“That is a very good sign.” Basha Tushihh was first to give an opinion on the matter, saying exactly what I was thinking. “I bet those two on the frigate didn’t die!”
“And that means the ship probably made it, too!” Uline said, rubbing her hands together just like a person. “By all Geckho laws, that is our shared trophy, and such a frigate must be worth eighteen to twenty million crystals, and that’s at minimum!”
“And split equally, that’s one and a half million each!” the Supercargo added, quickly doing the math. Everyone around started smiling and rumbling in happiness.
Well, well! I didn’t think our trophy was worth that much, but I trusted the experienced Trader’s estimate. Hopefully she was right. I needed money badly, and I definitely would not refuse my very own star frigate. Although we shouldn’t have been counting our eggs before they hatched. I mean, we were calculating each person’s share of the value of the Tolili-Ukh X frigate, which was god knows where and might not even have survived.
Now was not the time to sit with our heads in the clouds and daydream. We had real business that needed to be dealt with now: figure out the situation on the front and our position here on the military base. Where to go, where to register as respawned, and what we should do next. I said as much, and Supercargo Avan Toi promised to figure it out, as he knew the structure of the base. He told us not to go anywhere, then disappeared.
He was gone for a while, twenty minutes at least. In that time, we managed to walk through the neighboring rooms and even talk with soldiers from other downed starships, most of whom were just milling about and awaiting further orders. As we immediately figured out, very many of them were landing troops. The Meleyephatians were aggressively pursuing the Third Strike Fleet’s landing ships. Finally, Avan Toi returned and loudly declared the joyful news:
“We won!!! The enemy surrendered, the shields have been deactivated around the Ursa-II-II satellite and the planet Ursa-II as well. Now we’re landing on the planet and capturing strategically important targets. No more reinforcements are needed, so new squadrons are not being formed. They won’t be asking for anyone from the base.” Then Avan Toi started rumbling, showing his fangs and summarized with dismay: “The fleet leadership has no time for respawned players, either. They have plenty of other problems now. So we are apparently stranded on this comet for the long haul...”
“And what about the captured frigate, did you figure anything out?” Uline couldn’t hold back, impatiently interrupting the storyteller.
The fat Supercargo looked downcast and, with a heavy sigh, announced the bad news:
“From what I was told, the Third Strike Fleet took heavy losses. No more than a third of our starships made it. So captured trophies are going to the owners of ships downed in combat as compensation. Trophies and awards are going to be given out personally by Kung Waid Shishish. And in that there were more losses than command planned on, there isn’t enough compensation to go around. Seemingly, luck won’t be shining on us today...”
All around a collective sigh of disappointment rang out, to which Avan Toi hurried to announce:
“In any case, we don’t know anything for sure yet, too little time has passed. Also, Waid Shishish hasn’t gotten around to it yet. Maybe when the commander finds out about our raid, he’ll appreciate our contribution and reward us...”
“Mhm, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath! He’d sooner give our frigate to his relative Uraz Tukhsh to compensate his lost ship and as a reward for bravery,” Vasha grumbled in dismay. Uline couldn’t hold back either and commented acridly:
“More like a reward for stupidity and cowardice! Uraz Tukhsh, you see, was unwilling to part with his ship... You really have to try to die that pointlessly!”
“But no matter how you spin it, it was our captain who first set foot on the enemy planetoid,” the Medic intervened. Everyone around suddenly went silent in embarrassment, having remembered that the captain put the Medic in charge, which meant he trusted him fully.
In an effort to smooth over the strained silence, I hurried to speak my mind, saying Waid Shishish probably had a whole list of those requiring compensation for losses, and he certainly wouldn’t have the time to worry about us. And really how could the commander find out about our heroic deed? Had Dmitry Zheltov and Ayukh managed to send a message about a breach in the Meleyephatian defenses before the explosion? It seemed unlikely, because they hadn’t figured out the communications systems of the alien frigate yet.
