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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Connor and the Wolves - 23. Harvesting Answers

Connor scooped a glob of wax from a can. Wiping it across the Riverview Meadows sign, he worked over the freshly dried paint. After a week's worth of work, everything was clean, and he couldn’t see any black paint showing through the fresh white. Even the stencilling naming the community was redone — Connor was not taking any chances with Emma. If she thought there was even the chance he hadn’t broken his back working, she’d make him do it all over again. It was that trait that made him believe she and River had truly loved each other at one point.
“You must think you’re clever.”
Biting back a sigh, Connor set the rag aside. He turned to face his mother, trying to hide the annoyance on his face.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know you’ve been coming out here late every evening. Your father keeps calling me. Do you know how annoying that is?” Emma demanded.
Connor shrugged. “I had to get the sign painted before the weekend. If I miss a meet, that’s it. I’m off the team.”
“And you think this is going to make me let you go?”
“You said the sign had to be done by Varyal-”
“On Varyal. It’s Urdyal,” Emma corrected. “You deliberately went around my words.”
Connor pulled out his phone. Flipping through his messages, he stopped on one he’d sent himself.
“‘You better make the most of Urdyal afternoon’.” He looked pointedly at Emma. “As you just said, it is Urdyal afternoon. I’ve spent the week preparing myself to make the most of it.”
He could almost imagine steam billowing from Emma’s ears. It was probably stupid to push her like this, but there was no way Connor was missing the first meet of the season. It wasn’t like Emma would hit him or anything. Grounding him, on the other hand…
Connor pushed the possibility away. If he made his case well enough, she’d back down. If not… well, it would be interesting to see who was scarier, Emma or Alastair. Connor had to give that one to Alastair.
“Look, I cleaned up the sign. I made it look even better before it was tagged,” he said. “I did what you told me to do, and I finished before the deadline. Why are you mad about that? It feels like this was supposed to be some sort of punishment.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Emma snapped. “Just… finish up here and get to bed early. I’m working two shifts tonight. The elves are all up in arms about Miranda.”
Connor turned back to the sign, hiding his smile. He recovered his rag, and continued covering the wood with the wax, making sure his work would last for a while.
“I want you to call me when you get to school tomorrow,” Emma added.
“I will,” Connor promised, glancing back at her. That was strange; it wasn’t like Emma to have him check in. “Is it really that bad?”
“Neko king releases a neko convicted of elven regicide. Saying it’s bad is putting it mildly,” Emma grumbled.
“I’ll have to check in with Jason and Dylan. And SharpCat.”
“You have neko friends?”
“Yeah.” Connor continued working on the sign. “I told you the guild I’m in is full of nekos.”
“Oh right. Your video games. Check in on them. It couldn’t hurt.”
Connor sighed as Emma walked away. Why did she seem surprised he had neko friends? Or was that friends in general? He wasn’t that much of a shut in… right?
He tossed the rag into the can a few minutes later. The sign was more than good enough — if Emma found anything wrong with it, it had to be a set-up at this point. Shut in or not, he had friends. And they were waiting for him.

“Where’s Altanmuur?”
Silence met Connor’s question. Altanmuur was supposed to meet them for Soren’s training. There was safety in numbers, especially during a cutting out party to get harvesters. As things stood, Connor and SharpCat would have to keep a closer eye on their radars to make sure no one tried to steal Soren’s gear, and they had no coordinator to call for guild back-up.
It wasn’t an impossible situation. Just one made more difficult by Altanmuur’s absence.
“He made a guild member feel uncomfortable, so I kicked him out,” SharpCat said diplomatically.
“Mmm. Tough break. Is everyone okay?” Connor tracked a bird with his rifle. He didn’t pull the trigger — there was no sense in alerting anyone to their presence for feathers he didn’t actually need — but he was certain that bird would have been vaporised.
“He’s pissed, but I don’t care,” SharpCat said. “I’ve been trying to get Soren to take on his role.”
“What do you think, Soren? It’s a big job,” Connor pointed out. “You’d have to keep track of every ship channel and be able to report to SharpCat at the same time.”
“I don’t think I can,” Soren said.
