“Sorry, bud,” the squad leader was in such a good mood that he even clapped me on the shoulder, “we’ve got nothing like that. You’ll have to hold on—the only way is to cut you out. We’ve seen this kind of thing with that model—sometimes the release latch gets stuck. By the way, where’d you get that thing anyway?”
“Recruit training,” I went on spinning my tall tale. “Someone trusted those bunglers with a real suit and they managed to break it half to death! I got it running with some elbow grease and good old Qualian knowhow and then decided to test it out myself…Darn those newbs! I have another question, by the way: What’s going on in the Training Sector? Why are you boys running around, keeping us from testing engines? As far as I recall, and I’ve been here—well, I can’t even remember how long I’ve been here—as far as I recall, nothing like this has every happened before!”
“One of the recruits went Section 8. He managed to get his hands on a pacifier and wiped out several scores of civilians. Our assignment is to neutralize the psycho.”
“Well, you better check this one right away!” I pointed at Lestran, who gave such a start at my words that his hood slipped off his head. It was too late to hide his face, so my partner proudly raised his head and looked defiantly first at the lieutenant and then at me. There was so much determination in his eyes that I even felt happy to have such a partner—even now, he wasn’t about to betray me.
“Recruit Lestran,” said the lieutenant, having checked his PDA. “According to our data, he is recorded as missing—all the other recruits have been found.”
“What do you mean ‘missing’? I’ve been sweating those frigate engines with this engineer since this morning, trying to find the problem, and you guys have him as missing? How is he going to get his experience points?”
Once again, I sounded so genuinely baffled that the marine became stumped himself.
“Okay, I will make a note that Recruit Lestran has been located…You said he’s been here since this morning?”
“Ten o’clock to be precise. Or, wait, no,” I cut myself off, pretended to check my PDA, cursed the armor for getting in my way and muttered something along the lines of “how do you people live in these things.” Finally, I clarified: “Ten-o’-three, in the a.m.”
“I’ll log it. Okay. We’re going to take a spin around the hangar to make sure that our renegade isn’t hiding here somewhere. After that, you two can go on with your engine tests.”
“Before we get back into the ship, have one of your guys check him from head to toe,” I proposed. “I’d rather not feel like there’s an orbital station about to come down on me.”
“Sure, no problem. Alright boys, let’s go,” ordered the lieutenant and the three of them flew up into the air.
“Maybe you should be an actor?” Lestran whispered, stepping up beside me. I really didn’t want to leave until the bodies of the real engineers had vanished—who knows what kind of questions the marines would start asking if they stumbled upon them. By my estimations, there were only a few seconds until…
“What’s that noise?” one of the marines asked, banking elegantly over us, once the clatter of falling tools resounded across the entire hangar—the bodies had finally vanished.
“I’m learning how to walk!” I muttered irately in reply and took an exaggerated step forward, teetering to keep my balance. “It’s not enough that this junk heap is malfunctioning—these damn servos will end up breaking my leg in half!”
To be honest, I was risking a bit too much by speaking so informally. However, my brief acquaintance with Galactogon had taught me that the locals were capable of anything, so the best thing was to stick to the matter at hand. An engineer stuck in a suit of armor, in my opinion, would have been more than merely irritated with everyone around him—he would also seem like he’d happily tear in half the guy that brought him the faulty equipment to begin with. I could only hope I wasn’t overplaying it.
“We’ve checked the hangar. No sign of the escaped recruit!” reported the lieutenant, returning to us. “You may go on with your tests—the ship is clear!”
“You boys coming with us?” I asked just in case.
“No, we will continue our search. Good luck with your repairs—and getting out of that suit!”
“How long did you prepare for that?” Lestran asked shocked when we turned back to the frigate. “To lie so well and react to the situation without showing your nerves…When you called me a recruit, I almost soiled my pants! I was ready to kill you then, but you it turns out had it all thought out.”
