by Nick Cole
Even though WonderSoft is firing on the hangar, I’m able to stand back and use my tactical monocular to scan parts of the complex. If I happen to land on the King of the Hill entrance, I should get an intel analysis timer. But it doesn’t happen.
I need my first streak reward.
Baaanngg! Suddenly my screen turns a blinding white as ambient sound dissolves in a high-pitched whine.
Someone’s just flash-banged us.
My first thought is that WonderSoft is trying to take the hangar.
Seconds later my screen shows me shifting, distorted double images of my surroundings. Someone fires wildly as tracers blur across my vision. I hit Z and throw my avatar to the floor of the hangar, watching my screen throw wild ghost images everywhere.
“Boycott TarMart because of their racialist policies!” screams someone on my team. When my on-screen vision returns, I can see that the someone is SGTSmokeLoveWeed, and he’s preparing to pop another flash-bang and blind us all. I set my three-pronged aiming reticle over his chest and ventilate him with a short burst from my M4X. His avatar’s body sprays blood spatter across the wall of the hangar, ragdolling from each impact, jerking in time to some grotesquely hip dance. He’s dead and out of the game before he even hits the wall.
Great!
Third Squad was useless to begin with, and now I get a bonus round of “let’s take this very public opportunity to make a personal statement at the expense of my online job.”
Don’t people ever get tired of protesting? Not everything’s a March on Selma moment.
AwesomeSauce is hit, but she’s not dead.
“What’re we gonna do, Question?” she asks me over the chat.
Yeah, I ask myself. What are we gonna do?
One of Second Squad took a Medic perk and he’s throwing out medical packs emblazoned with the red-and-white ColaCorp logo. In the dim little hangar, AwesomeSauce’s health starts to return.
Surprise, surprise, terminating SGT-whatever has rewarded me with the kill I need to start my first streak reward. The refs were on that one. Good call.
Now I have access to extra equipment, supplies, air strikes, and a whole host of options depending on which streaks I’ve selected to unlock each time I reach a kill tier.
I activate my first streak. A moment later the gritty voice of the unseen game announcer calls out, “Drone Recon, inbound.”
I scan the overcast skies and see the shadowy outline of the spindly recon drone circling the complex. I check my CommandPad.
Recon Drone Intel package available.
I click on it.
Two reports.
I can see everyone on the battlefield. WonderSoft is concentrated around a small area west of our position on the street. The main building separates us. They’re moving toward it. The rest of the Softies are on the buildings all around us. I distribute the report to my squads, and seconds later I hear our two snipers begin to fire from the distant construction crane. I watch as a Softie blinks out of play on my CommandPad.
The other report reveals the entire tactical map, where the King of the Hill zones are and also other possible intel locations. I spot a King of the Hill zone at an entrance to the main building just ahead of us, a loading dock. But there’s another entrance on the other side of the facility right where that smaller group of Softies is heading. Back near the landing pad there’s another small secondary intel site, simply titled Sulaco Uplink.
I don’t have time for that. We’ve either got to crack that King of the Hill zone at the end of the street or somehow stop WonderSoft from starting the clock on theirs.
“Listen up, Fourth . . . I need you to double-time it to the location I’m marking on your HUDs now. That’s the King of the Hill zone WonderSoft’s gonna try and use. I need you to stage here.” I draw a red circle behind some smaller buildings near the WonderSoft door. “Fifth, I need you to move to this location and put some fire onto that target. Once you’re in position, open up on ’em. Fourth, as soon as Fifth Squad works the target over, move in and finish off any survivors. You shouldn’t have much resistance between here and there, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a Softie out there running Stealth perks, so watch the shadows.”
“Question.” It’s AwesomeSauce. “We can’t take that zone at the loading dock with just what’s left of First and Second.”
“Have to,” I reply.
I watch the map as both the fourth and fifth squads move out to intercept WonderSoft. In five minutes it should all go down.
