by Tao Wong
“This one sounds interesting,” I say, tapping the quest.
The others crane their heads to look at it, with Mikito raising the obvious question.
“Why hasn’t anyone else taken the job?” Mikito asks, looking directly at Robes.
“If you noticed, the Credits on offer are low. It’s quite possible that the Mortgage has no ore on board, so recovering it might be a significant waste of time. In most cases, a higher recovery fee that includes the cost of the ship would be provided, but, well, it’s the Mortgage,” Robes says.
“No money, lots of reputation?” I say, guessing at what the attendant is hinting at.
At her nod, I can’t help but snort. There’s got to be a story there, but it’s not one I’m inclined to follow. If the Mortgage is just floating around, we can use the Heartbreak to drag it back. And if it’s an engine failure, Mikito and I can test out our damage control Skills.
“All right, we’ll take it. Let’s go visit a ghost ship.”
Chapter 9
“You know, I don’t mind you following us around the station, but our ship?” I say, eyeing the intrusive Dragon Lord. He’s taken over the navigator’s seat in the cockpit, idly eying the controls while Dornalor takes us out of the station. To say that our pilot was surprised to see Bolo in the navigator seat when he got back from running his latest errand might be underplaying it a little.
“You can’t really be much of an obstacle if you aren’t around,” Bolo says.
“Isn’t that job with Oi enough?”
“No,” Bolo says. “The lungfih that Oi replaced brokered my protection as part of my deal. Oi doesn’t have that level of reputation yet. My deal has no additional protection promises. I would not trust a new station master to have the contacts to enforce it anyway.”
Oi was less than happy that we are leaving the station, but since he’s whitelisted me to Portal in if things go badly, he reluctantly agreed to our little jaunt. I’m still wary of the Dragon Lord following us, but outside of physically tossing him out, I’m not sure I can do much but accept it. And keep an eye open for the eventual betrayal.
“I’m curious to see what this ship is about,” Bolo adds.
“That makes one of us,” Dornalor mutters as he eyes the navigation control. While most of the ship’s controls are displayed via the System, the Neural Links, or a HUD, there’s a significant amount of mundane replication too.
I let my head drop back, knocking it against the headrest of my chair. The nanoweave of the seat automatically adjusts, shifting with the added weight to make it feel as though I’m sitting on nothing at all. Quite an amazing piece of luxurious technology. Except, you know, part of the reason it’s so comfortable is because it needs to be when the inertial compensators fail in the middle of a dogfight.
“You’re sure we don’t need to get anything else to drag the ship back?” I say.
“Drag, no. But we really should have bought some disposable drone thrusters for the operation. The stations use the drones all the time to move parts and portions of ships. You’ll get a lot more of a thrust that way, rather than relying on my Skills and the ship alone.”
“If we had the money, I’d do it.”
“You know, I do expect to get paid my usual rate for this,” Dornalor says.
I wave. “You will. My lack of funds is because I’ve budgeted for you.”
“And your fiscal responsibility is deeply appreciated,” Dornalor says. “Though I’d have preferred to have more work done on the ship before we left.”
“It flies, no? All the major repairs are done?” I say.
“Yes, but that’s not the point.”
“And Mikito and Harry are busy fixing up more parts of the ship for free too, no?”
“Slipshod, barely acceptable work,” Dornalor complains. The Pirate Captain taps a few more notifications then unbuckles. “Keep the ship on autopilot, try not to crash us. I’m going to make sure they aren’t cutting into anything important.”
“Oh, come on. They only did it once!”
“In the middle of a fight.”
“We were getting shot at!”
“Exactly!”
I watch Dornalor stomp off, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Funny. I never expected to see a Paladin speaking so friendlily to a Pirate Captain.”
“Or me, a Dragon Lord outside of Xylar,” I say.
Bolo shakes his head, trying to push the conversation away from him. “A human Erethran Paladin seems a lot more interesting to me.”
“You first.”
Bolo shakes his head then grins. He chants, “Story. Story. Story.”
