteous, stranger,” sighed Rachel. “The truly righteous always have many enemies. Enemies who sprang at the opportunity to avenge themselves on the fallen kingdom. They looted her wonders, stole her repaining wealth, and raped and murdered her helpless citizens.

"Parasites," I cursed.

"Even worse, Paladia’s once stalwart allies claim that its fall was due to hubris. Now to prove their faith, many rogue members of the temple faithful attack these poor people, believing themselves to be doing the work of the gods. It is…reprehensible.”

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“Paladia and Sanctus were tight, weren’t they?” I guessed.

“Our king, and their last queen were close cousins who loved each other like siblings. To honor her, Sanctus has opened its borders to all surviving Pal-dians, of which there are very few. It was a controversial decision that was unpopular with our citizens, but it was the right thing to do! I’m here to protect this final caravan and see them safely delivered to their new home.”

“Ah,” I said. “So that’s why you were so suspicious of me. You’ve seen a good deal of action on this job, haven’t you?”

“I have,” Rachel said wearily. “Monsters and abominations of all sorts. But the worst and most disheartening have been the human zealots. Faith-maddened marauders who see the annihilation of these people as a holy duty. Despite the losses I’ve inflicted on them, they’ve pursued us relentlessly. I just need two more days to get these people to their ship! But that’s two days that these maniacs have sworn to deny me.”

“Sounds like you need some help,” I said.

“I do, but…I mean not to offend you, stranger—

“Max.”

“…Max,” she continued. “But you stand at the fifth rank. There is very little you’ll be able to do against enemies of the caliber I face.”

“I might surprise you. The mind is infinitely stronger than the body,” I said confidently.

“You’re experienced?”

“I’ve fought in my fair share of regional conflicts. Once or twice for the same side, even.”

“A mercenary, are you? Tch! Just like my father!” She said that last part with genuine anger.

“A man has to eat, doesn’t he?”

(Sidenote: I am enjoying the heck out of this! I don’t often get a chance to LARP with my Snake impression. It’s Hayter by the way, not Sutherland! I’m an axe who bows to the master!)

“Well, he didn't have to abandon his honor either!" Rsachel snapped before stopping herself. "…No. No, I apologize, Max. My conflicted feelings for my father have nothing to do with you.”

“Take a chance on me, Rachel. Bite the bullet.”

“Bite…the bullet?” she asked. “I don’t understand what that means.”

“It’s an old idiom where I come from. It means, things are going to be painful anyway, so you may as well accept that and get things over with. In our situation, that means you shouldn’t be so hesitant to accept my help. I’m offering you my assistance. Take it.”

Rachel looked me over, scrutinizing me carefully. Then she said, “I’ll admit that you do have an aura of capability about yourself. But I just can’t be certain you’ll survive if I let you join us—

“RAIDERS!” screamed a lookout, before blowing a horn. “Raiders coming in fast from the south!”

“Damn it!” Rachel said as she mounted her horse and swiftly drew her blade. She turned to say something but then another horn blew. “Raiders coming in from the north!” screamed a panicked voice.

“These bastards have us pincered! Damn them all. All right, Max, if you’re as good in a fight as you imply you are, this will be your chance to shine—

“CIRCLE UP!” I yelled, pushing my voice out until the entire caravan could hear me .

“CIRCLE THE FUCK UP! Get these wagons in a circular formation RIGHT NOW! Based on their distance, we’ve got five minutes until they’re within our range of engagement. Get these wagons in a closed off circle and get the horses and anyone who can’t fight in its center surrounded by our defenders! We’ll force these cowards to fight us on our own terms!”

“Circling the wagons…” said Rachel thoughtfully. “Oh…oh, I like that! Do as this man says at once! Circle the wagons!" she commanded as she waved her sword.

Honestly, I didn’t know if this would be a practical tactic or not. I just remembered all those old westerns my grandpa used to watch, where caravans would be attacked by native tribes and the leader would always scream “Circle the wagons!”

Apparently, that wasn’t something that was done around here. Until now, that was.

“Have we got any casters available?” I asked.

“Just Earth mages,” Rachel said dismissively. “Nothing useful in a fight.”

“Wrong!”

“What do you mean?”

“People value offensive magic too much. Defense-wise, Earth mages are a nightmare against a ground-based enemy. Have them tear up the land surrounding us, make it as uneven as possible and jot it with potholes—

“Potholes? I’m sorry, what is a pothole?”

“Ankle deep holes in uneven terrain,” I informed her.

“Got it! I see...they’ll come charging in on horseback, or racing to us on foot—”

“And drop right into our nasty little surprises. Have your bowmen save their shots until the enemy starts falling, then pepper them with arrows while they’re helpless!”

“You really have done this before, haven’t you, Max?” Rachel asked with an expression that alternated between being a beaming smile and a malicious grin.

“Just because it has to be done, doesn’t mean that I like it,” I solemnly told her like the reluctant hero of a thousand battles I was pretending to be.

“Ha! Well, I like it just fine, Mercenary!” Rachel looked me over once more, and this time her expression was a lot friendlier. “Let’s talk some more if you survive this,” she said.

“Talk about what, I wonder?” I asked.

She leaned in close and said, “I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

“Too bad. Mine’s pretty inventive,” I said wryly.

“Well, let’s see if we can’t put it to the test, then,” she smirked.

"KILL THE HEATHENS! The GODS DEMAND IT!" screamed some jerk with a wild beard, holding an iron cudgel, before his horse tripped and dismounted him.

Why do people like him aways show up whenever a conversation starts getting interesting?

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