by Noah Barnett
Charlie stepped forward and peered into the bath, which was currently empty, save the blue-green amniotic soup. The technician sat lazily on the stool next to the vat, a white lab coat over his gray uniform. He was slightly shorter than Charlie, with a wiry build, black hair, and impenetrable dark eyes. He made a few last minute notes before turning to Charlie.
"Please place palm on tablet," he said, holding out the device. Charlie did so and was presented with his stats one more time. The doctor turned the tablet around and began scrolling down with a thick stylus.
"Two dropship captures, very good. Pacific Coast only ones to match us."
"You mean China?"
"Yes. We one united world now, but China still has some national pride," the man said, smiling toothily.
"We had a tough time of it," Charlie admitted - which was a serious understatement. They'd only just barely managed to capture the second vessel in a last minute gamble. China had been the first to attack the Roth, while the West Coast had been the last.
Instead of mentioning that, he said, "It was nice to see everyone working together."
The shorter man nodded in agreement. As they waited, a small cylinder slid into the clone bath. A tiny embryonic child floated free of the glass and began to grow. Arms and legs sprouted as the head increased in size, then wires snaked from the sidewall of the bath, attaching themselves to the child's temples. Her delicate fingers began to twitch as the eyes shifted back and forth under closed lids. Blond hair the color of rich honey began to grow along the girl's scalp, and within thirty seconds she had entered her early teens. Breasts blossomed into heavy, melon-sized gumdrops as her hips widened into adulthood. By the fifty second mark her feminine curves had become thick and voluptuous.
The tablet chirped, and the doctor tapped it a few times with the stylus. He stood, flicking the end as it began to pulse rhythmically with bright colored light. The man bent and opened one of Elva’s eyelids, shining the penlight into her pupil.
"Please enter debug mode, authorization nine-two-five-one-zero," the doctor said, enunciating each number carefully.
The woman's brilliant blue eyes snapped open, staring up at the ceiling. "Debug mode active," she said, her voice devoid of emotion.
"What is your ID?"
"CA0002930," she replied.
"What is your object ID?"
There was a slightly longer pause before she said, "I have no object ID."
The man tapped his tablet.
"Very good, what is your name?"
"My name is Elva."
"Good name, very pretty. Please list objectives in order of importance."
"My primary objective is survival. My second objective is to be useful to Charlie. My third objective is to be of use to the faction. My fourth objective is to eat delicious food. My fifth objective is to have lots and lots of sex."
"Stop. Good, we almost done with tests. You see man next to me?"
Elva's eyes finally shifted and looked up at Charlie’s face, then blinked once.
"Yes."
"If you recognize, what is name of man?"
"It's Charlie," she replied.
"Slap Charlie, please," the doctor ordered, and Elva did so without hesitation. Her slimy palm smacked him across the face, knocking Charlie off the stool.
"What was that for?" Charlie asked in annoyance. There was a slight tingle on his cheek, and he rubbed the green slime from his face. In Gun Meister that blow would have killed him, but now, thankfully, she had only human strength.
"To see if new violence pathways work. Everything fine, she not remember in debug mode." The doctor flicked the pen back on and shone the pulsing light into her eyes once more.
"Exit debug mode."
Life entered Elva's radiant blue eyes. She blinked a few times, then sat up in the vat and wiped the green slime from her face. For a few seconds, she stared into space as her memories caught up.
"Elva?"
Elva's eyes lit up a second time, and she turned upon hearing her name. "Charlie!" she called huskily, throwing her arms around his neck. Green slime squished between them and he barely managed to keep his balance as Elva nearly pulled him into the clone vat. Her warm skin pressed against his flight suit as he gathered her into his arms, pulling her from the vat. She was slick still and he only just managed to keep a hold of her.
"Showers are in back." The doctor pointed with his stylus. "I help next person in line," he called. As Charlie moved away, another Asian player approached the vat, beginning a quick conversation in Chinese with the doctor.
Elva in his arms, Charlie moved into the next room, which was another shower and locker room, the floor covered in white and black tiles. Clouds of steam and female giggles floated across the air like cotton candy perfume and rows of private shower stalls lined one wall. He stepped towards an empty one.
"I feel weird—like I’m hollow and unchained at the same time," Elva said, her brow furrowing.
"You’re no longer just a weapon. In Gun Meister you wore a registration collar, which was a symbol of your attachment to me, but now you’re a citizen of the game in your own right."
"Things feel different, and I'm not sure what I should be doing. I want you to be happy. I’m no longer your weapon, so how can I be useful to you?"
Charlie stepped into the stall and elbowed the button. Hot water sluiced over both of them and he let go of Elva's legs, though she refused to release his neck. Her blue eyes searched his face, looking for answers.
"You’re here with me, and I'm happy about that. As far as being useful? Welcome to the human race. Most of us live in that state of uncertainty."
"There’s so much more I can do now, and it's so confusing," she agreed, hugging him even more tightly.