His velvet baritone washed over Connor. He must have his pick of women, or men, with a voice like that. If Connor closed his eyes, he could just imagine the speaker, tall, dark, handsome — a total cliche, but it still made his skin crawl in a good way.
“Bless it, NekoWolf, I’ve been trying to coax him into the position,” SharpCat grumbled, interrupting Connor’s thoughts.
“By leaving out the difficulties?” Connor rolled his eyes. If Soren didn’t think he could coordinate in guild raids, then there were plenty of people who could take Altanmuur’s place. “Have you even tried to broach the subject with Elyon or Sethiren? I’m sure either of them would be happy to promote their crew.”
“To be honest, I’ve been trying to keep Altanmuur’s absence quiet, out of respect for our guild mate,” SharpCat said. “I only told you because you’re second in command.”
“I’m honoured, but what are you going to do when people ask? You can’t just tell them to mind their own business — that would be bad for keeping trust, especially after that shit with BlankWolf last week.”
“Comm silence-”
Connor swept his rifle around the woods, tracking his radar. Nearby, he could see Soren chopping wood beside his new harvester — it would take some teaching for the NPC to grasp what was needed from him.
There was nothing on the radar. Connor bit back a curse — if there was a stealthed combatant, they’d hear him over the area chat.
He strained his ears, trying to pick up whatever SharpCat heard. His eyes pierced the gathering gloom as the Aquileni moon rotated into night.
“Hey NekoWolf, don’t you have a race in the morning?” SharpCat asked loudly.
It was nice of her to remember, but it was barely seven. Connor had plenty of time to- oh…
“Oh yeah,” Connor said, playing along. “Will you two be okay on your own?”
He climbed a tree, making sure he stayed in one spot on the radar. Standard procedure — find a nice hiding spot so when you log back in, you could make sure you weren’t being ambushed. Checking his inventory, he found a stealth potion, enough for five minutes. As long as eyes weren’t on him, this would work.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” SharpCat said. “Good night.”
“Night.”
Flipping his mic up, Connor hit the stealth potion. His character faded, leaving just enough for him to see himself and Sara. He hunkered down in the tree, watching the radar as he waited for their stalker to make their move.
“Where did NekoWolf go?” Soren asked.
“He has a race tomorrow,” SharpCat replied.
“We do too. Should we log off now?”
Since when had SharpCat gotten into running? Did Soren talk her into it? Connor mulled that information over as he continued watching his radar. Maybe they’d meet in Mydara.
A flash of motion made him turn. Connor was halfway through his builders before his rifle was on target. Squeezing his trigger, he shot a burning bullet at the neko who was raising their own weapon.
“Where the-?”
Flames engulfed the stranger, providing a bright target for SharpCat. Turning his attention to Soren, Connor tossed a grenade at his feet. Electricity ran up Soren’s legs, giving him a resistance to elemental attacks.
By the time Connor turned back to their assailant, SharpCat had already tossed several debuffs on the neko. Neither of them were specced for proper damage, but Connor knew that wasn’t much of a problem here. They just had to convince their assailant that it wasn’t worth their time to go after Soren.
“Soren, go through the ship channels and see if anyone is free,” Connor said, flipping his mic down.
“I can fight-”
“No, your job is to finish training your harvester. Call in reinforcements and stay low.” Connor dropped from his tree, tossing another grenade at SharpCat. “Don’t worry, you’ll be in the thick of things soon. But it’s easier if you’re set up before then.”
He sent Sara to harass their enemy, keeping an eye on SharpCat. She seemed to have the same idea — her drone was already circling the other neko, waiting for an opening.
It was too much for the neko. Connor grinned as they spun and ran. Calling Sara back to him, he rejoined SharpCat and Soren.
“Cancel the reinforcements.” He smirked. “They came to club baby wolves, not fight.”
“Camping?” Soren asked.
“Not exactly,” SharpCat chuckled. “It’s in the same vein though. Ganking, going after new players or players who aren’t up to player versus player. It’s often used for players who attack truckers or harvesters in SoA.”
“I haven’t been trucking in ages,” Connor added. “I really should get back to it.”
