Training skill increased to level eighteen!
I tossed a gaze over the pop-up system message. Yes, my recently taken skill was improving and, along with it, my levelling progress. Although it may not have been as obvious as I might have liked, the +18% experience for all game actions was having a definite impact.
“Let’s land there!” I pointed Imran to a small platform for aircraft and antigravs jutting off a vertical wall of the Hive of Tintara tower. The Gladiator didn’t ask any questions and brought the shuttle in for a daring landing between two luxurious aircraft bearing the Execution rune on their hulls.
Two “crocodiles” on the platform, armored and armed to the teeth, exchanged unconfident glances, clearly not knowing what they were supposed to do with their new unexpected guests. Seemingly, we had landed in the wrong place and this platform was not intended for outsiders. However, my Leng status and the Miyelonian’s rank of Gerd must have dumbfounded the two rank-and-file guardsmen.
Successful Authority check!
The level-77 Sentry honked out something, which Gerd Ayni immediately translated:
“He’s asking whether we have a scheduled meeting.”
“Tell him we do. I have an old debt to the Hive of Tintara, and I want to repay it as quickly as possible. I don’t make a habit of carrying debt.”
The guards again exchanged perplexed glances. They clearly did not like this situation, and the two metal drones cutting circles above them had them both on edge. One of the “crocodiles” honked something into his helmet microphone, obviously consulting with someone more senior. The answer kept us waiting. It was around three minutes before a voice rang out from the intercom next to the doors in flawless Miyelonian:
“Leng Gnat, your wish to pay a debt of honor inspires sincere respect. You and the individuals accompanying you may enter the building. You will be escorted to the meeting location at once.”
Chapter Fifteen. A Mission of Epic Difficulty
WE FOLLOWED a small Trillian through the corridors of the huge building, and she did not have the usual text indicating name, class and level over her head. In fact, I fairly quickly realized such clear indicators of identity were a rarity in the Hive of Tintara building.
Hard to say what I was expecting in the skyscraper of an organization with such a sinister reputation, but the reality left me somewhat disappointed. Hallways, flying courier drones, an endless string of offices, some kind of data center with a large number of terminals worked by Trillian specialists. Sure, it was rich. Ornate even. The pleasant aroma of some kind of perfume lingered in the air, but still... it was all too ordinary or something. No thuggish cutthroats haunting your every step, no torture chambers for straightening out unpaid debts, not even portraits of gang leaders wearing gold chains around powerful armored necks. This seemed more like the office of some average corporation rather than that of a villainous space mafia.
Our small procession didn’t attract any interest from the employees, even though we were the only non-Trillians in the place. None of the office workers so much as turned to look in our direction or showed us a clawed finger. We simply went unnoticed. All the employees were just wrapped up in their work.
Fame increased to 95.
Uhh... I may have gotten ahead of myself. So, they were noticing us after all, though nobody was showing it. And meanwhile, our escort stopped abruptly in front of one of the many unremarkable doors and rasped something out.
“Leng Gnat and his companions are requested to enter,” Gerd Ayni translated and, switching from Geckho to Russian, added, “by the way, captain, we were being escorted by a Trillian female. A young, unmarried one at that. And by local standards, she’s very pretty. That’s a good sign — it means the Trillians consider you a highly esteemed guest. And traditionally the girl needs to be thanked. Just give her a little token of your appreciation. A small souvenir or a handful of change.”
I didn’t have any souvenirs or handfuls of change on me and, to my great shame, I had yet to so much as see Trillian money in person, so I went digging in my inventory and found a few Geckho monetary crystals. As bad luck would have it, they were all high denomination. The smallest one I had was worth five hundred. But I didn’t have much choice. If it was supposed to be a handful, I was gonna give a handful. I sprinkled the small handful of red faceted stones into the hand of the armored beauty, who had raised the upper half of her body. The Trillian female responded with silence, not showing in any way that she appreciated the highly generous gift. Seemingly, she didn’t even know what Geckho crystals were. Too bad. I could have found a better use for all that cash.
