“We’re ready, Lex! We’re entering hyperspace, headed home!”
Mission accomplished: The Education of Captain Tryd. You have given Tryd the Cruiser Inevitable without a single scratch on her hull. Your reward: Lora coupler unit. Speak to Tryd.
You have lost friendship status with the Liberium guild.
Gloom saluted, tucked his armor suit in his inventory, took out the cheapest blaster he had and blew his head off with it. Our job was done.
The pirate had taught me a lot during this raid and now taught one more lesson — you should always carry an extra couple blasters you don’t mind losing. I did as Gloom did and as soon as the game rendered Blood Island around me, my PDA buzzed with a call from Tryd.
“Small fry, I have a stowaway on board. Calls himself Aalor. He says he wants to talk with you. Anyway, you’ll get the Lora right after you deal with him. We can meet on board Wit-Verr’s ship. This is Captain Tryd — over and out!”
Chapter Twenty
Have you ever wondered how it feels to be the enemy of an entire galaxy? If you have, you should ask me. I would be happy to share my experience. Do you imagine it’s a feeling of terror? Or perhaps a kind of euphoria? Not at all! When my next batch of messages came in, I felt a surprise that verged on bewilderment. The intermittent threats were lost among the thousands of offers to cooperate. Countless players wanted to share their schemes and scams with me, yet the general gist of all the letters came down to one thing — my ultimate annihilation.
The Precians did not disappoint — all of Galactogon was now buzzing with various missions for capturing, killing the dread pirate Surgeon as well as locating his planet. I got a mission too: Mea Culpa. Just in case I decided that playing as the galactic villain wasn’t my cup of tea, the devs had given me a way out. All I had to do was betray my accomplices and reveal their whereabouts.
And yet, there were some positive moments in my situation as well. For example, my encounter with Aalor. The Liberium officer didn’t kill himself, hoping against hope that his cruiser’s capture was like some ill-conceived birthday surprise. You see, it so happened that he was celebrating his 30th birthday that day, and he figured that Vargen and I were in cahoots and merely playing a prank on him. After all, it just wasn’t possible for me to show up in the middle of Liberium’s home base, much less steal a ship from it. It was a rare pleasure indeed to look my enemy in the eyes and watch them grow wider and more desperate as I offered to call his boss to prove to him that his beloved ship was really mine. When he did realize the hard truth, there followed an ornate hodgepodge of abuse, threats, flattery, wheedling and finally appeals to my better nature. I did not understand why Tryd insisted that I meet with Aalor. When I got tired of hearing the same thing for the hundredth time, I took out a blaster and shot the Inevitable’s former captain, solving the problem of his presence. My new boss nodded in satisfaction and handed me the Lora. At least this business was done with.
Achievement unlocked: Doom Child. You have assembled the Vengeance. You are now a threat to all of Galactogon. You are feared: -10% discount on all goods.
Your rapport with all empires has decreased.
In other words, nothing changed. No one loved me anyway. Tryd immediately lost any and all interest in my person — something I can’t say I was sorry about — and went off to work on his new cruiser. And Wit-Virr, whom I reported to as ordered, did not react at all, immediately issuing me a new quest:
“One of our main bases is located in the Praline system, Confederate space. We haven’t been able to establish a connection to it. We need to understand what happened to it and bring it back to an operational state. You have four days. Your reward will be the contents of the base’s third warehouse. Everything in there is yours. Now jump to it, pirate!”
New mission available: A Praline Pirate. Recover the Brotherhood’s home base. Reward: Contents of third warehouse.
I liked the Bufondian’s approach. Want a reward? Go and get it. If you fail — no reward for you. That’s all, love. Before heading off, I decided to take a break and take care of some of my own affairs. For example, to find the answer to the third riddle of the cylinder.
“Guten Tag, Herr Eine — do you have a minute? I need your help.”
The German and I met in the middle of nowhere. The collector did not wish to compromise himself by revealing his close relationship with a terrible pirate, so we avoided all planets and met each other in empty space.
After the obnoxious rigmarole of exchanging pleasantries, discussing the space weather, the various imperial political happenings and all the other dumb trivia, Eine finally got down to business:
“I have Knowledge about ze Cylinder. Moreover, I have ze Answer to one of ze Questions. I vould like to know vhat I vill receive for my Help?”
“Isn’t our mutually beneficial relationship sufficient on its own?” I made a show of being surprised, but then nodded to Eunice. She immediately laid out our offering on the table. Everything we’d gotten from the pirates and couldn’t find a use for. Eine twirled a couple items in his hands, but almost immediately tossed them back onto the table.
“Zese are not unique Objects. I understand zat ze Cylinder is an important Issue for Herr Panzer. I vould like ze Orbship. You give me your Ship and I tell you ze Answer to ze Riddle.”
There was an unpleasant pause. I was sure that Eine was telling the truth — that he had the answer, but I wasn’t about to hand over Warlock to him…What a pain is this guy! A virtual ship and crew or a billion real credits? I wasn’t ready for such a question, since the billion was still hypothetical.
