“And definitely raise your attributes by fifty. Not now, but start on it at least.”

“By fifty or to fifty?” Cam asked, looking over at Will.

“By fifty--I mean in total, including what you’ve already put in,” said Will, leaning back on his bed. They were in their quarters, which were small for two. Will might be a guild officer, but he technically was not an officer of the ship, and so humbly accepted the smaller quarters. He had only asked that Cam be allowed to bunk with him. “You get a point in every stat every ten player levels, and skills will raise the stat it’s based off of every three skill levels, but those don’t count towards the price of raising stats. Your first fifty points of raising a stat costs one skill point, but it increases from there. Two points for each of the next fifty, four points for the next and so on.”

“Should I put points in even strength and agility?”

“Maybe not right now, but might as well eventually. They’re cheap for the first fifty.”

“Sounds complicated,” Cam said. He was sitting on his bed as well, leaning forward, staring at the character and skill screens that only he could see.

“Like you enjoy the game less because its complicated.”

Cam grinned. They both liked complex mechanics that they could work with. It was what made games like this so much fun. When there was only one optimal, obvious choice a game grew boring quickly. Choices were what made it interesting. It was what let you play your character the way you want. And speaking of choices...

“These are an odd set of skills you want me to take,” said Cam. “This isn’t going to be a short trip is it?”

Will shook his head. “All the pilots know that, though. I know I’ve been tight lipped about the details. I’ll explain more when we’re farther in.”

Cam gave Will a level look. Will shrugged, nonplussed. They sat there a few seconds before Cam sighed.

“I hate opsec,” he said. The last word came out almost as a curse. It was slang for operation security, and the first rule for it was no one was told more than they needed to know. It was common in New Space, where secrecy was the best tool for one guild to attack another. A small attack that the enemy did not hear about could work where a large attack the enemy did hear about would not. The same rules seemed to apply to Celestial Void. Only a few players would know all the details of a mission so that not even by chance they could get leaked. Cam hated it because it meant the best practices were to keep information from even those you trust. Even they could let something slip by accident.

“Me too,” said Will with a grin.

“How long do you expect it to take?”

“Honestly, not sure. Weeks. You good with that?”

Cam smiled. It felt like old times. They had participated in many prolonged campaigns together.

“Yeah. When I got the pod I put in all the vacation days I’ve been saving. I got six weeks real time. Not sure if they’re happy with me now.” Cam was currently working IT. It was a nice job, but he was glad for a break. Maybe when the six weeks turned into eighteen weeks in-game, he’d be ready to go back. For now, he was excited to explore the game world.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you back. The ARG-3 pods can sustain, right?”

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” Cam said, rubbing his neck. He suddenly felt a bit of vertigo. It felt odd thinking how immersive the game was. He knew everything in game was simulated, but it all felt so real. He and Will were really both in pods in separate parts of the country, but at the same time they were playing a game, looking at each other’s avatars that looked as real as their real bodies. “I could stay logged in for weeks before it’ll force me to take a small break. Can yours do the same?”

“Not quite,” Will answered. “I have a MX-4. it’s fully able to sustain but I have to log out each week. The sustenance packs need to be changed about that often. I upgraded to it a few months ago.”

“How’d you afford that? I thought you haven’t been working for the last six months.”

Will grinned. “The game can be lucrative by itself. There are people who pay real world money for in game loot.”

“And Numean is fine with that?”

“Numean is making money hand over fist, and a good part of it is that,” Will laughed. “They’ve promised that they’ll never create items for cash, so no people buying loot crates from the company, but they take a small cut of every official transaction between players. Some people try to use third party sites to get around that, but the fee is so small, and the risk is so large to use those sites that most just make transactions through Numean. They’ll ban you if they find you using a third party site to sell for cash, and some sites have been known for being shady.”

That was certainly news to Cam. He loved intricate in game economies, but he wasn’t a fan of real money transactions. Intricate economies meant there was plenty to explore and--more importantly--exploit, but real money transactions meant people could always pay to win instead of earning it.

“So you’ve sold enough to not have to work?” Cam said, hiding a frown.

“I admit, I’ve questioned many times if I should do it or not, but it was easier than I thought it would be. I get a small stipend from the guild in credits, which I can convert to real world cash if I want, but most of what I’ve sold has been either solo expeditions or small fleets where we agree beforehand to sell whatever we find.”

“Think the prices will keep up?”

Something in Will’s hesitation told Cam he was holding something back. Cam gave him a look, but Will shrugged it like before.

“Are we somehow doing a big transaction?” Cam asked.

Will laughed. “Almost the opposite,” he answered, before quieting down. He wouldn’t say anything more even when Cam pressed.

He and Will had been talking about how best Cam could upgrade his character. Will had suggested a whole slew of skills to get, only some of which were combat based. The combat ones were interesting, however. There were active abilities in the game, not just passive ones. One was Combat Focus, which increased the rate at which a player could think for a few moments. Something about the game increasing that person’s personal time dilation for that period. It could allow a few extra moments of clarity in a hectic battle. Will had used it when Cam had shouted out the orders to fool the enemy into where the killzone was at. It gave him the time to follow what Cam was trying to do and to give out the orders to the fleet. He said he would only had countered Cam’s orders if he knew the idea couldn’t work.

Another ability--simply called Modular Connection--allowed the use of components that could be installed on a ship, much like weapons. Some gave small passive bonuses, others larger bonuses but had to be activated and usually had large cooldowns or other limitations. They could increased max speed, give a boost to weapons or to defenses. It took almost thirty points of prerequisite skills--two levels each of Nanite Control, Hull Upgrades, and Ship Mechanics--which was why Will hadn’t recommended it earlier. He had thought it better to get the implants first.

