by Rick Scott
Rank B: 250000XP £50000
Nanonite Plate x 5 Memory Unit x 1
Rank A: 500000XP £100000
Nanonite Plate x 10 Memory Unit x 5
Aerial Laser Cannon Mk I
Range: 1500 Accuracy: AOE
Damage: 15000
Rank S: 1000000XP £500000 CEOIOU x 1
Nanonite Plate x 20 Memory Unit x 10 Backup Core Voucher x 1
Aerial Laser Cannon Mk II
Range: 5000 Accuracy: AOE
Damage: 30000
“Look at the rewards for Rank S,” Becky says. “A CEOIOU? If that’s not the equivalent of a Favor of the gods in this world, then I don’t know what is.”
An IOU from Lennox himself? Holy crap, she’s right! My heart soars with elation as my hope returns. “Guys, we can still do this!”
“Yeah, right…” Lexi says, completely lackluster. “That would mean you defeating the Gun Queen…in the real world.”
“Yeah,” Aiko says. “So what?”
Lexi laughs. “No offence, but you lot didn’t make it past Rank C.”
“That’s because our magic wasn’t working properly,” Gilly says.
“Well, even if it was, the real Gun Queen is out in the Badlands. That’s PvP central. You lot wouldn’t last a second out there as factionless, much less beat a legendary mob in the process. Every punter in the zone would be jumping you.”
Her words dampen my spirits but not my resolve. I wrack my brain for a solution. Compared to searching aimlessly below the earth, chased by hundreds of Others or entering the labyrinth three more times and destroying three more cursed spheres, beating a robot boss in a hoop-dress has to be the easier option. The no magic thing will be a problem, though. We’d still need to survive that Aerial Barrage attack it has and Aiko and I would need a reliable means of Shadow Copy to do it.
As I mull on it some more, the puzzle pieces begin to click and a smile spreads across my face. “I’ve got an idea, guys.”
“You do?” Val Helena says.
I nod and then turn to Lexi. “I have one more favor to ask you, Lexi. Actually two.”
The goth-girl stares back at me with a scowl. “Two?”
“We need a meeting with Queen Angela,” I say. “And then we need to borrow one of your mana trees.”
Chapter 21: Deal or no Deal
We enter Queen Angela’s private office on the penthouse floor of the Young Lords’ building through a set of double doors fifteen feet high. The entire place looks designed to accommodate Queen Angela’s great height, right down to the furniture, which includes a large steel desk she’s now sat behind and a metal chair that looks more like a docking station, than anything a normal person could sit upon.
Aside from the furniture, the office resembles our loft a few floors below, right down to the floor-to-ceiling windows that line her office and give a spectacular view of the city skyline from 15 stories up.
The queen eyes us coolly as we step inside, looking much like a CEO herself as she taps her fingertips together while reclining in her high-backed chair. To her side is her Lieutenant, Lance, scowling as usual, but thankfully she’s kept the rest of her peanut gallery at bay for this meeting.
We line up in front of her like targets for a firing squad and my heart begins to race. On the way here, I went over in my head a million times what I want to say to her, but seeing her up close—with those striking features and imposing body—has me feeling weak in the knees.
Queen Angela stands from behind her desk, her dark dreadlocks falling over her broad shoulders as she leans forward, glaring at us with her piercing chrome eyes.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” she says in a no-nonsense tone. “The only reason I even agreed to this meeting, is because Lexi personally pledged that hearing you out would be worth my while.” She then looks to Lexi who stands nervously by my side. “And for her sake…it better well be.”
I catch Lexi taking an involuntary swallow. She’s put herself on the line for us yet again, and I can’t let her down. I briefly filled her and everyone else in on my plan and together we’ve developed it even further into something that should solve all our problems at once; but now it’s up to me to deliver it, to sell it to the one person who truly matters in all this.
The one person who can make it all happen for real.
“You have two minutes,” Queen Angela says, retaking her seat. “Go.”
My teammates look to me and give me silent nods.
“Queen Angela,” I say, stepping forward. “First, thank you for agreeing to meet with us. I realize that after the report of our performance, you’re probably looking at us as write-offs, right now.”
“Correct,” Lance says. “Which is why it boggles me that you’re all back here. You’re wasting our time.”
Angela raises a hand to her subordinate. “I’ll hear them out. They still have two minutes. Hurry it up, please.”
Okay… need to get this out right. “The reason we failed is because we couldn’t use our magic.” I then demonstrate by casting Shadow Copy and the spell lands perfectly. “But as you can see, we have no problem here. And that’s thanks to what’s sitting down in your basement right now.”
“The mana trees,” Lexi says. “I saw it for myself, Queen Angela. They couldn’t land a spell for nothing before in the city. But here, they can do it all.”
Angela rolls her eyes. “So ‘magic’ is going to make you go from failing rank C to magically beating Rank A?”
“No,” I say. “We’re not going for Rank A anymore. We’re going to kill the Gun Queen…for real.”
Queen Angela leans back in her chair, cocking her head while raising a brow. “What?”
“This is ridiculous,” Lance says. “I saw your performance. No way can you win fighting a—”
Rembrandt suddenly raises his pistol to my head and pulls the trigger with a bang!