I didn’t say anything but just kept walking to the frigate—at first unsteadily, while the marines were still in the hangar, and then quickly, turning on my thrusters, flying into the ship and landing into my seat, relieved. A shiver coursed through my body and a fit of nervous laughter overtook me, almost forcing me to the floor—I’d never had to bluff so hard, even in Runlustia.
Forcing myself to calm down, I explained to Lestran the reason for my laughter—had the lieutenant asked my name, I would’ve been a goner. Had the lieutenant asked for my supervisor’s name, I would’ve been a goner. Had the lieutenant asked anything at all, I would’ve been a goner…However, the grizzled warrior had only seen a reasonable guy dressed in the same suit as his soldiers, which naturally led him to feel some sympathy towards me. This was precisely what I had tried to bet on, making a show of my clumsiness. Improbable, but it worked!
“Frigate Dratistan, you are cleared for launch through door number two,” said the by now familiar voice when we got back into our seats. Instantly, a giant door in the ceiling above the ship began to slide open.
“Roger that,” Lestran said happily, getting ready to do his magic over the control panel.
I, however, felt like pushing out luck some more. Understanding perfectly well that I was risking everything that we had achieved up until that moment, I pressed the call button and said into the open channel, “I have a question—who’s the wise guy who decided to disarm the frigate? For optimal testing conditions, we need a full loadout, including torpedoes and a full cargo hold. We’re as light as a feather right now and feathers don’t do well in combat! I’m not prepared to sign off on our tests under these conditions!”
Lestran had showed me how to work the shields and armaments, and I had been shocked to discover that our frigate was as toothless as a babe—the beam cannons had no energy cells, the torpedoes had been unloaded, the hold was empty. I should have probably kept my mouth shut, but…
“Pursuant to Directive 7742.33, all space vessels stored in the hangar must…” the voice began surprised, but I went on risking it. It’s not like anyone was closing the hangar door, after all…
“We submitted a request for comprehensive tests! With a complete battle loadout! Please get in touch with General Trank—he will confirm that I personally asked for his signature! Goddamn it, how much more crap can you put us through! If you don’t immediately load the frigate’s holds with Raq, return the energy cells and torpedoes—you’ll have to repair this frigate yourselves! I’m sick of this! I tell you, my entire division will quit and go to Shylak XIV—they need good engineers over there! Then, you can explain everything to the general yourself. The lieutenant already told us about the renegade recruit—but what do we have to do with that? We’ve already been checked over so thoroughly, that…”
“Raq?” There was so much astonishment in the dispatcher’s voice that I even smiled. If this were real life, I basically would have just asked him to fill the ship’s cargo holds with gold.
“Obviously,” I answered without hesitating. From what I had read in solitary, Raq was one of the heaviest and at the same time most valuable resources in the game. “We need to check the ship at maximum capacity. If I could stuff a neutron star in here, I’d do it without a second thought!”
“I don’t see your request anywhere,” the voice replied, faltering.
“Excuse me, who am I speaking to?”
; “Junior Comms Center Dispatcher Gartil.”
“Ah, I see…Pass me up to someone a bit more senior then, Junior Dispatcher Gartil.”
“I am unable to do that, sir.” (Oh look—I had been knighted!) “All our manpower has been channeled into finding the AWOL recruit…”
“How long have you been working here?” Ignoring Lestran’s imprecations to end the conversation and get off this planet as soon as possible, I put a finger to my helmet, indicating that I wanted to be left alone.
“One month already, sir!”
“I see…Okay sonny, forgive me but I have no choice. I’m terminating the testing procedure.”
“Please wait!” A hint of determination appeared in Gartil’s voice. “I’ll find that request later—I’m ordering a full load out now! Sir?”
“Roger that! Thank you, Gartil. If everything works out for us, I’ll buy you a drink! And I’ll make sure to recommend you to the general. He likes decisive and confident individuals! And I can see that you are quite the individual!”
“Thank you, sir! Please forgive me but there is another problem!”