Memories of hours spent braving the rings of Aquilen ran through his mind. The rocks that made up the rings changed constantly, but there were several keystones that pilots could navigate by. Connor could still picture the lines he ran, dodging enemy players and NPCs alike.
“Some people say trucking is boring. If you do it right, I suppose it is.” He shrugged. “But there’s something about getting a little two-tonne tug and working your way up to a thousand-tonne hauler.”
“How big is this game?” Soren asked.
“Big,” SharpCat and Connor said together.
“It takes about four hours to get from Aquilen Starport to Astara Station,” SharpCat added. “That is, if you can get to Astara without running into a ganker. It’s not advisable — Astara is a tourist trap for newer players, and veterans like to take advantage of that.”
“If you want to get into trucking, try running stone from Mathis to Aquilen Station,” Connor said. “That’s a low reward route, so most players stay away. It should be safe for dipping your toes. We just need to get you your own tug first.”
“Or you can take jobs as security on a hauler,” SharpCat suggested. “People don’t like destroying ships in this game, so a lot of combat is done aboard ships.”
“But we destroyed a lot of ships last week.” Soren’s doubt was easy to read.
“The Mydaran Miners had it coming. They bully smaller guilds into paying protection money to play in safety.” Connor explained. “I doubt there’s anyone besides the guild itself who would begrudge us the damage we caused.”
“Are you almost finished?” SharpCat asked.
“Um… I don’t know,” Soren muttered. “How do I know if I’m done?”
“There should be a blue bar under the harvester’s name. Once the blue reaches the right end, the harvester will be trained to tier one harvesting proficiency,” Connor said. “It’s best to get them to mastery, which is a yellow bar. But that’s going to take another thirty minutes of guarding them.”
“Oh.” There was a moment of silence. “Is that okay?”
“Eh-”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Connor said over SharpCat’s noncommittal grunt. “I can keep the players off your back. There’ll probably be another two NPCs who come after you though.”
“I think I can handle those.”
“Sharp, why don’t you go scout our next raid?” Connor added. “I can guard Soren just fine on my own.”
“Okay. If you need me, I’ll be on Firefox.”
“Firefox?” Soren echoed as SharpCat vanished.
“Guild flagship,” Connor said. “So, now that I have you by yourself, what’s your story?”
Silence.
“Don’t get all shy on me now.”
“I don’t have a story…” Soren muttered.
“Sure you do. How’d you meet SharpCat?”
“She picked me up while I was running to school.”
“Oh, so you’re the one who got her into running?”
“No, she told me she was trying out for the track team after school. I stayed to make sure she got home after, and she invited me to eat dinner with her family.”
Connor could hear SharpCat’s voice in the distant background, confirming his suspicions that the two were playing together again.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind telling him,” Soren added a moment later.
“I thought SharpCat said you two weren’t dating,” Connor said.
Soren went silent again.
“We aren’t,” he said finally, almost uncertainly. “She didn’t tell you that?”
“She did, but I wanted to hear your side, because it’s very suspicious,” Connor said. “I don’t think I’ve heard you playing on your own, so either you’re overly shy, or you’re just playing to make SharpCat happy.”
This time the silence stretched. It reached its claws into the game, almost covering the ambient noises of alien birds and an axe steadily chopping away.
“So if you two aren’t dating, you, at least, want to,” Connor concluded, trying to hold back a bit of smugness. And a hint of sorrow — what would it have been like to be held in the arms of his imagined Soren? He shook the thought away quickly, not one to imagine strangers in bed. “It’s okay, your secret is safe with me,” he added with a small smirk. “Unless, of course, a certain someone happens to be eavesdropping, but SharpCat wouldn’t risk having her account deactivated for that, right?”
“You…” He heard Soren swallow. “You’re rather perceptive.”
“I was raised in the Wolf Patrol. Observation was drilled into me the moment I understood the world around me.”
“You do know Kur- SharpCat is a werewolf, right?”
And Soren wasn’t, judging by his exclusion. Did that mean he might be racing against Connor tomorrow? Or did he do distance events? Was he even on the team, or was he just morale support?
