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I WALKED AN UNHURRIED CIRCLE around the starships in the hangar, looking them over with an owner’s eye. Two Tiopeo-Myhh II Miyelonian interceptors. Not the latest model. I had already encountered third-generation models, and heard about a fourth. But it was quite a widely used ship regardless, and large number of them furrowed the expanses of space. The pirates of the Pride of the Bushy Shadow had already dragged the interceptors apart in the expansive hangar, so they were no longer touching.
One of the interceptors needed its nose cone totally replaced, and the cockpit also needed work. The other starship was worse. The whole tail stabilizer set-up was crumpled. The chassis was full of holes, the paneling was torn, the longerons were topsy-turvy, the main thruster was literally hanging on by a thread, and all the cables and wires leading to it were severed. But still I was delighted. After we arranged for them to be squeezed in here, they could have been looking much worse. I am not a qualified Engineer, of course, but still I figured both interceptors could be put back in working order and honestly quite quickly.
Sure, I would need to get their captain’s keys – the flat crystal cards were hell to copy. But when the Meleyephatian Programmer Wizzz 889 was listing his professional competencies, he mentioned that he had reflashed captain’s keys before. I figured he said that for a reason. The strange Meleyephatian renegade was hoping that a famed pirate like Leng Gnat might find him more work. It wasn’t all that legal, but it did pay well. At the time, I pretended not to hear and didn’t draw any attention to it. But now I was keeping in mind that if I didn’t have a full set of keys by the end of the conflict with the Pride of the Bushy Shadow, I still had a way to use the captured spaceships.
Some might say I was counting my chickens before they hatched. The war with the Pride of the Bushy Shadow was still ongoing and anything was possible. But I had no doubt I could defend my take. Even if all fifty pirates respawned in this hangar at the same time, my robots could cut them all down in short order. But the Miyelonians were also not idiotic enough to set their respawn point in this hangar because they knew we were coming. That would leave them vulnerable to another immediate death which came with grave consequences. No, the pirates would definitely have taken pains to avoid that.
“Captain, look!” the Translator said as she walked up, her space suit already back in her inventory and dressed in light shorts. She extended me a luxuriant black tail.
Tail of Undi Ar Miyeyauu, level-148 Journalist (trophy).
Well crap... So in the end we did kill the neutral player. Bad. But on the other hand, what was this Journalist hoping for being on the battlefield and in a curtain of smoke to boot? To my eye, this was a very predictable outcome. And the blame for the Journalist’s death fell squarely on her own shoulders.
“Throw it out and say we saw nothing?” Gerd Ayni suggested, and at first I wanted to agree, but then I got a better idea:
“No Ayni, attach it to your bandanna! And pin up the five next most interesting trophies alongside it.”
The little orange kitty looked to me in fear, batting her eyes in incomprehension. I had to explain:
“Ayni, as promised, I will have a talk with the Great Priestess about your problems. But I think you’re approaching this all wrong by framing yourself as an unfortunate victim, despised by all, persecuted and slighted. Try a different tactic. You’re a proud member of the Miyelonian race, a successful adventurer with fame throughout the galaxy. You’re lightning-fast, dangerous, and quick to violence. You have a foreboding reputation. In the eyes of your race, you are the very incarnation of death! Many players try their whole lives to reach that level of recognition. So I say don’t try to fix anything. In fact, you should emphasize your reputation and use it to your advantage! Let everyone in the Universe think you cannot be so much as touched unpunished! And don’t avoid talking with other Miyelonians, either. In fact, go out to meet them. But all the while make sure you behave provocatively and cocky, as befits an astonishingly beautiful lady and the companion of famed pirate captain Leng Gnat!”
The little orange kitty gave a tortured smile, hoping all the while that I was joking. But I was deadly serious.
Successful Authority check!
And Gerd Ayni made up her mind! Her ears, previously pressed down in fear, shot back up. She bared her sharp teeth in a predatory grin, decisively took out a multi-colored bandanna and pinned the trophy tail to it.