And also, Dmitry and Ayukh could hardly have known what we were doing in the subterranean complex anyway, because they were inside the Meleyephatian ship the whole time and didn’t see anything. They probably didn’t even know what had caused the explosion. Without that information, lining up the big blast in the Meleyephatian complex, which had killed almost eight hundred defenders, with our actions would have been hard. Although... I called Uline aside and quietly asked how much of a video clip she’d managed to film.
The huge Trader cringed in dismay and admitted honestly:
“Gerd Gnat, everything went wrong with that... I wanted to make it nice, but the lighting was worthless, and your scan turned off the camera at the worst possible moment. I had to set up the lights and camera all over again and lost a bunch of time. I only managed to recite the first part of the script, then some of the background fell in scene with all the moving machinery and frigates on the conveyer belt. The material is simply not up to snuff. No news agency will pay for it...”
“Still, make sure to keep the footage!” I demanded. “Being paid by news agencies is entirely secondary here. That video is the only proof of what we accomplished on the planetoid, and at least some counterweight to the entirely feasible accusation that we broke the captain’s order and deserted, leaving a combat ship right in the middle of an ongoing battle.”
“Do you think they’ll accuse us of that?” Uline asked, anxious and even afraid, to which I just shrugged my shoulders indefinitely:
“Who knows? Uraz Tukhsh accused me of turning on the loudspeaker in the Shiamiru to make him look bad. So nothing would surprise me now...”
I had to admit, I was in a very foul mood, and there was plenty of reason. I had been fired by a close relative of the commander and was now sitting penniless on the edge of the Universe, very far from the lands of my native faction. I had a fleeting hope to keep a captured frigate, but it seemingly wouldn’t come to fruition. Even if it had survived, there was a high probability it wouldn’t be going to me and my friends anyway, which also upset me. I was very depressed by the indefiniteness of the future, as well as the fact that I couldn’t expect any news about all those things for the next few hours.
I had to admit that I was having an unlucky streak, and this whole voyage had so far only brought dismay and loss. However... Here I suddenly noticed that everyone around was silent and watching me, clearly expecting some commentary or even orders. I could not allow myself to look despondent! My friends wanted to see an expression of calm confidence on my face and to know that their leader had a clear plan of action for every eventuality.
Like it or not, I had to live up to these expectations and the role I’d taken on as squad commander:
“Uline, try and sell the footage to the news channels anyway, maybe they’ll take a shine to it. If they don’t want to pay, give it out for free. We could all use a boost in Fame. But first consult with the local military leadership to make sure we aren’t accidentally revealing military secrets so they don’t come after us for that. Avan Toi, you have the best understanding of this matter, so go help Uline!”
Psionic skill increased to level fifty-two!
Authority increased to 36!
I turned next to the Medic and asked him to track down our former captain. I was reminded that Uraz Tukhsh had promised that after the end of the battle with the Meleyephatians he would hire a shuttle to bring me and my friends wherever we wanted. This was the very time to remind the Aristocrat of his promise, bec
ause we needed to get off this toxic comet.
I gave Basha and Vasha the mission to leave into the real world and try to get in touch with the old Navigator Ayukh if he also left the game. He was from a famous clan. His name was known too, so it would probably be possible to find a way to get in touch with him. I asked the brothers to figure out where Ayukh was in the game, and also to figure out the situation with the Meleyephatian frigate.
And finally, Tini... I called my ward over and, looking him right in the eyes, said in Miyelonian, which the others didn’t understand:
“You’ll have the most important mission of all. I want you to get in touch with Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo in the real world...”
“Who?!” the kitten pressed his ears back in fear and crouched down, covering his head with his paws. At least he didn’t piss himself.
“You heard right, Tini. The Great Priestess of your race. If you cannot reach her directly, get in touch with any member of the First Pride and tell them you have a message from a human by the name of Gerd Gnat for the incarnation of the Great First Female, which must be given in person. I’m sure that Leng Amiru will hear you out or read the information in your thoughts, which would also be fine. So then, listen. I have a very rare and dangerous item and I want to try and sell it to her. It’s the Great Priestess’s tail! I’m sure she won’t want to see it fall into the hands of her opponents and spoil her reputation. Tell her that my price is one million crypto.”