“All right, First, we’re gonna need you to keep all the Softies heads down for a minute. We’re moving all the way up the street to the loading dock. Once we get there, we’ll hack it and start the zone. Try and keep them off us.”
“Roger that, Question,” says a guy named BubbasChoice.
“Well, AwesomeSauce, we’ve gotta take the hill, that’s the name of the game. You with me?”
“I’ll go first.” Her tone is bored. Flat. Condemning.
“Anyone got a streak goin’ yet?” I ask over BattleChat.
“I got Death from Above,” says one of the snipers. “Three kills already.”
And you haven’t activated it yet, I’m thinking. “Could you go ahead and use it?” I ask him.
“Sure ’nuff.”
A moment later I hear a low-flying aircraft high above the battlefield.
“Air strike, inbound,” warns the game announcer.
“We need to hit the entrance now,” I shout over BattleChat. “Go! Go! Go! Everyone take the hill. Snipers, do what you can to give us some cover.”
I rush out into the street, beating AwesomeSauce. Hoping at least one person will follow me, I head toward an abandoned cargo truck canted in the middle of the muddy street, firing short bursts at where I think WonderSoft might be. I reach the truck and pin my avatar against the side. Bullets are flying everywhere, smacking into the side of the truck on galvanized, crushed soda can notes. I can hear the loud, distant cracks of our snipers’ rifles. I lean out from one side of the truck and watch as most of Second Squad rushes up the muddy street around me, heading for the loading dock. Three of them get hit instantly. I draw a bead on one of the WonderSoft shooters and double-tap him in the chest.
I need four more kills for my next streak.
What’s left of Second is with me on the truck.
“Keep firing, First, until we reach the door,” I call out over the chat.
“Hey, Question, truck’s on fire,” notes AwesomeSauce.
She’s right. In seconds it’ll explode.
“Get away!”
Everyone sprints toward the loading dock.
The truck explodes behind us.
Casualties.
Above us, a small close-air-support aircraft is making missile strikes on the Softies near us—Death from Above. One rocket goes straight down into a building ahead of us, and a second later the entire building explodes, sending a shock wave of debris and flame out at us. My avatar is knocked back and onto the muddy street. I take 50 percent health damage.
I’m up and moving just steps away from the shadows of the loading dock. I make it to the loading dock. A small sign near the security door welcomes everyone to Hadley’s Hope.
First Squad is firing from behind a concrete wall down the street.
I hack the lock, watching as my avatar inserts his high-tech hacking tool into the computer lock and starts the operation. Fifteen seconds later, the game announces, “King of the Hill starts now.”
The clock starts, and we’ve got three minutes to go.
“Enemy Drive-by, inbound!” yells the in-game streaks’ menacing announcer.
“Take cover!” I call out needlessly.
Down the street, a low-riding flat windowless APC with thick ceramic tires and a small swivel-mounted Hauser minigun turret races toward us.
I’ve never seen an APC like that on a streak.
I briefly wonder if it’s some kind of new WonderSoft vehicle, just as I hear B
luuuuuurrrr; it’s the gun erupting in a loud, high-pitched sound as it sends hundreds of miniballs ripping into what remains of Second Squad—except for me, AwesomeSauce, and another guy. And seconds later, that guy’s heavy machine gun–wielding avatar disappears in a shimmering haze of lead as his body receives hundreds of hits almost instantly. AwesomeSauce switches out her HK Mini for the RPG on her back. She fires fast and skips the RPG off the muddy road with a small splash and right into the undercarriage of the APC. It explodes upward and lands on its side with a metal-rending crash as it begins to burn.
“That worked” she yells over BattleChat as if I need to be told.
The King of the Hill clock is already up thirty seconds. Two and half minutes to go.
For the next two minutes it’s a shooting gallery and we’re the ducks. WonderSoft’s elite unit keeps us pinned down behind the narrow confines of the loading dock, making sure they keep up the fire while they reload. We take sporadic shots and I get two of them.