“I’ll try, captain! And I’ll talk with that Journalist myself. I’ll explain to that whiner how stupid it was to get involved with a pirate pride that was going up against Team Gnat!”
Gerd T’yu-Pan and Eduard Boyko walked up. Both soldiers were overexcited:
“We finished gathering trophies. there’s some pretty nice little items – good guns and blades, plus one of the pirates dropped a wallet with five hundred crypto.”
“And I found a packet of this stupefying herb on one of the dead guys,” Supercargo Avan Toi joined the conversation. “It could get us five thousand crystals if we find someone willing to buy drugs.”
“Throw it out!” I demanded harshly. “The last thing we need now is problems with the local authorities for trafficking in illegal substances!”
Authority increased to 66!
The gloomy Supercargo didn’t dare disobey. Svetlana Vereshchagina walked over, the only newcomer to survive. And I noticed the Assassin was carrying a set of new blades and was again wearing the form-fitting Dark Faction thermoregulating suit. By the way... It occurred to me that Svetlana was wearing that suit right after the battle.
“Space suit not comfy enough?” I asked and received an unexpected reply:
“Not at all. It’s just that when you shouted that the gas was not hazardous during the battle, I immediately changed into this suit. It made me invisible to IR lenses they may have been using in the thick smoke. It’s a tactic that has proven itself in battle with the Dark Faction many times.”
Aha... Good explanation for why Svetlana survived, despite the lack of armor. The Miyelonians just couldn’t see her! It might seem like a small difference. Space suits also have good thermal isolation, but the Miyelonians still could see players in them. I’d have to keep that in mind for the future!
The respawned members of my squadron appeared in the corridor in a noisy crowd. The two captured starships predictably aroused interest and shouts of elation. The Engineer then immediately climbed inside to familiarize himself with the equipment and review the damage, accompanied by the Starship Pilot. Uline Tar quickly ran some calculations and said the pirates should be ending the war basically at any time. The value of the trophies we had taken, even in damaged form amounted to approximately four million crypto.
Just then, a voice rang out in my headphones. It was the Pilot we left back on the frigate:
“This is San-Doon Taki-Bu, over. The Meleyephatian Programmer has finished his work with the Immolators and went to sleep right in the cargo hold. The Navigator and I tried to wake him up, but he seems seriously intoxicated. And another thing... Gerd T’yu-Pan, I recommend you go into the real world to receive some important information for our captain!”
Important information? My wife probably had something to tell me. Gerd T’yu-Pan froze a step away, awaiting my permission. I confirmed, giving the leader of my boarding team permission to leave the game, and the huge Shocktroop’s figure froze motionless before disappearing thirty seconds later.
“Mayday!!!” Eduard Boyko yelped at the exact instant I noticed a new yellow marker on the mini-map. “Neutral player!”
“Do not shoot!!!” my shout stopped my team, who were surrounding the frightened and perplexed Miyelonian Journalist with guns drawn after she respawned right in the middle of the hangar. The giant Immolator also thundered and clanged over to the scene and, with all six barrels at the ready, stood waiting for my command.
The dark colored kitty sunk, her ears pressed back in fear and her paws covering her ears, but then she lit up when she saw me:
“Leng Gnat... I wasn’t expecting such a warm reception. I am Undi, a Journalist with a local news agency. I am quite a recognizable figure here on Kasti-Utsh III! I am now making a report on the official war between the Relict Faction and the Pride of the Bushy Shadow. And I would like to...”
She says so much and so quickly! With an impatient gesture, I put a finger to the Miyelonian’s mouth to stop the black kitty’s stream of words.
“Tini, search her! Confiscate all weapons and communications devices!”
“You don’t have the right! I’ll file a complaint...”
Then she tried to hit me!!! I had no choice but to act mentally. Gerd Undi froze motionless with her right clawed paw raised, just opening and closing her mouth soundlessly.