“What are you? Five months old?” I say, frowning.
Bolo grins at me, mouthing the word story once more.
I groan but give in. Considering we’ve got a few hours until we get to the damn ghost ship, telling a little story makes sense. Of course, I have to explain how Dornalor and I met. But that means explaining what we’ve been doing. Which requires me to explain why we’re running assassinations. And that means talking about Irvina and Earth. Eventually, I find myself telling him my story, Earth’s story, in its entirety. Well, in summary in its entirety. Bolo, being who he is, stops on the most ridiculous part.
“You taunted an Ice Dragon?” Bolo says, looking me up and down. “As an Advanced Class?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” Bolo says, shaking his head. “It sounds like it was a juvenile one at most.”
“No way. It was at least over a hundred levels!” I protest.
“Late juvenile. An adult would have just used a spell on you.” He pauses, considering as he rubs his horns. “Unless it was pregnant.”
“Huh?”
“A pregnant dragon can’t use its magic. The birth of a dragon is a very Mana intensive event, requiring the full Mana flow of its parent. Interrupting that flow can result in a lesser child,” Bolo explains. “It’s actually a common tactic on my world.”
“So you guys have a lot of dragons?” I say, cocking my head.
“We are the birthplace of those magnificent creatures,” Bolo says proudly. “Our world is one of the oldest integrated planets that has not become a Forbidden Zone. And that is only because of our dragons.”
I frown, leaning forward and fixing Bolo’s gaze with my own.
“Your turn. Talk.”
For the next hour, I get a lesson in the history—and to some extent, politics—of Xylar and Xylargh, the single unified kingdom that rules over the planet. As one of the oldest planets to have been added to the System, Xylar should have been flooded with Mana, making it a Forbidden World. But during the process of Mana over-saturation, the dragons evolved. Already a sentient race, they became something more powerful under the influence of the System. Their very presence is a Mana sink for the planet, one that has to be carefully managed.
Too many dragons and disaster strikes as a Mana vortex occurs, drawing surrounding Mana into the planet and causing rampant destruction and the breakdown of the System as it is no longer able to sustain itself from the ambient Mana. Too few dragons, and the environmental Mana levels cause uncontrolled growth of monsters, spawning dungeons and alpha monsters before the System fails once again as sentients die off, being unable to draw in and “cleanse” enough Mana. That’s pretty much the story of most Forbidden Zones.
The job of the Dragon Knights is to cull and care for the population of dragons on the planet. Of course, the job is made all the harder when there are few tame dragons. Not only do the Dragon Knights need to fight the many wild dragons that make up their world, they sometimes have to do so without killing them. The fact that dragons are sentient, obstinate, and nearly as aggressive as a System-bred monster does not help. Sometimes I wonder about my own encounter with the creature on Earth. If it was sentient, why’d it chase me that far? Would I have been able to bring it to me by blowing up its hoard? Certainly, their greed and avarice for their hoard is confirmed by Bolo.
&nb
sp; Xylar is fascinating, the world that Bolo grew up in vastly different from my own. It’s a curious mixture of medieval and futuristic, with underground cities to shelter against dragon attacks and a feudal system, backed by Classes while having spaceships and modern conveniences. As we talk, I learn more of the planet and it’s fascinating how the System—or their reliance on the System—has affected their entire planet. Including the way they vote.
“So Xylar voted to open another Dungeon World to teleport some dragons over?” I say, head cocked.
“Yes. And don’t look at me like that. I was long exiled by then,” Bolo says, and I turn down my glare a bit. “We’re constantly in need of ways to control the Mana flow. Killing dragons is no easy task. And a new Dungeon World will add another location which can be flooded with Mana, reducing the increase in Mana density on our planet for at least a century. Adding a few dragons to your world will increase the length of time the Dungeon World will last, which is an overall win for us all. Losing a few dragons now, that’s a small price to pay. Especially since we’re overpopulated at the moment anyway.”
“Huh.”