Following the rest of my companions, I entered the office. The Small Relict Guard Drones nimbly slipped in just before the door closed. Okay. The furnishings in this room, immersed in dim light, were more like what I was expecting to see in the Hive of Tintara’s lair. The corners were adorned with tall marble statues of mighty Trillian warriors holding clubs and bludgeons in their hands. The walls held a rich collection of cudgels, brass knuckles and other assorted bashing weapons. Bladed weaponry was clearly not in favor here, which was no surprise given the Trillians’ bodies were covered in impenetrable sheets of bone.
I saw empty bronze armor suits made for six-legged creatures of truly gigantic proportions. On the far wall there was a huge portrait of some eminent Trillian holding a brightly glowing ball over his head with his upper pair of limbs. Next to the portrait was a small altar with a brazier smoking with some kind of incense.
In the very center of the room, on a heap of pillows lounged a huge and corpulent Trillian. He was lying belly up, his two lowermost pairs of legs crossed on his torso, while the upper pair held a three-quart glass full of gurgling and bubbling liquid with a long transparent straw. Furthermore, the Trillian was wearing no clothing, but he didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. I had never before seen such a large Trillian. He was twenty feet long at least, while his mass... I sized up his voluminous gut and the thick bone growths on his back... must have been a ton and a half or even two. The bronze armor suits against the wall, which I first thought were colossal, were actually just the right length for the office occupant. But at the waist, if the six-legged crocodile’s massive paunch could even be called that, he clearly would not have fit.
Interestingly, I could actually read his character info, too:
Gerd Mokh Uzsssh. Trillian. Green Trillian subrace. Level-188 Analyst.
Green? If my eyes did not deceive me, the hide of this huge space “crocodile” was of a saturated pink hue, with the exception of his light-yellow belly. Next to this giant, humans seemed tiny and pitiful. A ghastly thought occurred to me that I would be a perfect fit for the monster’s toothy maw, and he would have had no problem swallowing me up whole. But what the hell was I thinking? I shuddered sharply and chased off the ghoulish fantasies. Trillians were not particularly aggressive creatures and had never been known to eat humans.
Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred fifteen!
Seemingly, a drug of some kind was mixed into the incense in the brazier, designed to loosen visitors’ self-control and tongues. I thought about it and, despite the risk of offending the Trillian, lowered my helmet’s faceplate and turned on the air filtration system. Imran and Ayni followed my lead. Gerd Mokh wasn’t the least bit offended and seemingly gave a kindhearted grin. Without getting up off his cushion, the Analyst started off speaking in good clean Geckho:
“Leng Gnat, I’m delighted to greet such an illustrious Free Captain in my modest office! And you have Imran with you — a powerful human warrior whose outstanding achievements earned him a commemorative armor suit from Kung Waid Shishish himself. I’ve heard all about you. And you’ve brought along...” the Trillian spent a long time staring at Gerd Ayni, then turned his toothed snout my way, “admit it, is this the same entity who killed the Great Priestess of the Miyelonian race? Or is this the real Miyelonian?”
“I’d have had the decency not to d
rag a Morphian to a system where they are not allowed by law,” I answered, trying not to demonstrate how surprised I was by the Analyst’s awareness of the state of affairs in my crew.
“That was the right move!” Gerd Mokh Uzsssh agreed. “After the mayhem the Morphians caused on An-Urosssh III they are not welcome in Trillian space.”