“Another problem?” I tensed up. Was my story about to fall apart at the seams?
“The warehouse only has enough Raq to fill half of your ship’s holds. I have a solution, though—we can load your holds with two prototypes. According to my data, our scientists have been using the adjacent hangar to develop some kind of new engine. They’ve paused their work at the moment. The mass and dimensions of the prototypes are perfect for filling the frigate’s holds to maximum capacity!”
“Load them up!” I said, realizing that I had been holding my breath and finally releasing it. “I can see I wasn’t wrong about you, Gartil!”
“I’m doing my best, sir! I’ve relayed your orders to the deck personnel. The cargo will be delivered to you in five minutes. Best of luck with your tests. May I help you with anything else?”
“You can make sure that the orbital stations don’t zap us by accident. Over and out!”
Having disconnected, I leaned back in my chair, which seemed to utterly ignore my immense weight, and closed my eyes wearily. To my great surprise, my hands were shaking so bad that I felt like I had just spent a week drinking, while my pulse was going as fast as a machine gun. If everything worked out now, the Qualian Empire would be off limits to me forever. Personally, I would never forget something like this, much less forgive it…
“Loading has commenced…sir,” said Lestran, admiration seeping into his tone.
“Make sure they don’t slip us anything we don’t want,” I asked my partner without opening my eyes. “Meanwhile, I’ll read about how to manage the frigate’s shields…”
“We’re taking off,” Lestran announced about seven minutes later. Our ship trembled slightly, leaving the flight deck. “Engaging stabilizers,” added my partner, putting an end to the tremors. If I understood it correctly, these stabilizers had to be turned on either before or simultaneously with lift-off. I didn’t tell this to my pilot though, as he was just then trying to guide us through the hangar door. Control comes with experience and anyway, Lestran was an engineer, not a pilot. I’d get a hang of flying once I got a chance to read about it some more. Then you would see me zooming all around Galactogon hither and thither. Let him do the flying for now…
“We’re leaving the atmosphere. I’m plotting our jump,” my partner went on describing his actions. On my screen, however, an alert popped up, notifying me that we were being targeted by an orbital station. “Hyperdrive initializing, thirty seconds until we jump…”
“Frigate Dratistan, this is General Trank! Return to base immediately or I shall order your destruction.”
The voice was so menacing that I got chills all along my body. It looked like poor Gartil was already in trouble …
“Twenty seconds,” Lestran whispered, letting me take control of the situation.
“This is the captain of The Space Cucumber! I am officially announcing the rechristening of this spaceship as well as the ship’s transfer to my command. I am also expressing my categorical opposition to the practice of feeding Training Sector recruits organic food in the mess hall! Pursuant to the Emperor’s directive, recruits must be fed not only organic food but also some sort of vegetable, preferably corn. Considering that this imperial edict has been grossly violated by the facility’s administration, I will be forced to apprise the Emperor of noncompliance on the part of the facility’s Executive.”
“Whose noncompliance? What are you even talking about? Identify yourself immediately, or I will order your termination!”
“Five seconds.” Lestran’s face expressed the smile of a man who believed in the impossible.
“My name is Surgeon…Pirate Surgeon!”
“Fire on my…” began the general. I never heard the end of his sentence, for the stars became lines, leaving hundreds of parsecs between us and the Training Sector.
Your Rapport with the Qualian Empire has decreased. Current Rapport: -100,000.
You have earned the “Qualian Pariah” Achievement. You have reached the limit for negative Rapport with this Empire. From now on, all enemies of the Qualian Empire will be neutrally disposed towards you—and all close allies of the Empire will try to destroy you.
The shadow guilds of Galactogon wish to meet with you. The rendezvous point is Planet Qirlats in Confederation space. Your contact person is Hilvar.
“The shadow guilds are curious about me!” squeaked Lestran, who it seems also received some kind of notification.
“Where are we going, ya great curiosity?” I asked my excited partner.