“What huh?”
“Well, the Erethran Honor Guards are glorified babysitters. And you guys are glorified park rangers.”
“Park rangers?” Bolo looks confused.
I chuckle to myself as I spin the chair around. Of course the man’s smart enough to know I insulted him and his Class, but he’s not sure how. We continue the rest of the trip to the Second Mortgage in frigid silence, allowing me time to review my notifications.
Quest Update: the System
You have gained another clue about the System.
+4238 XP
Another clue. I’ve begun to form my own theory about the System, about its purpose. It’s been pretty clear for a while that the System is using all living things as giant filters for Mana. On the most basic level, our Levels are just an indication of the amount of Mana we can filter. There’s also been clear research that of the amount of Mana we draw in and filter, that runs through our bodies and thus the System, and the amount of Mana that comes out via healing, spells, or is otherwise used to activate Skills is not equal. There’s a loss of Mana somewhere. The amount lost is not equal all the time, though the amount is roughly one percent. Whether that loss is natural or on purpose is up for debate.
Theory—or is that hypothesis?—or not, I’m still missing a lot of information. Even if I assume that the why of the System is to be a filter, to pull unmarked ambient Mana out of the environment, there are still questions. Like how the System works, the underlying structures that make it function. Why it is built to filter Mana at all. And the who of its creator. Or creators. Those, those are the questions that still lie before me. And thus far, everything I’ve learnt has yet to answer any of those questions. Not to my—or the researchers’—satisfaction.
***
“John. Jooooohnnn. Baka…” Mikito’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I blink to see her leaning over the shoulder of my chair and pointing. Before us is the ore ship the Second Mortgage, floating in the deep darkness of space. If not for the enhanced lighting on the screens, the wreck would be almost impossible to see as it lies dormant without a single light. Not even emergency lights illuminate the vehicle.
“Dead as dead can be,” Ali says, phasing half-through me.
I growl, hating when he does that, but Ali ignores me. Harry and Dornalor have made their way back, adding themselves to the now-crowded cockpit. Dornalor’s in his own seat, fingers flicking over unseen controls, making the image of the Mortgage shift and twist as the other spectrums of vision come online.
“What now?” I say, cocking my head.
“We explore, no? We’re not allowed to tow it back without checking out the cause of the ship going dark,” Bolo says, already stretching in his seat and nearly hitting Mikito. The Samurai glares at Bolo, who offers her a wide grin.
“Ah. Right.” I grin. “Right. Off you go, Ali.”
“What? Why me?”
Mikito laughs, clapping. “Perfect. Go!”
“You too?”
“Why not? You can phase right through the damn ship, don’t need to breathe, and there’s no concern about you dying,” I say. “If you get banished, we’ll know there’s a problem.”
Under our “gentle” pressure, Ali flies out of the ship to scout. Of course, I keep an eye on him in my minimap, but as we said, there’s little concern. The worst thing that will happen is he gets banished. And in the meantime, we can start the work of getting the ships hooked up.
“Come on, you layabout. You’re with us,” I say to Bolo.
“I am sitting.”
“That’s not what I meant… just come,” I say.
Mikito, Bolo, and I head to the ship’s airlock and get into our spacesuits. Unlike human versions of the suits, these are much thinner and more flexible. Outside of some oxygen, neither Bolo nor I require the spacesuits to survive. But having your flesh alternately freezing and healing is highly uncomfortable, to say the least.
Once we exit the ship, we make our way to the in-built hardpoints on the Heartbreak to attach towing cables to it. Once done, we orient ourselves and take the leap to the Mortgage. The actual jump, from semi-solid footing on the courier into open space, is a stomach-twisting moment. There’s something terrifying about throwing yourself into the emptiness of space. It catches at your throat and constricts your breathing. Even if it’s for a microsecond, the fear of falling for all eternity grabs at you, bypassing all your mental defenses to send an existential fear deep into your guts.