The kitten’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t have the gall to refute my order. Great! After telling my friends to meet back up here in exactly one ummi, I was intending to leave the game, asking Eduard and Imran to accompany me. But then the Princess suddenly stopped me:
“And what about me? Gnat, you gave everyone a mission but forgot about me! What am I supposed to do?”
“You...” I wanted to give Minn-O something that looked like a serious task, and at the same time would not cause the Dark Faction to accuse my wayedda of espionage. “You... Ah, that’s right! I’ve heard from you and your ruling grandpa Leng Thumor-Anhu La-Fin, that a player can be transferred between factions and even brought into a parallel world. Well then, I need you to figure out the details of that process! I cannot have my beautiful wayedda only available to me in the virtual world! I want you with me in real life, too!”
Minn-O looked at me in deep thought, then her eyes lit up. The Princess smiled in satisfaction and said in the Dark Faction language:
“Very (unknown) move, my husband. I approve! That (unknown) goes both ways, and you (unknown) could be in my world with me! I’ll be sure to figure it out for you!”
Astrolinguistics skill increased to level seventy-nine!
Chapter Twelve. A Classical Raymonda
THE AROMA OF MEAT and vegetables on the grill wafted into my nostrils as soon as I left the corncob, so I just followed my nose. The leader of the Second Legion’s birthday party was being held in a large clearing in a park under the Dome, past the volleyball and tennis courts. Today there were canopies out and even a stage surrounded by tables. Not far away, portable grills were smoking and hissing away.
Imran and Eduard accompanied me to a ribbon stretched around the perimeter and, after handing me off to Second Legion soldiers, said goodbye for the next five and a half hours and went to do their business. I stepped over the ribbon with a huge bouquet of bright red roses and headed into the center of the clearing. Music was thundering and celebration permeated the atmosphere.
“Gnat, wait!” an unfamiliar dark-haired soldier of Asian descent grabbed me by the shoulder and handed me an orange t-shirt with the emblem of his legion — an ancient Greek helmet with a high ridge inside a white circle, surrounded with the words “Second Legion.” “Today, every guest is supposed to wear a t-shirt with our symbols. It was the commander’s idea.”
Ah, a party for the inner circle. Clearly, Tamara had done that to once again emphasize the uniqueness of her soldiers and inflate their ego and prestige under the Dome. I didn’t argue and, after quickly pulling the number 1470 polo off, changed into the orange t-shirt. They didn’t keep me any longer, especially as Roman Pavlovich was already hurrying out to meet me.
“He’s here? Great! Have him come quick to the striped tent. Tamara is in there with her friends trying on different outfits before they go on stage. We have a little show coming up. We wanted to shake things up around here. Every Second Legion soldier was supposed to play a role in this famous theater production.”
I imagined the scene if I walked into a tent full of girls changing without knocking. Most likely, they would shout in fear, then I would take this bouquet of thorny roses to the face. So, I didn’t really want to.
“Roman Pavlovich, if your daughter is changing and getting ready, maybe I’d better go see her after the performance. And I can give her the bouquet then, too!”
“No, let’s do it now. Take pity on the poor girl. She’s all worked up!” the severe deputy insisted, leading me by the hand through the crowd of soldiers before the stage. “Tamara has been waiting for you a long time and is very anxious. She has been asking about you practically once a minute. She should be going on stage any time now, but you just wouldn’t show!”
I had to submit to the respected veteran’s requests and go straight into the tent. And thankfully I was wrong about what I’d find inside. There was no shouting or half-naked girls. Also, most of the actresses’ costumes consisted of just a cardboard crown, a cape made of curtains and a paper skirt over track pants or jeans. Well everyone except one girl. Tamara was wearing a pure white ballet dress with a bodice and layered fluffy skirt, thin white leggings and real ballet shoes to top it all off! And on her head was a small elegant tiara inlaid with glimmering gems. It looked very much like it was made of real gold and silver! Some amateur performance this would be. Seemingly, the Second Legion hadn’t spared any expenses on this single-use outfit their vaunted leader.