Rembrandt uses Kill Shot!
Your shadow absorbs the attack!
Queen Angela jumps to her feet, startled as the shot goes off, loud as thunder in my ears.
The bullet hits the window across the room and it shatters into a spiderweb pattern of tiny cracks. My ears are still ringing but I can hear Queen Angela’s voice loud and clear.
“What the bloody hell was that!” Angela shouts. “Have you gone completely mad?”
“You had to see it for yourself, Angela,” Rembrandt says. “That’s how we’ll survive the fight. I told you they have abilities that make them unsurpassed in taking on bosses.”
“That Aerial Barrage attack,” I say. “I’m betting it’s why no one has beaten her yet. But we have a plan to survive the attack. The only thing we need is an opportunity to get to her.”
Angela eases back down into her chair again, glaring at the broken window. “You’re paying for that by the way, Rembrandt.”
The cyberpunker chuckles. “Of course.”
Angela stares down at her desk a moment before looking back up at me with a furrow on her brow. “So you came here to convince me to give you all another shot? Is that it?”
“No…” I shake my head. “We’re not doing this for you, Queen Angela. And we’re not after a simulation victory either. Lexi’s pretty sure the trees won’t work within the sim anyway. What we’re after is the real Gun Queen for a drop of our own.”
“The IOU,” Becky says. “That’s what we want. The rest of the drops are yours.”
Angela squints at the Halfling. “What?”
“We’re looking at this as a partnership now,” I say, keeping the pressure on. “We need something and you need something. And we can work together to get it.”
Your Barter increases by 0.4.
Queen Angela’s eyes go wide. “Well I’ll be. You’re bloody hustling me now, aren’t you?”
“Not a hustle,” I say. “Straight-up business. You help us get what we need and you get the S-class version of
that gun you want so much.”
Your Barter increases by 0.3.
Angela stiffens when I mention the weapon and immediately she casts a glance at Lance. The bioroid keeps his head straight, avoiding her stare, like the gun was something he wasn’t supposed to mention.
Bingo…I’ve got more leverage than I thought. She’s shown her hand. Or Lance has anyway. She wants that gun more than anything. I just need to convince her that we can deliver it.
“You’ve seen what our magic allows us to do,” I say. “And there are two of us who can do that. In our Shard it’s an ultra-rare ability and something—perhaps the only thing—that can defeat the Gun Queen.”
The bronze-skinned android sits back in her chair looking pissed-off, but I can tell the logic already has her convinced. I just need to close the deal now.
“So this is the offer,” I say. “We rejoin your faction and you put together a PvP team that can get us to the Gun Queen. And then we take it from there. You get your drop and we get ours. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Oh is that all?” she says sardonically. “Babysit a boss fight while defending against every Faction in the zone? Sounds like a cake walk.”
I shrug nonchalantly. “We’re the best shot you’re ever going to get at defeating her. So now’s the time to pull out all the stops. What do you say?”
Your Barter increases by 0.7.
Skill Up! Your Barter is now 9!
I pause there and watch her brain at work as she weighs the options. I then glance at Val Helena and give her a nod. Time for the favor we really need.
“There’s one more thing,” Val Helena says. “Joining the faction goes for Rembrandt as well.”
Angela looks up from her contemplating, stunned for a moment, and then scoffs out a laugh. “That’s impossible. Even if I wanted to. He’s a Ronin. He can’t join us. We’ve already had this discussion. It’s not happening.”
“We’re a package deal,” I say, backing Val Helena up. “You need to offer him protection as well. The only way we survived Kurgan was fighting as a team. And we don’t leave our team members out in the cold.” My heart thunders as I prepare to raise the stakes. It’s all-or-nothing time and I pray that I’ve read her right. “If you can’t take in Rembrandt…the deal is off.”
I hold my breath, wincing inwardly as I try to maintain my poker face.
Please don’t call this bluff. There’s no fallback position if she does.
“Are you insane?” Lance shouts. He then looks savagely towards the goth girl. “Lexi, you brought them here presenting something like this? You saw what Kurgan did uptown. You want him showing up here for a follow-up?”
“I-I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t know they were going to ask this.”
“Neither did I,” Rembrandt says and looks over at Val Helena and me.
I blush a little under his stare. Val Helena and I did hatch up this part on our own, but mainly because we knew Rembrandt would be way too selfless to ask for anything like this himself.
“We need you with us, Rem,” Val Helena says. “We’re not letting you face that Kurgan alone.”
“Damn right,” Aiko says. “We’ll need as many as possible to fend off that freak.”
Rembrandt smiles. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, honestly. But it just can’t work like that, mates.”
“We should at least be allowed to watch each other’s backs,” I say. “How can we do that if you’re not with us?”
“Look, it’s his problem!” Lance shouts. “You’re not going to make it ours.”
“Well unless you do, no one’s getting anything they want,” Val Helena says. “I’m dead serious about walking away. Make your decision now!”
“We don’t have to decide on anything!” Lance fires back. “Who do you think you are making demands—!”