When I land on the ore ship, magnetic boots engaging and attaching me to the ship, I let out a breath that I never knew I was holding. Beside me, Bolo is grinning widely beneath his custom helmet. Custom work on the helmet helps to show off his horns in stark relief, making him and his armor glitter in the dark void. Mikito is inscrutable as she lands smoothly beside us, barely taking a moment to orient herself before she bounds across the ship, cable in tow and using a grappling gun as an anchor point.
“How are you so good at that?” I send over the comms.
“Bought the skills,” Mikito says. “What? You never wanted to be an astronaut?”
I consider Mikito’s words as I laboriously stump my way up to my designated maintenance hatch. Figuring out how to install the cables on the Mortgage was simple. Most of the best locations are beneath maintenance hatches with big, bright signs doing everything from warning about proper use of the hatches to their contents and how to open the hatches themselves. Galactic OSHA must be working overtime for things to be so well laid out.
“Yeah, but, you know, kid’s dreams,” I finally answer Mikito.
“Seriously?” Mikito says, perhaps recalling my reaction before on the ISS. Then again…
“I must agree with the Redeemer. Why settle for such a shallow dream? Any mildly competent Classer could see the stars,” Bolo says.
“Not exactly the point, DL,” Ali says, voice cracking. Unlike the near perfect translation of our comms, his voice is slightly distorted. Ali’s method of patching into our comms as a Spirit means that there’s the occasional glitch. “In other news, this place is creepy. Thus far, I’ve yet to see a single corpse.”
“Interesting,” I say, frowning at the curved hull of the ship beneath my feet. A scan of the codes on the hatch has me continuing my journey. “Any signs of a struggle?”
“I’d have said so if there was, don’t you think?”
“Snippy, aren’t we?” I reply. Bending, I work on the right maintenance hatch, freeing it from its mounting via the simple expedience of cutting through the locks with my sword. I flip the hatch aside, letting it fall through space, and verify that the bolt we’re looking for is there. A quick hookup and I’m done. “I’m good.”
“Already done.”
“One second. The codes I was given aren’t working. I’m attempting a hack,” Bolo says.
I open
my mouth to complain then shut it. No point in hurrying him. It’s not as if Ali’s finished his survey. Bored, I turn to eye the darkness. In the distance are a few moving asteroids, their size and distance difficult to judge without the usual landmarks to give them scale. In fact, outside of our own ship and the giant floating greenish-white tentacle creature, there’s nothing else out here.
…
“Uhh… guys,” I say slowly, staring at what I can only describe as the floating lovechild of a giant squid and Cthulhu.
I send a few mental commands to my helmet, and in moments, a new video image shows up for everyone. The largest tentacles seem to branch out of its body where arms should be, a layer of wiggling flesh to protect its long, snake-like body. Smaller tentacles, almost like the hairs on a spider’s legs, branch out from its body, twisting and grasping at the void. There’s a long silence as everyone regards the image before it’s broken by exclamations of horror and disgust.
“I think we found our culprit,” I say.
“Thrice-born eggs!” Bolo curses.
“Goblin shit. That’s a space leviathan. A big one too,” Dornalor says.
“How big?” I say.
The Heartbreak is just over twenty meters in length, and that thing dwarfs the ship. But I’m not entirely sure how far away it is. Dornalor, having received our notification, is already boosting away from the ore ship, having used the emergency deconnect for our cables. Dornalor’s putting distance between himself and the giant monster, angling the ship around to point his weapons at it.
Adult Space Leviathan (Level 158)
HP: 128971/128971
MP: 4317/4387
Condition: Hungry, Size: Massive, Two souled, Hardened Scales.
Species Note: Space Leviathans are mutated monsters that have breached their need for a terrestrial upbringing. They live between the stars, sustaining themselves on ambient Mana and the unlucky ships they encounter on their voyages. Able to ascend to lightspeed as well as create gravity wells to pull escaping ships to themselves, they are considered one of System space’s most dangerous hazards. Space leviathans range from 89 meters in size to over a kilometer.