“I just saved your life,” I answered in a calm tone, not giving the Miyelonian control back over her body just yet. “If you had just hit me, you’d have changed to ‘enemy’ status that very second and my robot guards would have smoked you. Dying twice in a row is a serious blow to a character’s statistics. And don’t you worry about your property. We’ll give it all back safe and sound after the war is over. We won’t make you go anywhere either. Stick around if you like. If you have any questions, you can talk with Gerd Ayni.” I pointed at the orange Translator, who was stroking the black trophy tail on her head with a predatory smirk. “Or the other members of my team. As for me, I’m a bit tied up right now.”
Authority increased to 67!
The Miyelonian gave a silent nod to show that she accepted my conditions. By all appearances, we had just managed to avoid a conflict with the Pride of the Sweet Voice. Leaving our guest in the care of the orange Translator, I got back to looking over the interceptors. I quickly discussed my ideas for restoring the starships with Engineer Orun Va-Mart, then looked around for Vasily Filippov. The war with the pirates wasn’t over yet and I needed to get our next moves approved by the experienced military man. Attack the pirate ore freighter? Or do something else, for example find every piece of property connected with the Pride of the Bushy Shadow on this station, including things they were trying to sell? I needed to repay the pirates in kind for blocking my trades!
I discovered Vasily Filippov sitting pensively on an army backpack near the door into the corridor. The middle-aged man, by the looks of things, was voluntarily playing the role of sentry. I didn’t see much need for that. First of all, the Small Relict Guard Drone was already keeping watch, racing to and fro up and down the corridor. Second, my team was still in control of the video camera network and could see everything happening on the station.
Vasily Filippov’s dispirited look made for a stark contrast with the rest of the crew’s air of jubilance. I figured he, as the person who planned our strategy for the recent attack, was feeling guilty for the big mess (and it would be hard to call it anything else). I mean, things didn’t exactly go to plan and ended with significant losses. And yes, that was partially what had him in such a foul mood. But there was something else:
“Captain, Imran, Denni Marko and I searched both starships thoroughly, but we didn’t find any heavy weaponry. And the old Navigator told us the pirates had rocket complexes and plasma cannons. Where could that have all gone?”
Good question. That was a riddle that truly deserved some thought. You can’t exactly hide heavy weaponry in your pocket or backpack, yet the pirates didn’t bring anything like that into play in the recent battle. Did they haul it off somewhere else? But how if my team was surveilling all the corridors? We must have missed something. Something very important...
Unfortunately, I got distracted. Gerd T’yu-Pan was back in the game. With nary a glance at the huge Shocktroop, who looked afraid to even breath too loud in my presence, his eyes directed firmly at the floor, I realized something truly terrible must have happened.
“Captain... uhh, Coruler Gnat La-Fin, have you spoken with your wife Princess Minn-O La-Fin lately? Or your advisor, Mage Diviner Mac-Peu Un-Roi?”
Although the Shocktroop was trying to come at this very delicately and maintain distance, from his intonations and especially emotions, I was able to read positively savage fear in the pit of his stomach. He was afraid I’d be mad at him for bad news.
“Don’t say a thing! Just look me in the eyes!” I ordered... and was submerged in the thoughts of the decorated veteran.