“Of course I know that. It’s not like the Wolf Patrol is anti-werewolf,” Connor said, brushing off Soren’s unvoiced concern. “And we aren’t called Neko Pack for nothing — most of our players are or play werewolves. It’s why Sharp and I dig through hate mail at least once a week. There’s a channel on PackTalk if you want to see the best messages we’ve seen.”
“I’ll pass.”
A crack broke through their conversation.
Connor was instantly on the defensive, dropping a grenade at his feet with a trio of button presses. He looked at the radar as he ducked behind a tree. No red dot — there was a sniper somewhere.
“Soren, stay low. Call Firefox. We have a sniper stealthed,” he said, switching Sara to scouting.
The drone was not set up for scouting, but that didn’t matter. All she needed to do was find the person shooting at them. Connor spared a brief glance at Soren, making sure he was hidden.
“It’s a player; the harvester will be safe. Focus on buffing yourself and getting SharpCat back ASAP,” he added, turning his attention back to Sara.
A stack of potions and buffs restored the health he’d lost from the sniper. Connor slipped into a tanking rotation, focusing on his own health. He was more dangerous than Soren. Anyone looking at Soren would figure that out easily. If they killed Soren, it would reveal their location and Connor would end them. So they’d focus on Connor as the bigger threat.
“This is going to be tough.” Connor cringed as his finger skipped a button — there went his rotation. “I’m a bit rusty.”
Another crack, and his health dropped to twenty percent. He worked frantically, throwing a health pot on while rebuilding his armour. Rotating around the tree, he tried another angle.
“NekoWolf says it’s a sniper. We’re still in… uh… Bloodlake Copse?” Soren said nearby. “The harvester still has three quarters left to go.”
One three drop… one three one drop… Connor took a deep breath, reminding himself to slow down. He had half a second between presses — if he pressed too fast, the combo wouldn’t register.
Crack!
His health hovered around twenty-five percent. Better, but he needed to stack his armour more. Having to heal was taking precious seconds he didn’t have.
Ducking around the tree again, Connor ran through his rotation once more. He gulped down a health potion, then continued the rotation.
“NekoWolf! Fire-”
Two three two drop. Connor got the combo off just before an explosion rocked the forest. Flames covered the world around them, burning trees and the sniper hidden within the woods.
Connor chanced a glance toward Soren. The harvester was still standing… and there was Soren, a bit singed, but alive.
“Good call.” Connor grinned. “We have a minute before SharpCat’s timer expires on the loot, then you’re free to grab it.”
“Shouldn’t it go to K- SharpCat?” Soren asked.
“Yeah, but I don’t think she can get down here in the next minute, and once the timer’s gone, it’s fair game.” Connor scanned the burning woods around them. “And I’m almost certain Sharp took out the poacher NPCs too, so we’re good here unless that guy comes back for his gear. Which I doubt will happen, once they realise we were bombed from orbit.”
“How did the fire not kill the harvester?” Soren asked, heading over to where Sara was pawing at a body.
“Friendly fire.” Connor shrugged. “You’re in the same guild, and the harvester is already yours, just levelling up. So the bombardment from the guild flagship wouldn’t do anything. Wouldn’t have done anything to us either, but that was still a good call for me to shield.”
His phone beeped nearby, and Connor reached over to shut off the alarm.
“And that’s my cue to pack it up for the night.” He directed his character back up a tree. “You good for the night? We can meet up tomorrow afternoon and hunt down a tug for you if you’re interested in trading.”
“I’m going to be busy tomorrow-” Soren cut off. A moment passed, and then he hesitantly added, “Um… sure. I’ll make sure I’m on around… six… at night.”
“Blink once if Sharp’s holding you against your will.”
“What?”
Connor snorted. “Nevermind. I’ll make sure you get a nice start with trading. Honestly, it can be fun to just chill and listen to the sounds of your ship coasting through the rings. But I really do need to go.”
“Yeah. Uh… good night.”
“Night.”
Connor left the channel and logged off the game. Closing his laptop, he stretched and glanced at the time. Another couple of hours before bed, but it was time to start his prerace routine. Starting with a good meal and a soothing shower to calm his nerves.

Copyright © 2023 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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