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A GOOD DAY, which would go down as a rare moment of rest away from the game and all its obligations and concerns. It had been a long time since I had the chance to properly reset and to distract myself for even a few hours from the Meleyephatians, galactic war, space pirates and other such worries. And so, the first item on my agenda was visiting a cozy restaurant with an exotic menu accompanied by two beautiful women where we made nice conversation while fending off the Shadow Panther under the table begging for her share. After that we went on a stroll through the huge space station, taking in all its fascinating locations and points of interest. Then Ayni brought us to a light show performed by a troupe of Cyanids — huge intelligent bubbles which could, as it turned out, swallow differently colored glowing balls and move them around inside their bodies, walk through toxic smoke to change their color, and swallow flaming torches without getting hurt. In the end, the Miyelonian wanted to drag Valeri and I to some gladiator fights as well — something of a “challenge cup” where impervious and lightning fast Crystallids would take on anyone that wanted to fight them without causing serious bodily harm. But I had already had my fill of new experiences and refused.
A vivid, big day. I was annoyed, however, by the fact that the station’s inhabitants were paying close attention to me and my companions. Some made gestures with their paws, others took selfies with us in the background, and others still made utterly tactless attempts to butt into our conversations. There were also gruff tense Miyelonians wearing white First Pride armor following us everywhere. They also kept me from relaxing and feeling truly at ease. By the end of the day, I was tired of all that attention and had come to the firm decision that Kasti-Utsh III — although it was an interesting place, would never truly feel like home to me and I needed to get off this station as soon as an opportunity presented itself.
After bidding Valeri and Ayni farewell, and reflashing both of their electronic keys so they could freely visit my residence again, I headed into my virt pod. Entering the game.
...
Fame increased to 105.
Fame increased to 106.
You have reached level one hundred four!
You have received three skill points (total points accumulated: nine).
How amusing to level up right as I entered the game. That progress must have all been because of the sudden Fame boost. But overall there weren’t actually quite as many messages as I was expecting and they primarily all revolved around the stormy uptick in my character’s Fame — the video of the living Relict and Free Captain Leng Gnat was being viewed by more and more inhabitants of the galaxy all the time. That I could understand, but two messages stood out from the rest:
ATTENTION!!! Leader of the Human-25 Faction Valentina Koval proposes unification with the Relict Faction on the following terms: the Human-25 Faction shall join the Relict Faction in its entirety. Do you accept? (Yes/No)
ATTENTION!!! The monitoring program temporarily acting as leader of the Syam Tro VII Refuge proposes unification with the Relict Faction on the following terms: The Syam Tro VII Refuge shall join the Relict Faction in its entirety. Do you accept? (Yes/No)
As for the first message, I had no questions — the Russian scientific faction, after suffering a devastating onslaught by NPC Orcs had finally come around to bringing its players into the Relict Faction (or more likely got the external curators to agree to it). But the second message caught me off guard, and I didn’t even know how to react.
I quickly agreed to the first request — who could say? What if the H25 Faction’s players had no way of entering the game at the moment and had already started losing statistic points? And so, “Yes!”
ATTENTION!!! The Relict Faction’s player limit has increased from 33,756 to 33,843.
Just 87 more players. That meant the Human-25 Faction had just one level-one node. Frankly, not much. But at least they had a claim and their players weren’t in danger of dying in the real.
But the second message made me stall out a bit. What exactly was the Syam Tro VII Refuge??? Where even was it in the galaxy, and what races lived there? And there was some “program temporarily acting as leader...” Somehow suspicious. What if that was done to purposely obscure the true leader of this “refuge?” If I agreed to let this unknown band join my faction, I’d get a bunch of players of unknown levels and ranks, and a few of them could even be higher profile than myself. Then I’d be replaced as leader, wresting away control of my faction so they could quickly steal and sell off all the Relict Faction’s assets (bank accounts, construction materials, starships and everything else of even remote value). Then I’d be left out of the picture with my pockets inside out. Nope, not gonna happen! I left the question unanswered for the time being.
On to the next problem — all my unused skill points. It was time to do something with them because I’d gotten the first of them over a day ago, and they would now burn up if my character died. I didn’t stray from my established levelling plan, still aiming to meet the requirements for the Tachyon Bender and bring up my lagging skills: six points straight into Medium Armor. Let’s get it up to one hundred!