I need one more kill to activate my next streak.
I check the CommandPad and see that Fourth Squad is engaging the WonderSoft unit on the other side of the facility. WonderSoft has started the clock on their King of the Hill zone. For some reason, Fifth never ended up where I told them to and they’re moving in way too soon and too close on WonderSoft.
“Enemy Gunship, inbound,” warns the game announcer.
If they drop it in on us, we’re finished. I hear the approaching engines of the gunship. It’s an HK. A hunter-killer. It streaks over the darkened sky and begins to hover above WonderSoft’s zone. Its auto cannons roar to life and I watch on the CommandPad as both fourth and fifth squads are wiped out.
One minute.
I spot a distant Softie shifting position and drop my sights over him, squeezing off a quick burst. I hit him, and he keeps running. I track a second longer, lead him, then fire again. This time he goes down, and I’ve got my last kill.
And my next streak reward.
I call in an Auto Gun Drop and just after the game announcer says, “Auto Gun package, inbound,” a dropship streaks underneath the gray canopy of the storm and drops a parachute containing the Auto Gun package off its back cargo deck. It lands near the beacon I’ve tossed onto the floor of the loading dock. I only have to crawl out onto the platform a little way to unlock and activate the package. Once I do, I watch as the sides of the crate flop down and the gun unpacks itself. Within seconds, its targeting lasers activate, cutting through the gun smoke and gloom as it begins spitting out short staccato bursts of hot lead at any WonderSofties within range. I get six more kills in the space of a minute.
“Thirty seconds!” calls out AwesomeSauce over the chat.
I’m down to nine players from both surviving squads, including the two snipers at the far end of the complex.
WonderSoft cracks their zone and advances to the second map just after our timer hits zero.
We get the King of the Hill bonus as the loading dock’s main door slides open, revealing a shadowy, wide, low-ceilinged hallway where overhead lights flicker on and off at random intervals.
“RangerSix, this is PerfectQuestion,” I say as I call in our status to Command.
“Six here; go ahead.”
“Command, we need reinforcements. I’m down to nine total, including myself.”
“I know, I’ve been watching the network feed, son. Heckuva a job. Bad break on Third Squad, though . . . but I was hoping you’d get the main door open, at low cost, and you did. I’m authorizing you one of our fan SF units. I think they’ll do the job considering where you’re at.”
Where I’m at?
“Where am I at, exactly?”
Long pause. Hairs rising on the back of my neck.
“You didn’t read that sign at the front gate, the one that said property of Weyland-Yutani Corporation?”
“Saw it. Didn’t mean anything.”
“And the big identifier on the face of the main building,” continues RangerSix. “LV-426. C’mon, Question, you’ve never seen the greatest sci-fi combat film ever made? Aliens.”
I pause. On-screen my avatar crouches on the platform as the eight other surviving players reload their weapons. My avatar is holding one hand to his headset, indicating I’m in communication with another element. Over ambient sound I hear the high-pitched whine of an Albatross’s engines powering into its braking hover. I turn. The Albatross rotates above the street. In front of the loading dock. it hovers above the mud.
“Everybody wants to play Space Marine, Question, but this is where it all started . . . Colonial Marines,” says RangerSix over the chat with a wheezy laugh.
Some fan units go beyond just training together like old gaming clans hoping to get picked up for a network battle. Some take the next step and modify their avatars to effect a cosplay element. I guess these were that sort. I’ve even heard of fan units who go on vacation together and try to live like their characters in real life. That’s a little much for me.
Colonial Marines.
Their armor and camo is similar to ours with only slightly different touches. It reminds me of images I’d looked at of soldiers from the Vietnam War. But spacier. They have helmet-mounted small lights attached. I can’t see how that will be any use in online combat. The trick is to not attract attention to yourself so you can shoot first. Headlights seem to be the opposite of that.
“Are these guys somehow . . . relevant to this map?” I ask RangerSix.