Her eyes danced, and she released him, ducking under the shower spray. Blue-green slime dripped from her skin and down the oversized drains. He didn't mind watching her, especially as she drew the bar of soap across her buoyant chest. Her breasts did exciting things in the low gravity, but unfortunately the skintight flight suit was starting to cut off his circulation. Plus, more people were coming into the room and the stalls weren't exactly private. It would be best to exit the shower before things got any more heated.
Charlie hastily washed off the viscous slime while Elva fought with the shampoo bottle. The synthetic flight suit dried quickly once he stepped out of the shower.
He waited for Elva to finish, and after a few minutes she shut off the water and stepped out. She walked to a bank of lockers, placing her hand on one. Her ID registered and the locker opened, revealing a gray and white flight suit. Elva paused before touching the one-piece garment and glanced over at Charlie. Until now, everything had been provided by him, but this would be the very first thing Elva had rightfully owned.
"...What?" Charlie finally asked.
Elva shook her head several times like she was trying to gather her thoughts, but remained silent. Finally, she unzipped the garment and sat down to put it on. Charlie glanced away as she slid her long legs into the flight suit, wiggled her hips into the pants and finally slipped her hands into the gloved sleeves.
"Charlie..." she cooed, stepping toward him. Her bare chest was still visible and she leaned into him. "Be a gentleman and zip me up?"
Charlie glanced around in a quick check to see if anyone was watching, then reached down, drawing the zipper slowly up her stomach. It struggled over the mountainous swell of her chest and slid smoothly up to the high-necked collar.
Elva pecked him on the cheek and danced past him towards the door. Charlie followed, once he’d taken a few seconds to adjust the bulge in his flight suit.
CHAPTER TWO
Ship Intro
Monty and Grace were waiting outside the locker room. The digital ghost was pacing back and forth while Grace leaned against the wall, cheeks red and both arms crossed protectively over her bosom. The former weapon was still not happy about being forced to wear the skintight flight suit, but she had at
least taken the time to pin her hair into her customary complex coif.
"Grace!" Elva cried excitedly, dodging several players to crash into the other woman.
"By the stars, it's nice to see a friendly face," Grace smiled, returning the hug. "Can you believe the things they are making us wear?" she asked in a conspiratorial whisper. Charlie approached and stood next to Monty as Elva greeted one of her few friends to transfer over.
"They are a bit much. I mean, owning a flight suit is nice, but I liked having variety. I'm going to miss my clothes," Elva admitted.
"I agree. I am positively apoplectic when I think of all my dresses back on Earth."
"Darling, once the game goes live, you'll be able to buy your own clothes. You don't need me for cash-cards anymore," Monty smiled indulgently.
"How strange fate is," Grace murmured, resting her head against his shoulder. "You finally come back, just when I no longer need you."
Monty laughed, wrapped an arm around her waist, and turned to Charlie. "I saw Jennifer get into the transfer line about twenty minutes ago. We will all be together quite soon."
"That's good to hear."
Reunited in friendship, Elva and Grace continued to whisper together. They waited in the main corridor for about half an hour before Tobias exited the cloning room, holding the door for the woman behind him. Gadreel followed, pinching and prodding her skintight suit into order.
"Good afternoon, Tobias," Charlie said, before turning to the woman beside him. "Gadreel, how do you like space so far?" Her two-tone eyes - one blue and the other green - flashed briefly as she looked up, smiled, and gently grasped Tobias’s huge bicep.
"I am incredibly grateful Toby brought me to the heavens. For certain, our work against the demonic horde is only half-finished."
"I agree," Tobias added. "The hollowed pit on Mars hath been destroyed, but that leaves the demons in a dangerously untethered position."
Jen stepped out of the locker room as Charlie and Tobias spoke. In-game, she was a few inches taller than her real-life counterpart, with a carefully sculpted figure and platinum blond hair. A handsome man with dark hair and eyes the color of green tea followed after her. Like most Englishmen, his pronounced nose lent character to his otherwise narrow face.
"Everyone, I’d like to introduce Alastair."
"It’s nice to meet you again," Charlie said, shaking the man’s hand.
"Likewise."
Remy, their final squad member, arrived not from Medical but the opposite direction. The blue-haired woman bounded down the low-gravity corridor in the company of an unassuming man of medium height. He wore his flight suit in a manner suggesting that he was accustomed to being in a fighter.
"Hello, everyone. I'd like to introduce Eugine the Eunuch," she said, her voice sarcastically cheerful. Charlie and Tobias groaned in response.
"I don't envy you working with the Sinner, and for that, you have my sympathy." Tobias said gravely, holding out his hand to the man.
Eugine’s smile was more of an apathetic smirk as he shook the proffered hand. "I have temporarily locked my personality core. Once Star Nova goes live, I'll remember this only as a dream."
"So why not go crazy, then? You ain't gonna remember most of it anyway," Remy groused in annoyance.