“Enough!” Angela shouts, slamming both fists upon the desk with a loud metal clang. The sound reverberates for a few seconds, while silence fills the room. “I need time to consider this.”
Lance looks up at her, perplexed. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Quiet,” she snaps and studies the surface of her desk while still standing. Her chrome eyes shift back and forth as another silence takes hold. She must stare at the desk for a full minute or more, before her lips curve into a faint smile.
“I’m willing to do as you say,” she says, looking up, the smile completely gone. “But only if Rembrandt is willing to stand Trial by Tournament.”
“Do what?” Val Helena says.
“What is that?” I ask.
“I’m willing,” Rembrandt says quickly.
“Wait,” Becky says. “What did you just agree to?”
“It’s a system to resolve conflicts through a PvP match,” Rembrandt explains the concept briefly. “Any king or queen can call for one. If the accused wins the match, the debt is considered paid. So anyone who has a beef with me will basically be allowed a go at me in the ring.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Aiko says.
“All at once,” Rembrandt adds. “I imagine every major king will want in. So that’s at least a half dozen or so…plus Kurgan.”
Holy crap…! “Rem, you can’t agree to this!”
“If he wants my protection, he will,” Angela says. “Leading up to the match, all sides agree to an amnesty period to allow for preparations. An amnesty is the only thing that’ll keep the hounds at bay while you take care of the Gun Queen.”
This is insane. He’s signing up for a suicide mission! “Rem, it’s not worth this. We’ll find another way.”
“No, mate,” he says. “There is no other way. Queen Angela, for the sake of my friends and what we’ve come here to do, I’ll stand and resolve my debt in the ring.”
“Good,” she says with a satisfied smile. “Sounds like we have ourselves a deal.”
“You’re joking, right?” Lance looks to Angela. “With his track record? You know what’ll happen if he skips town again? You’ll have to fight in his place! And who’s to say that psycho Kurgan would even respect the amnesty period anyway?”
“He’s a megalomaniacal narcissist,” Angela says, eyeing Lance. “The chance for him to publicly execute Rembrandt before a live audience of thousands is something he’d gladly pass up a back-alley murder for. It’s perhaps the only thing that will stop him.”
Publicly execute? My blood runs cold. This can’t be happening! “Wait! We didn’t sign up for this!”
“Didn’t you now?” Angela eyes me with a slick grin. “You wanted protection for him. This is what it’s going to take. So ask yourself. Are you still in?”
My knees go weak with uncertainty. I glace over at Rembrandt and send a PM.
Me: Rem, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d lead to all this.
He removes his mirror shades and smiles at me.
Rembrandt: Don’t worry. I did. I have sins to pay for, Reece. And frankly I’d rather face them head-on. True Strength time, mate. This is the best way.
“No way,” Lance says and then he turns to Angela. “You’re not agreeing to this, are you? I warned you the first time about him and now you’re going to let him set you up again? The minute they get what they want, they’ll be out of here. They’ll leave this place in a crap storm just like before!”
“I know what I’m doing, Lance!” she hisses at him through clenched teeth. She then looks back to us. “But he makes a good point. One of you will need to stand as his second. It’s the only way I’ll agree to do this.”
“His second?” I say.
“A surety,” Lance says. “If he doesn’t show, you fight instead of Angela.”
Crap. And here I thought I held all the cards, but Queen Angela just went and flipped the whole darn table on me.
“I’ll stand as his second,” Maxis says, stepping forward.
Val Helena’s eyes go wide. “Max, no!”
“Hey,” he says, looking back at her. “I’m still the best
damn PvPer in the Shards. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”
“Good,” Angela says with a wicked grin on her face. “I’ll contact the council to arrange the tournament.”
Lance looks up at her. “Angela…perhaps we should consult in private before you—”
“I’ve made my decision,” she says forcefully and then she smirks at Rembrandt. “It’s perfect actually. Poetic even.” She then turns to me. “How long do you need?”
“What?” I say, still coming to grips with what just happened.
“To prepare, I need to give the council a timeframe. For the Gun Queen fight. How long do you need to prepare for it?”
My mind is spinning. I can barely focus with all this on my head right now. I still need to unlock a new class, get Veteran Points, ranks. “Two, three weeks, maybe?”
“I can push for two. You’ll have to work with that.”
“We’ll make it happen,” Rembrandt says.
“You’d better,” Angela says harshly. “The Gun Queen needs to be dead before the tournament, understood? I’m not making deals with a dead man. Get it done.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. This just went from bad to worse.
“Lance, call the council,” she says to the bioroid. “I want the meeting held first thing tomorrow morning. And you three…” She points to myself, Rembrandt, and Maxis. “You’ll be joining me.”
Chapter 22: Trouble Shoot
“An air scrubbing unit?”
Bruce Peters stared back at Carl incredulously.
The sonar tech merely shrugged his shoulders in his command chair behind the holographic display. “That’s what the search found.”
Two days of searching and the answer was more cryptic than the problem itself. Bruce stared at the hologram with the output written in green text, the image hovering in the frigid air of Carl’s Hab.
Subroutine “Trace Results” complete.
Elapsed time 19:25:45