“Haven’t the slightest idea! I picked the first coordinates I saw and sent the ship there. We’re coming out of hyperspace in a minute—then, we’ll see where we are.”
“I received a notification that some people want to have a chat with us. But I’m not about to head off to a meeting with strangers unprepared. It’s eight in the evening at the moment. We’ll pop out of hyperspace, find the closest planet, land on it and take a break. We can reconvene tomorrow at nine, you down?”
“No need to ask, sir! I’ll be here on deck waiting for you at 8 a.m.!” replied my partner, unconsciously switching to a deferential tone.
“In that case, I’ll need your help. I will leave my armor onboard. It needs to be repaired. You’re an engineer, aren’t you? You can use this as a chance to gain some experience with your robots…Will you do it?”
“Sir, you are insulting me. You’ll barely get a chance to blink your eyes, before everything will be brought to a better state than it ever was! Here we go, leaving hyperspace now…”
The star-lines contracted back to points, the hum of the hyperdrive fell quiet, and The Space Cucumber froze in infinity…
“Surgeon, are you okay, sir?” Lestran became worried after a few minutes. I had never yet been in deep space and so far from planets, stars, people…My mind understood very well that I was only in a game and that everything around me was merely the play of my imagination and modern technology, yet my heart still trembled in reverence. Before my eyes lay the blackness of infinity, a testament to the fact that a person is no more than dust mote in an enormous universe—it was an unforgettable sensation…
“Are there any planets in the vicinity?” I asked my partner, trying to speak in my normal voice. I didn’t wish to show Lestran the awe Galactogon just made me experience—a few hours would go by and I would become acclimated to these surroundings. Until that time, I preferred to maintain my composure.
“Scanning now…There are two star systems within ten minutes’ flight from us. One is planet-less, while the other has a gas giant and several small asteroids. Judging by the description, the Altan Alliance battled the Voldan Alliance here. Human players were involved in that battle, so all the planets have been stripped of resources entirely. We are in a dead sector…”
“An excellent place to lie low for a bit. No better, in fact. Head for the system with t
he asteroids. By the way, can anyone find us?”
“Unlikely. The Qualians, even if they give chase, only know our vector. They have no idea how long we were in hyperspace. I know this is just a game, but even in a game there must be some logic. Look—what do you think of that planet?” Lestran pointed at a humongous boulder that we were slowly approaching.
“It’ll do. Work your piloting magic and set us down. We’ll meet tomorrow as agreed—at nine…”
The cocoon’s cover slid aside, after which the built-in seat lifted my poor body practically vertically, easing my egress. A convenient thing, these modern game cocoons. Only a few years ago, the player would have to get out of this coffin on his own. It looked like a dead man had suddenly gotten a craving for someone’s blood. Despite the life support system, one week in the cocoon had a significant impact on coordination, so the first five-ten minutes, the player resembled a zombie more than a human. Considering that he had to clamber out of a giant box, we used to call capsules just that—coffins…
“Welcome back, Master,” Stan instantly chirped. “I have gathered the data about Galactogon you requested and transferred it to your PDA. The information about piracy in the game has also been collected and…”
“Stan, fill me a bath and make dinner,” I said, interrupting the smart home’s report, “and put together a report about recent events in the Training Sector that I just fled from. I need to know the reactions of the Qualians and the other players…In general, get me everything you can find about that. Also, I need a frigate emulator—that’s top priority.”
“Alex, what’s up! Where’d you go? Want to go somewhere and chill for a bit? It’d be nice to catch up, find out what you’re up to, what waters you’re swimming in…Anyway, come on out of your man cave and give me a call…”
“Stan, when did this message arrive?” I asked the smart home. The bath hit me so hard that I almost fell asleep in it and decided to go through my voicemail to keep awake. I had spent the last four days in Galactogon and could easily have missed some visitor knocking on my door. Starting with the phone calls, I instantly came across Alonso’s message…
Start the Game (Galactogon: Book #1) Page 8