“I see zat my Proposal has caused your Displeasure. A Compromise is possible to conclude the Contract. Herr Alexis vill remain Captain of ze Orbship, but as a hired Captain. I vill become ze Owner of ze Orbship.”
“I have a counter offer,” replied Eunice. “Brainiac, put it on the screen.”
An image of a planet surrounded by Uldan orbital stations appeared on the screen. We were finally making use of Lumara’s present — the last trump card I’d acquired before my wife’s return. No one makes me presents like this anymore. To the contrary, everyone just tries to take them away.
“We will take you with us on our raid and offer you everything we can find on this planet. With the exception of information — that will be shared among everyone.”
Eine began to ponder. Shutting his eyes, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. Another pause followed, but this time it was impossible to call it unpleasant. The word ‘tedious’ fit much better.
“You have many curious Possessions, Herr Alexis. I accept your Offer. In addition to ze Planet, you must also give me zese Items here — zen, I vill give you ze Answer to your Riddle.”
The cunning collector was trying to eke out an extra bonus after all. Eunice tried to barter with him, but the German remained unshakeable. Understanding perfectly well that we needed his knowledge, the collector firmly stood his ground. We were forced to agree to his demands.
Eine swept the items from the table and into his inventory, read out a sequence of numbers and digits, and the third riddle’s light lit up green. All that remained was Mercaloun’s riddle.
“Brainiac, set course for the system with all the orbital stations. We need to figure out what it is!”
Eine, naturally, came along with us, ordering his pilot to return to his base on his own. Now that’s one place I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing. A secret planet full of rare items. What could be more valuable for a pirate?
“Exiting hyperspace now. Scanning in progress. Warning! It’s our old friend again!”
When he saw the battlesphere flying beside us, the German plastered his face to the screen, his eyes lit up and he bit his lower lip in unconcealed ecstasy. What an odd bunch these collectors.
“Captain, we have received a message: ‘Your access to this system must be confirmed!’ They are contacting us using Uldan frequencies. There are no responses to
my return requests.”
The orbital stations remained motionless, but the instruments showed that they maintained a lock on us. A single shot would be enough to send us to respawn.
We exchanged glances. No one had any idea what ‘access’ in this case meant or where we could get it. No one — but me.
“Brainiac, I’m taking the controls. Everyone buckle up. When I give the go-ahead, everyone man your battle stations.”
To emphasize that I was serious, I fastened my armor suit to the seat, becoming effectively a part of the ship. Further clicks sounded around me. Eunice and Eine obediently performed my orders.
I cracked my neck a couple of times. An old habit I’d acquired back in meatspace. Joints don’t crack here in the game, yet as far as my physical body was concerned, such stretches always helped loosen my tendons before some important task. Clenching and releasing my fists several times, also more from psychological stress than physiological, I placed my open palm on the orbship’s 3D model. Manual pilot mode had been activated.
“Gunner — fire at will. Snake — tend to our shields. Don’t let them finish us off. Don’t waste any torpedoes. They’re useless in this fight. Here we go!”
I abruptly changed course, rushing for the battlesphere. Our taciturn orangutan responded instantly — our blaster cannons came to life, rhythmically pouring deadly plasma at the enemy. If the Uldan was surprised, he didn’t show it. Three EM shots hit exactly on target, along with a dozen plasma bolts — without any effect. The battlesphere blinked and reappeared on our starboard. I banked Warlock hard, up and to the left. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the point of space where we had just been turn into a ball of fire that instantly collapsed on itself. The battlesphere wasn’t playing around — he had attacked us for real that time. Turn left. Down. Speed a hundred, turn right and abrupt stop. Another fireball bloomed right in front of our prow. If we had kept going, we would’ve been in the middle of that. Now, right. Down. Use the small moon to screen us and assess the situation.
The battlesphere didn’t fall behind, jumping randomly through the system and mercilessly firing all its guns. Our shields coped with the EM and beam cannons, and I managed to dodge the torpedoes. For now, at any rate. The orbital stations watched our waltz indifferently. From the perspective of these colossi, we were doing everything correctly. I was proving my right to land on the planet by fighting an enemy much stronger than us.
Down. To the left. Now reverse thrust! Accelerate to one hundred and bank left. The battlesphere appeared starboard again, forcing me to fly down and to the left, increasing the distance between us. The enemy continued absorbing our cannons’ fire without any effect. However, I had realized something, and the realization could be helpful. The battlesphere wasn’t as ‘unpredictable’ as it seemed.
I made another sharp bank, seeking to test my hunch — the battlesphere keeps appearing on the flank facing the sun and flies right at us raking us with plasma and torpedoes. As soon as I pull any chaotic maneuver, the enemy teleports and repeats this trick. And there are exactly twenty seconds between the jumps. Enough time to figure out some strategy.
“Brainiac — when I give the order, I want you to launch three cacodemons at this point there. Tell them to eat the enemy ship’s most vital systems first. On the count of three! One. Two. Three! Now!”