I knew nothing of the events on An-Urosssh III, although my acquaintance Fox had told me the Morphian race had been sentenced to extermination not only by the Meleyephatians, but the Trillians as well. And after my close discussions with Vaa and Fox, I could easily allow that the Trillians might have had a good reason to do so. Meanwhile, the huge Analyst started speaking in an apologetic tone:
“Unfortunately, I know nothing of the etiquette norms and traditions that prevail among your branch of the human race, Leng Gnat. Do I need to feed important guests before we talk? Are any preliminary ceremonies necessary? Must we be on our feet? If so, I have to inform you that I have long been unable to stand on my hind legs due to my weight. But, Free Captain, you must admit that you yourself know nothing of Trillian traditions. Isn’t that right? And you purchased the Trillian girl by accident, out of ignorance?”
I had bought a Trillian girl??? When? And who? Ayni the Miyelonian answered my unasked questions:
“The money my captain gifted to the young girl that escorted us here was significantly more than common courtesy would dictate. And by all appearances, it was even higher than the dower the incubator that hatched her egg appointed.”
“Exactly right, wise Gerd Ayni,” the Trillian analyst agreed. “Now, by all legal standards the Trillian girl belongs to you, Leng Gnat! Good choice, I approve. I considered taking that female for myself, but the price stung just a bit too much. Her genetic line is pure, her body proportions ideal, her loyalty to her master absolute, and her compliance with standards of conduct is flawless. Her statistics are spread evenly with a slight slant toward Agility. She has undergone full preparation courses to be a servant and melee fighter. Her game class is double: Chef-Assassin, level sixty-seven. And with no name, you can even decide what to call her.”
It took some effort to pick my jaw up off the ground. Holy crap! So that was how I accidentally bought myself a crocodile, a lady croc even. And she was pretty by her race’s standards, and able to cook and kill with the best of them. But what was I to do with her now? And by the way, double game class? How was that possible on a technical level? I considered it and remembered that I had once seen a player like that before. San-Sanych, the “bus driver” for my original faction had the double game class of Mechanic-Driver but, back then, I thought it was just one profession.
“I strongly suggest you not refuse her, my captain,” Gerd Ayni, switching to Russian, cautioned me against yet another rash action. “Rejecting a female you have just purchased will cause a serious loss of Authority, but that isn’t even the worst part. If a player is rejected right after purchase, the incubator that raised them suffers a severe drop in prestige and will lose clients because of it. And the owners of the incubator will be entitled to sue the purchaser to compensate their losses, both financial and reputational.”
The Analyst waited patiently for us to say our fill. Meanwhile he drained the three-quart glass in one gulp and set it under an apparatus that immediately began refilling the vessel with alcohol. Then he touched his stomach with the long transparent straw, and I saw an electric shock jump out. One of the Small Relict Guard Drones circling the room was intrigued and flew up closer, hovering just a yard away from Gerd Mokh Uzsssh.
“How delightful!” the huge Trillian wanted to extend a clawed hand toward the drone but froze midway and turned his huge toothy head my direction. “Leng Gnat, may I take a closer look at your drone?”
I set the drone to passive mode and temporarily marked the Analyst as an ally, forbidding it from attacking him. The Drone obediently landed on the Trillian’s outstretched open palm. Gerd Mokh Uzsssh looked my drone over then smirked, revealing a toothy maw and said pensively:
“I have been made aware that, several days ago in the H9045/WE star system, the Meleyephatians discovered the wreckage of a Relict drone. I suspect that, even though we are now very far from that system, that event is directly connected with your now having a second ancient drone. And I suppose there would also be no use asking just how you were able to reach Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh on a starship with no hyperspace drive.”
“What makes you say that?” Then came my turn to give a knowing smile. “No one said you couldn’t ask. In fact, I might as well tell you — I was towed here by a mobile laboratory of the ancient Relict race. I parted ways with it here in the Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh system. But it would in fact be no use to ask where the laboratory is currently located. First and foremost because I myself do not know.”