“Tamara, forgive me for being late. Happy birthday!” I handed the dressed-up birthday girl a bouquet of roses and decisively kissed her, which made her start smiling and blush red.
“Thank you, Gnat. But this is not only my celebration, it is for everyone in our Legion!” Tamara said with a sweeping gesture, pointing at her friends and all the people outside the tent. “Today we finally finished the fortress in the Karelia node, and our faction was able to add another eighty-seven players! Lozovsky has already handed the curators a list of what kind of people the faction needs.”
It was very interesting and informative, but our conversation was cut short by Journalist Lydia Vertyachikh coming into the tent. She was both a guest of the party and the MC. After a short nod to me the tall lady, also wearing an orange Second Legion t-shirt, asked the actresses to get ready to go on stage.
“Three minutes until your number begins! And you Kirill, go quick to table one,” Lydia said, pointing me to a long large table right in front of the stage. “They reserved a spot specially for you there where you’ll have a great view.”
I left the tent and hurried to the table. The serious muscular men, many of whom I had seen in Tamara’s company before, but none of whom I knew well, greeted me warmly, shook my hand, slapped my shoulders and let me past them and nearer the stage. I could hear quiet whispering behind me like: “He came,” “That’s nice,” “Gnat made it,” “Little Tamara will be happy,” and with surprise I realized that such a seemingly small thing as whether one guest showed up to a party had captivated the minds of many of Gerd Tamara’s underlings. The soldiers sincerely loved their dainty little commander and were just as worried as she was.
Finally, I elbowed through to a free spot and just barely managed to sit down before a faceted shot-glass filled to the brim appeared before me.
“Penalty shot! For being late!” I heard demanding shouts from all directions and gave a heavy sigh.
I had never been one to indulge, especially because alcohol had a very strong effect on me. I just instantly got wasted. Since my s
tudent days, when I got swinishly drunk at a few parties, I had firmly made up my mind that strong alcoholic drinks were not for me. In good company, I could allow myself to drink wine or beer, or like in the interview with Lydia Vertyachikh, vermouth and juice, but two hundred milliliters of vodka… I swallowed the spit that came up my throat. Sure, I might not fall under the table right away, but I would definitely start slurring.
Still, it was too late to turn back. Hundreds of eyes were boring into me. Roman Pavlovich was loudly giving a toast: “To the Second Legion and to its leader Gerd Tamara!!!” So I had to raise the glass. Ugh... do or die! I decisively took the first sip and had a hard time not showing surprise. There was water in the glass, mixed with just a tiny bit of vodka for smell. Roman Pavlovich, Gerd Tamara’s first deputy, gave me a barely noticeable wink, showing who was behind this. I quickly settled down, finishing the “vodka” unhurriedly and with dignity. Then I turned in various directions and demonstrated the upturned glass, having received cries of stormy elation and even applause from the Second Legion troops.
At first, I was afraid because I didn’t see the logical jump in my Authority. But soon I realized I was not in the game, but the real world. Damn, no surprise I was so confused really! Seemingly, I was now more used to the virtual world than the real one. And that really shook me because from there it was a short trip to the madhouse. Was I losing my grip on reality?
Fortunately, few noticed my confusion and embarrassment, and the ones that did wrote it up to alcohol. The people sitting next to me obligingly passed a plate of pickled vegetables and suggested I chase my shot. And then, just in time, a few skewers of shish-kebab were brought over from the grills and the impatient soldiers all turned to the meat. I also came away with a skewer of aromatic lamb, but I didn’t manage to get to eating before everyone around came at me with muted shouts of: “Quiet! Tamara is coming on stage!”
Game Changer (Reality Benders Book #3) LitRPG Series Page 12