Medium Armor skill increased to level one hundred!
ATTENTION! You may choose your first specialization in the Medium Armor skill.
Splendid! So then, what kind of perks did the game system have to offer?
Reduce the weight of worn armor by a third... Useful, of course, although that perk would be more relevant to heavy armor users. Increase armor resilience by 50%, meaning it would be harder to crack. If armor couldn’t be repaired, that would be the most useful perk. However, given the Kirsan repair bots could fix my ancient armor suit, it was pretty much garbage, no use at all. Increase armor stat by a quarter. Now that was very, very valuable and I might have taken it, but the next option was much more to my liking: Increase energy shield capacity by 10% and bring its regeneration speed up by the same amount.
That’s the one for me! My Listener Energy Armor’s shield was my main layer of defense — it’s ability to absorb 14,420 units of damage made Gnat’s life much easier and more comfortable, because my character only actually had 2,325 hitpoints on its own. In terms of survival, increasing the capacity of my forcefield by 10% was actually equivalent to increasing my Hitpoints by 60%. I’ll take it! The capacity of the ancient armor suit’s forcefield instantly went up to 15,862. I was getting pretty tough. I could now survive being shot with an infantry blaster almost fifteen times!
The remaining three points I invested into Danger Sense, pulling that useful skill up to 97. That was all, done with pressing matters. I could enter the game. I appeared in the captain’s berth of Tamara the Paladin — the same place where I’d exited into the real world. Run a scan! I need to know what is going on around me.
So, the repair works were already complete, the Trillian technicians were packing up their implements and gear. I minimized the mini-map and carefully checked my ship for surveillance equipment and other surprises they might have left behind. Nope, all clear. But then where was my crew? On the ship I saw only markers for the two Engineers and Supercargo. On the bridge only the Navigator, and on the gangway Destroying Angel and Kisly were standing watch. I went out to get to the bottom of things.
As it turned out, Gerd T’yu-Pan, commander of the boarding team had called an unplanned training session and taken everyone else to an unoccupied neighboring hangar. Okay then, a noble endeavor. I approve! I headed over to watch, and maybe even take part. Gerd Ayni and Valeri appeared in the game after me and also went over to practice. Well, well. Even the Relict was training alongside the rest! And the first surprise — among my troopers I noticed a Trillian I hadn’t met before! A huge fifteen-foot-long crocodile crammed into a heavy armor suit was on the floor doing pushups in time with the others.
Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh. Trillian. Gray Trillian subrace. Level-202 Gunner.
Well, well! A living legend — the best shot in the whole Third Strike Fleet! I was especially impressed by the crooked purple band on the Trillian’s armor — a particularly highly-valued and esteemed decoration among the Geckho, equivalent to the Gold Star given to “Heroes” back in Russia. I walked up closer. Gerd T’yu-Pan, commander of the boarding team, saw his captain approaching and commanded everyone to stop working out and stand at attention. But I ordered them to ignore me and keep training, taking just First Mate Gerd Uline Tar. The sweaty Geckho woman removed the weight bands from her limbs and belt, then walked aside after me so we wouldn’t bother the others.
“Our trainer is just brutal today!” the Trader griped, her fur so soaked with sweat you could wring it out. “We’ve been warming up for the last half ummi and we’re already pushing the limits of our physical capabilities. Minn-O started feeling unwell, consulted with the Medic and was let go. But everyone else still has sparring and teamwork exercises ahead of them.”
I paid no mind to the Trader’s whining and pointed at the newcomer.
“I’m in shock, too!” Gerd Uline admitted. “He came to the starship, showed documents. He said his contract was already paid up and Captain Leng Gnat should already have been aware. Imran confirmed there was no mistake and Kung Waid Shishish’s best shot would now be a member of our crew. T’yu-Pan put half a ton of weights on him, but Ukh-Meemeesh doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s more machine than living creature!”
Meanwhile, the “warmup” finally came to an end and the sparring got underway. I hurried over to the boarding team commander and asked him to put the Dagestani Gladiator against the Miyelonian Translator. Recalling their argument before we took off from the city, I was struggling to come up with a fundamentally better match-up. The personal bodyguard of an esteemed Leng needed to prove his worth with the whole team watching, not lose to a noncombat character in an unfair fight.
“Three skirmishes with blades!” Gerd T’yu-Pan announced. “In case of death, the loser will respawn and pick back up fifteen minutes later!”
Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu had the level advantage on her side — one hundred twelve versus her opponent’s ninety-nine. She also had more statistic points due to her Gerd status, and a larger number of skill slots to top it all off. The Dagestani athlete though had wounded pride on his side — in one way or another, the combat-class player had lost his last three matchups against the peaceable Translator. And he yearned to prove himself worthy to serve as the captain’s personal bodyguard.
And it was quite the spectacle! It was more like a war than a friendly practice session. Blade duels tended to last a couple seconds at most, but the tension and weight of responsibility changed all that — the two rivals spent a long time circling and moving in quick spurts, while their grapples ended in lightning fast series of blows and parries, followed by blistering mutual retreats.
Eagle Eye skill increased to level ninety-eight!
A moving ball of steel and sparks, occasionally letting up, but then picking right back up where they left off. At times, I didn’t even have the Perception to tell what was happening in the arena. At a certain point, Ayni lost half of her left ear, sliced off by the flick of a blade. But the wound didn’t stop the Miyelonian from scoring the first victory, catching her opponent off guard with a lucky sweep of the leg, sending Imran to the ground then piercing his chest with her blade.
But Imran’s performance in the next two fights surpassed the capabilities of the human body. The Dagestani started to move faster than ever before! I couldn’t even really see him at all, just blurry contours! Two victories, and the second at a distinct advantage — the Miyelonian was sent to resurrection by having her head split with two blades at the same time. However, by then, the human also required a Medic’s attention — Imran was not able to stay on his feet and fell over. Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa noted muscle spasms and exhaustion, injected some kinds of medicine and forbid Imran from continuing to take part in today’s training.
“Level one hundred, congrats!” I slapped my friend on the shoulder as he limped and waddled his way out of the arena.
“Thanks! But what mattered most was that I kept my place in Team Gnat,” the Dagestani chuckled through the pain. “As it was, I was starting to feel like the weakest link and thinking you could easily find someone better to replace me. I trust that you wouldn’t have gotten rid of me, though. I’d have left on my own if I really thought I was no longer up to the task. But wait, Gnat, my Fame is twenty-four already. A smarter player told me I’ll become a Gerd pretty soon. Then I’ll crank up my Agility, Strength and Perception and I’ll really be able to go balls to the wall! I’ll be of use to you yet!”
I didn’t say a thing because Imran had said it all himself. Yes, being the personal bodyguard of a Leng meant something, and the player occupying that position was simply obliged to rise to the challenge. I watched the duels a bit longer, paying particular attention when Gerd Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh the Relict used his disorientation technique. As it turned out, there were a bunch of subtle details that needed to be taken into account. Starting with not wasting mana when mystifying more than one target, the need to consider the varied number and positioning of sense organs in different races, and just the fact that different species relied more on different senses. For example, Miyelonians could find and snuff the Relict with their blades even while dazed until Gerd Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh figured out he should also be knocking out their sensitive whiskers. Trillians then, especially when down on all six legs, could sense tremors in the ground, which also had to be accounted for. Although I did not personally take part in the fights, I was still thinking through plans of action so I could use my skills as effectively as possible. And the game system acknowledged that:
Disorientation skill increased to level eight!
Disorientation skill increased to level nine!
I had nearly come around to taking part in the training session myself, but it wasn’t meant to be. My Engineers came to me with technical questions. Then the leader of the Trillian repair brigade asked me to sign off that they had finished their job and the starship was in full working order. And finally, the Navigator caught me in the hallway and asked where to set our frigate’s course to next — where were we going? And would we use our own power, or link back up with the mobile Relict laboratory? Before answering, I checked my senior officer’s mind. Absolute loyalty. In any matter that did not threaten the Geckho race directly, I could count on Ayukh in the fullest — he would never betray me or go wagging his tongue. And so I didn’t beat around the bush and answered honestly:
“Let’s check the thrusters and other starship systems near the station, then we can link up with the mobile laboratory. It’s somewhere here in the Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh system. I ordered it to jump to a random location and await further orders. And as for our course, calculate a direct null transport to the Solar System, third planet, exiting a few thousand miles from its surface. Just make sure to translate all the digits into the Relict coordinate system first, so you can enter them straight into the laboratory’s navigation computer. I’m afraid we might have to leave in a big hurry, and possibly even under fire from an enemy fleet!”