"Whether you are boy or girl, I am not interested in having sex with you." Eugine took a step away from his new companion.
"She's just annoyed that they took Philip away. Give her time," Charlie said, rolling his eyes. Remy puffed out her cheeks and blew a raspberry at them all.
"Shall we head to orientation?" Monty suggested diplomatically.
The group wandered down the hall until they entered a cavern carved from the lunar regolith, with stone seating arranged around a raised stage. The group found a place on the far side and waited as the room slowly filled. After about an hour, a woman in a black uniform stepped onto the stage and cleared her throat. A hidden microphone magnified the sound as the noise from the crowd dimmed.
"Unfortunately, this is no longer a ‘simulation,’ and I don't have the power to mute everyone. I would appreciate it if you kept your questions to a minimum until later," she said in a heavy British accent.
"I apologize that Colonel Blake could not be here to welcome you to Lunar Base, but with only seven days left there is just so much to do. This is unlike your other missions, in that everything must be arranged in agonizing detail. Right now, the Colonel is racing to ensure that we have enough air to breathe during the next few hours. Apparently, the influx of fighter pilots has overloaded the CO2 scrubbers."
She paused. "Wouldn't that be ironic? We all die up here, respawning over and over, just like the Roth.
"We originally thought that four dropships would be enough to resupply the lunar base, so the fact that there are six instead has given us a small amount of wiggle room. Thankfully, the crisis is being handled so we can concentrate on our jobs.
"Star Nova doesn't have clans in the same manner that Gun Meister did. Instead, humanity uses corporations, and each race will possess its own nomenclature for organizational groups. Not every squad came over as a complete group either, so after the meeting, everyone will be placed into a wing of five fighters. Each wing will join a 'flight' of a hundred ships.
"After the orientation, you will meet with your wingmates and a fighter will be assigned to you. The craft will be yours entirely, and by that, I mean that you will be responsible for ensuring they are combat capable. For the rest of the day, there will be a number of lessons on flight mechanics. I strongly urge you to sit in on them all." She paused to eye the crowd's reaction.
"Tomorrow, you'll begin simulation training, and your initial performance will determine your wing’s place in the flight for the rest of the week. Flight leaders will be chosen based on future simulation scores. You are all here for a reason, and those that can't cooperate will be asked to depart the base. We will take back the fighter, which will be better served in the reserve group."
Her already serious tone turned grave. "I’m sure that all of you know the danger we now face. The aliens have lost their logistical base on Mars, which leaves only a single Roth Carrier in the system, along with a refueling station at Jupiter. We fear that they will use planetary bombardment should they reach Earth’s orbit.
"There is already a tentative defense plan, which may change as data comes in. The carrier is still in the process of turning back toward Earth, and they will arrive in approximately seven days. We will launch four hours early and burn toward them at maximum velocity for half that time, then slow and maneuver for the engagement. Your job will be to destroy as many of the fighters and dropships as you can, then attack the carrier before it can launch more.
"It may sound simple, but you'll be under some constraints, time being the most urgent. Each minute that passes brings the enemy carrier closer to Earth. We don't know what the offensive capabilities of the vessel are, and it may possess weapons of unparalleled destruction. Fuel will also be a concern, and you'll soon find that your fighters were not designed for long-range space combat. This will limit our options greatly.
"Every console in the base is linked to the internal network. You'll be able to message one another, plan additional training time and research lesson information. There is a comm-link to Earth, but it's under emergency lockdown at the moment due to the crisis. During the week, you'll be given private berths near the launch bay. The food is awful, but will be served in the cafeteria during lunch and dinner. The times will be posted on the net. Personally, I'd chain you all to the simulators until you proved useful, but I have been ordered on pain of death to mention the recreational park. Lunar Base was designed as a training center, but there are leisure activities. The net will have more information.
"... Any questions?" she asked, after a pause. "No? None? Well then, I will leave you with one final word: Earth does not need heroes, we need team players." She stepped down from the stage, and a younger man holding a thick tablet rep
laced her.
"I'll call off names in groups of five. Follow one of the students to the flight bay where you'll be assigned your fighter.
"Heathcliff, Tiffany, Lisbeth, Freckles, and—uhhgh… BallsDeep69," he said with a shudder.
"Way to go, Ballsy, someone finally said your name! Now you can die with honor!" someone shouted from the crowd. The five players stood and headed toward the amphitheater exit. There were a few catcalls as they walked past the front row.
One of the teenage NPCs turned to escort them down the hall as the poor technician on the stage sighed and said, "I’d better get used to this… Not-So-Virgin-Mary, Papa John, Thomas the Tank, Peter Pan, and Jesus-Kun."
After another pause, he continued, "Bambo, Rambi, Thumper, Humper, and Flower."
He raised an eyebrow. "And finally, some normal names… Jennifer, Montgomery, Tobias, Remy, and Charlie."