One nice thing about dealing with the locals was that they never asked too many questions. If the captain orders you to launch three furry toothy creatures into space…you just do it. No one even wondered why I was about to throw away three of the five presents Mercaloun had bestowed on us. Then again all these questions could be saved for later, if there even would be a ‘later.’ I cut sharply to the right away from the sun, forcing the battlesphere into a blunder. Further evidence that the ship was being piloted by an AI instead of a human. Our opponent vanished and reappeared exactly where I expected him — portside this time. A handful of clicks from my cacodemons. Rushing in pursuit, the battlesphere rammed them with its prow as if they were the ordinary space debris that one encountered all over Galactogon. No captain would pay attention to such trifles, especially in the middle of a dogfight.
Only the cacodemons weren’t space debris. And they weren’t interested in being scattered. Latching onto the hull like magnets, Mercaloun’s minions began to perform their main function: eating whatever was in front of them. Three small holes appeared in the battlesphere and my heart stopped in my chest. Here was the moment of truth. For a few minutes nothing happened, and we continued weaving about as before, but then the enemy ship began to lose speed. This happened so abruptly that you’d think an engine had failed. I doubled back and went on the attack.
The battlesphere wasn’t about to give up. A dozen deadly torpedoes rushed in my direction. The enemy’s cannons poured plasma without stopping, turning three of our own beam cannons into melted pieces of raq. EM blasts struck my torpedo autoloader. The Uldan knew where to shoot. We had certainly slowed him down, but a direct confrontation still cost me too dearly — I had lost almost all my weapons.
But ‘almost all’ isn’t the same as ‘all!’
“Brainiac, we have to survive!” I shouted through the adrenaline, squeezing the maximum out of the ship and adjusting our course. Let’s see how the locals respond to this! The gunner did his utmost, resorting to a straightforward single stroke roll for once, but what remained of our blaster cannons wasn’t enough — four torpedoes got through our point defenses. Hansa’s armor plating held on, however — we took a direct hit.
“Everyone brace for impact!”
“Collision imminent!” warbled Brainiac. “Collision immi — ”
The impact of the two ships slamming into each other was so powerful that our chairs’ fixtures failed and three bodies clad in armor suits splayed out over the screens, crushing them as if they were apple pie.
“Brainiac, deploy the marine!” I croaked as my medunit struggled to cope with the debuffs. The rhino’s roar could be heard on the other side of Galactogon. He could not move. A terse report from the computer confirmed my hunch:
“Request invalid.”
“Recall the minions. I want a damage report ASAP.”
I basically no longer had a ship. The hull was crumpled and the engineer would not be able to repair it. Respawning was our only option. The engineer herself, like the gunner, had lost her functionality, becoming a fixed part of the interior. In effect, the two had already gone off to respawn and were only waiting for the ship to do the same. Only the rhino had survived, but there wasn’t much use from him. There was half of him left — the other half having been flattened to a pancake.
I heard a groan beside me — Eunice was coming to her senses. Eine lay motionless on the floor. Only the fact that he had not yet become a loot crate suggested that the German was still on this plane of existence. But we could deal with him later.
“Follow me, Eunice!” I croaked, scraping myself off the wall. My armor suit was damaged, but I did not dare change it in the current conditions. All the oxygen had leaked out of Warlock. The lower portion of my armor didn’t work, so I had to crawl on my hands. Brainiac — who had lost his voice — formed a passage, allowing me to climb into the battlesphere. Three satiated cacodemons passed me, headed in the other direction. The nibblers weren’t ecstatic about having to head back when there was still so much free food around, but an order was an order.
The enemy ship was ten times larger than mine, but this hadn’t helped him. The orbship’s hull had been stronger. We had smashed our way almost to the center of the battlesphere, crushing the reactor and engineering bay in the process. As soon as the air sensors flashed green, I changed my armor suit and grimaced in displeasure — my medunit continued its recovery procedures, pumping me full of drugs to remove debuffs as soon as possible. I was faced with a dilemma — should I go back after Eunice, or forge onward to the bridge deck? Thankfully, a hoarse wheeze in the intercom answered this question. Wheezing is good. W
heezing is a sign of life. If she’s alive then she can reach a safe area on her own…
Pushing aside the fallen panels, I made my way onto the bridge. My blasters were ready to show the local captain how serious I was, only there was no one to show anything to. A shimmering crate lay in the captain’s chair. The Uldan had not survived the impact.
With trembling hands, I touched the crate. Only six items, but all of them legendries: an armor suit covered in arabesques, a blaster, a mysterious device that resembled a disk, a perfect metal sphere, a perfect metal cube and a key. A thick, solid copper key to a pirate’s treasure chest. I remember seeing one like it before in an ancient movie.
Access granted to the Emir system.
I didn’t bother celebrating my newest acquisition. There wasn’t any time. My gut told me that I had a few minutes left to spare. It wasn’t clear until what, but I knew to hurry as fast as I could.
“Brainiac, buddy, I need you to make an effort.” I pulled out the remote terminal and connected it to the battlesphere’s mainframe. “Crack her!”
A Check for a Billion Page 33