“The collapse of the world as we know it. No one knows what to do. Every event on the whole planet has been canceled. Even the inter-directory wars have ceased. Seven days of mourning. No one knows what will happen next. Every TV channel is showing the same thing. The terror attack bloodbath. The Ruling Council of Mages has been wiped out. There are only three sorcerers left on the whole planet with Mage-Ruler status, and they’re all from the First Directory: head of state Coruler Gnat La-Fin, his wife Princess Minn-O La-Fin, and their Chief Advisor Mac-Peu Un-Roi. The three of them must swear in a new Ruling Council with all the most powerful remaining mages as quickly as possible. And no one has any idea what will happen if the representatives of the First Directory act stubborn and don’t do that. No one knows what to do. But one of the terrorists was taken alive – a native of the parallel world, a Paladin named Tamara. She is being interrogated now. Other members of the terror group Emancipation from Mage Tyranny are being arrested all around the globe, along with all individuals with any ties with or even sympathy for their cause. The arrests already number in the millions. The mage judges are working around the clock at breakneck pace. There were practically no innocents among those detained. And the sentence is almost always one and the same: the death penalty! Gerd Tamara herself might be executed. In the cruelest way possible, in five days on the central square of Pa-lin-thu, capital of the First Directory.”
* * *
MY EYES WENT DARK. I lurched and nearly fell over. Good thing the Shocktroop came over fast enough to grab my flagging body before it hit the floor. A set of strong hands (or paws?) fairly unceremoniously laid me down and raised my head. Someone capable and clearly experienced, opened my helmet’s faceguard...
Mysticism skill increased to level forty-five!
What a nasty smell! Smelling salts?! I waved it off and quickly distanced myself. The Medic Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa hunched over me in alarm. Other than the vial of smelling salts, the Miyelonian had a pneumatic injection gun glimmering in his hand and ready to go. I tried to reassure the Medic:
“It’s nothing to be afraid of. I just overtaxed myself psionically. My Magic and Endurance Points both went down to zero.”
The orange tomcat gave a nod of understanding, stashed the pneumatic needle and extended me a flask containing a piercingly violet bubbling liquid. I drank it down obediently. So sour! But it really did help! My endurance and magic bars started quickly filling up.
My thoughts returned to events in the magocratic world. The horror! I needed to get in touch with Minn-O right away and find out all the details. But then, as if I didn’t have enough troubles for one day, a hysterical scream rang out in my headphones. It was Ayukh the Navigator, who I’d left behind on the frigate:
“We’re under attack! Fifty pirates from the Pride of the Bushy Shadow! Somehow they got in from the corridor without us noticing!!! The ship is taking fire from heavy rockets and plasma cannons! A-a-a-ahhhhhhh!”
Damn! Damn! I hopped up and quickly got my team together. However, a message thirty seconds later from San-Dun showed that there was no longer any reason to hurry:
“Captain! The enemies have been eliminated by the two Immolators and the Jarg, who self-destructed in the middle of a group of them. But the thing is... Everything is on fire, everything is melting... Ayukh the Navigator died. Only the tail section and right part of the fuselage with the gunner bay survived. I’m afraid our frigate is beyond repair...”
ATTENTION!!! The reward for destroying your starship has been paid. Captain Leng Gnat’s danger rating has fallen to 1.
What?! My starship, the apple of my eye, which I’d invested such vast amounts of effort and funds into had been destroyed??? A howl of rage tore itself from my throat, which made the Medic and all the others take a step back. I immediately shot to my feet:
“Imran, Uline, Valeri, Eduard, Vasha Tushihh! You stay here! You’ll answer for these two interceptors with your life! Everyone else, follow me to hangar 10-107! We’re gonna capture the pirate ore freighter!”
But we were too late there as well. Before my crew could even run out of the corridor, a large portion of messages ran in front of my eyes:
ATTENTION!!! The Pride of the Bushy Shadow has agreed to pay the Relict Faction reparations of 4,000,000 crypto. War over!
ATTENTION!!! You have received 28,230 crypto* to your account. The remainder of the reparations has been paid as trophy property (please find list in attachment).
* payment amount agreed upon with the Administration of the Kasti-Utsh III station. If you do not agree, you may dispute it in a court of the Union of Miyelonian Prides.
ATTENTION!!! You may not declare war on the same opponent two times within a period of five standard days!
Fame increased to 81.
Authority increased to 68!
We won. But it came at a huge cost! A pyrrhic victory[2], there’s nothing else you can call it...