“And yet there can be no doubt that you have some way of communicating with the Relicts...” the Trillian fell into a long silent pause. For my Analyst, that usually meant he was making some intricate calculation. At the very least that was what it meant for my Jarg. A while later, Gerd Mokh Uzsssh shuddered:
“Okay, Free Captain Leng Gnat. I have reviewed your obligations to the Hive of Tintara. And I can offer you your choice of three assignments to repay them. One is fairly easy. It will merely disengage you, free you of your debt to our organization. The second is harder and, if you take it, you stand to come out a bit ahead. And finally, the third...”
The Trillian picked up the glass, already filled to the brim, and again drained the container of alcohol in a single gulp. He focused his independently spinning eyes on me and continued:
“I would classify the third as a mission of epic difficulty. And if, Free Captain Leng Gnat, you in fact no longer have a way of communicating with the mobile Relict laboratory, completing this assignment will be entirely impossible. But the reward, if you can complete it, would be a true king’s ransom. And I am not exaggerating in the slightest nor employing any flash or hyperbole. As a matter of fact, this assignment comes straight from the Par-Poreh royal family,” the Trillian pointed his transparent stick at the huge portrait of a Trillian holding a glowing ball aloft. “Furthermore, if you succeed, you will become a friend of the Hive of Tintara and always be welcome in any of our establishments. You will also then be entitled to wear our emblem on your armor and emblazon it on your starship. So then, what is your decision, Leng Gnat?”
I pondered nervously. Disengage as quickly as possible from this space mafia and forget our dealings like a bad dream? Or take on a more difficult mission and earn some cash? After all, I needed finances badly. Or... it was actually scary to consider the “mission of epic difficulty.” It would probably be like the mission to kill the Great Priestess of the Miyelonian race, which brought with it a cascade of consequences leading all the way to the great space war.
“Could you perhaps tell me what the assignments are so I could know what I’m agreeing to?”
But the huge Trillian shook his head:
“No. I sympathize, Leng Gnat, but those are the rules. The only ones who may know the interests of the Hive of Tintara are those to whom those interests directly pertain. All I can say is that if you choose the third assignment, we will help you fill the vacant Gunner position on your frigate. And we will turn down the request of an influential entrepreneur, who you inadvertently aggrieved when you hijacked his platinum mine.”
Well, well! So, the owner of the extraction plant on the asteroid in the Solar System finally rears his ugly head. And he ran to the Hive of Tintara to complain about me. But as for the vacant Gunner seat... what was the Analyst even talking about? Tamara the Paladin already had two excellent Gunners, and that was basically all I needed. I told Gerd Mokh Uzsssh just that.
“That is so, Leng Gnat. But rumors have been swirling that the Geckho will soon be summoning their vassals to join the war with the Meleyephatian Horde. And that you, my Human guest, will be leading one of the vassal armies. And a Meleyephatian, even one from a nest of re
negades who is infinitely grateful to his captain for the rejuvenation, would never be willing to go to war against his own kind.”
Damn! That was actually a good point. How hadn’t that occurred to me yet? After all, the line of reasoning could not have been easier to follow. And it meant the Meleyephatian Gunner Gerd Eeeezzz 777 would very soon be leaving my crew. In that case, I would in fact require a replacement. But what need did I have for some so and so appointed by the Hive of Tintara? With such a big long waitlist clamoring to serve in my crew, I could fill the Gunner vacancy myself no problem.
“We will not be providing you some mere ‘so and so,’“ the Analyst seemed somewhat offended when I told him my thoughts. “Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh, a Trillian by race, is the best Gunner in Kung Waid Shishish’s entire Third Strike Fleet. A true star, one of a kind. His impeccable shooting can even change the outcome of a fight that is shaping up catastrophically. It isn’t every tong someone of his caliber his born. Anyhow, Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh has recently lost his job due to a conflict in his crew. My compatriot was accused of spying for the Trillians. And especially vexing is the fact that the accusations were entirely contrived. And I should know. Then again, as a powerful psionic, it would be quite easy for Leng Gnat to read the Gunner’s mind and put my assertion to the test.”
Aces High (Reality Benders Book #6) LitRPG Series Page 14