He laughs briefly. “Yeah, they’re real relevant, Perfect. Listen, this is how I see it. I just did a little checking. This is some sort of advertising stunt for the network. The map, that is. I just talked to a guy over at programming who told me they’re debuting a trailer for the Aliens reboot after the match tonight. Really, you never saw Aliens?”
“No, never. Is it good?”
He laughs again.
“You need to watch it, son. Listen up, this map will somehow relate to the movie. Whether it’s original source material or something from the reboot, I don’t know. But the bioweapon you’re looking for is most likely an alien. So watch out, there might be a whole lot of them inside the main building. If there are . . . well, your team’s in big trouble.”
“An alien?”
“Roger that, Perfect. An alien. If, and I’m just guessing here, we can get that tech unlock, if we can get the alien as a combat unit or something, that could be a game changer for us. So, if you can get it, get it. If you can’t, make sure WonderSoft doesn’t. The last thing we need right now is a bunch of those crazy things running around my battlefield, playing for the wrong team.”
“One question, Six? What does this alien look like?”
Again he laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard him laugh once. Or express emotion. Anything. “I really can’t believe it, Question,” says RangerSix, still laughing. “Look like? It looks like a cross between a gorilla and a shark and a scorpion. You’ll know it when you see it, son. Six out.”
Two new squads of Colonial Marines come up the loading dock ramp.
“What’s the mission, sir?” asks a player tagged MarineSgtApone.
“We’ve cleared the first map. King of the Hill,” I tell him. “Now we enter the second map. No idea what match it might be, but we’re all about to find out. This is a superlab op, so the endgame is to retrieve the tech and get out. You guys down?”
“Straight up, Question,” says MarineSgtApone, a black burly commando-type avatar chewing a short stubby cigar.
“Listen up, Marines,” he says over BattleChat. “We got to go in and clear us some Softies out. So you know the drill; watch the corners and clear the shadows. We’ve done this on our own mods. WarWorld’s level design might be a little different, maybe even a lot different probably, and the AI on the aliens is most likely gonna be insane, can’t tell. But in the end they’re just big bad bugs, and we’re probably the best suited for this one ’cause we be the bug stompers. Who’d a thought?”
; Everyone cheers. This must be like the Super Bowl for them.
“All right, let’s squad up and move in,” I announce over the chat. At the lead of First Squad, I head into the alien-infested remains of a place called Hadley’s Hope. LV-426.
Chapter 5
So, Apone,” I whisper over the chat as we proceed slowly down the dimly lit passageway leading into the belly of the main building, “what exactly are these aliens?”
There’s a pause. Wait for it, I tell myself.
“Never seen the movie, sir?”
“Aliens?”
“Yeah. Never seen it?”
“No. So go ahead and tell me what we’re walking into.”
Pause.
“Well, sir . . . I don’t know. Uh . . . Never know with the WarWorld programmers. Somethin’ trickylike no doubt. But uh . . . basically an alien is like a tiger that’s been crossed with a spider and a T. rex.”
“Huh . . .” I think about that. “Not a gorilla, shark, scorpion?”
Pause.
“Yeah,” says Apone. “Those too.”
“They don’t have weapons? Guns or explosives or laser beams or anything like that?”
“Uh . . . no. They are the weapon, sir.”
“I don’t understand . . .”
“You should just watch the movie, sir.”
“It’s a little late for that.”
We arrive at a massive security door. The numbers 01 are stamped in a large space-age font across the door’s surface.
“We open that door, sir,” whispers Apone over the chat, “be ready ’cause I got a feelin’ it’s on real properlike.”
“I read you five by five on that, Sergeant,” says one of the other marines.
Everyone takes up a position across the wide hallway. The overhead lights flicker intermittently and without pattern as gun-toting avatars cling to the sides of the hall, kneel, or lie on their bellies. Two heavy gunners take up the center position; one is a big male avatar, the other a short, curvy, tough-looking Hispanic chick. Apone advances to the door controls.