Of the prerequisites, Nanite Control also let him use nanites that could repair parts of a ship that were damaged while in flight, including armor. Nanites were expensive though--at least compared to small fighters--so Will said to use them sparingly. Still if they were on a ship they’d be lost if it exploded so no reason to hold back if he thought his ship might be destroyed. Hull Upgrades was mostly a buff to ship integrity, more hull hit points so tougher to kill. It was one of the only passive skills that had a five percent buff per level. The most he had seen up until now was three percent. It was also one of the only ones that couldn’t be modified by a player stat. Ship Mechanics was worthless to Cam at the moment besides being the prerequisite for the ability he wanted. It gave a bonus to fixing ships in repair bays or docks. The Engra already had its share of engineers that could do that. Repairing ships might be useful on a prolonged mission, but the skill was just plus two percent repair rate per level.

He filled in the skills and attributes he and Will had talked about and took a good look at his character screen.

Name Guild Title Level Cameron Calvera Codiem Caelestis None 117 Health Psi Energy Stamina Fatigue 177/177 67/67 106/106 18% +0.134/min +0.078/sec + 0.086/sec Attributes Strength 46 Skill Points Available: 125 Agility 46 Constitution 46 Speed 46 Endurance 66 Dexterity 67 Intelligence 66 Willpower 67 Intuition 66 Affecting Statuses: None

The extra stat points from two of his skills hitting level three had made him almost mess up with putting the skill points in the way he wanted. He had decided to raise the bottom five attributes by a total of forty points, minus the ones he had thrown in them earlier. The top for attributes he raised only by twenty points. He like the symmetry of it. He knew he would be using almost all of those bottom attributes, so he kept the points in them all even. It was a hefty amount of skill points to use--over two hundred--but Cam could feel the difference. The change almost felt invasive. Not only did his body feel stronger and more solid, but his mind felt sharper. He was sure it had to be an illusion--after all, how could a game actually make you smarter?--but he felt it, nonetheless.

He had spent more points than Will had wanted, but he felt it was a good investment. Combat Focus and Modular Connection might not directly raise his abilities for battle, but they added a ton of utility and options. The extra stats would also help him, both for piloting and other areas. But he had grabbed quite a few skills that had been non-pilot oriented. Some would help on smaller ships that still required a crew of more than one, but that was it. Still, he could not complain. In almost every game he enjoyed the direction Will had suggested for his skills.

“So I should hold on to these last hundred skill points,” he said out loud. Will had already said he should keep at least a small stockpile, but had not said why. “Is that so I can pick some skill up on the field to help win an encounter?”

“Probably not,” Will laughed. “I doubt even a five percent bonus would help turn the tide of battle. I mean it’s a possibility, but it’s more to be able to jump into something new on the fly. There is a lot of player ability involved in anything ship related but if I stuck you on weapons for a destroyer, I’d want you to at least pick up the basic mid size weapon skills. Having a buffer of points lets you do that in a crunch.”

“And out here we’re not going to have any cavalry to come riding over the hilltop,” Cam stated matter of factly. Will had not said it outloud, but Cam could reach that conclusion easily. “Do the other pilots hoard skill points?”

“Many, but not all,” Will said. “Codiem Caelestis might be a large guild, but you can’t hold onto players by being a total military. Any guild that tries to dictate how their pilots must play will start bleeding their player base. My wing has many of our guild’s top pilots, but there has to be some give. All I require is for them to have more than the basics of one skill set that we can use in prolonged missions or in larger ships. Even that was a fight with many of them. Everyone wants to be the crack pilot. No one wants to be the guy stuck in engineering.”

“How many points do you have saved up?” Cam asked.

“Five hundred and twelve,” said Will.

Cam could only laugh. For a moment there he had been impressed with how far he had brought his character today--with help of course--but Will had more points saved up than Cam had spent on his character so far.. It put into perspective how far Cam still had to go. Another thought also struck him.

“So do the skills just stop mattering after a certain point?” he asked, leaning back against the wall behind his bed. Two percent for a skill level was not that much, but the game was balanced around it. He could easily see two percent stop mattering sooner than later.

“To a certain degree,” Will said, leaning forward. He had a certain air about him that Cam could read as a lesson coming. They both loved the intricacies of systems in games. It may frustrate some who did not have the patience to wade through it, but Will and Cam always explored those details and interactions, even if they sometimes floundered through them.

“Each skill has an attribute that modifies it,” Will began. “Most of the flying ones are modified by Dexterity or Endurance, but some are modified by Intelligence, Willpower or Intuition. That attribute increases the base bonus. At about a hundred and fifty that two percent per level is up to three percent. Four hundred and fifty in an attribute will get you about a five percent bonus per level. Now if you have, say, six levels in most relevant skills that’s thirty percent bonus to everything. Thirty percent to hit points, to defences, to weapon tracking, damage, speed. You name it.

“But those kinds of bonuses benefit each other. Weapon damage and weapon firing rate both increase your damage multiplicatively, so does tracking in most cases, and weapon range. So you’re not doing a hundred and thirty percent the damage of a newbie pilot, you’re doing two hundred percent, or even more. And you’re also more than two hundred percent tougher to kill.”

“You could take on three or four new pilots at once,” Cam said, nodding. “More if you’re out maneuvering them.”

“Exactly. Now, that’s an amazing advantage, but in larger fleets that can be mitigated. Even if your pilots are all two hundred percent tougher to kill, they will start dropping to focus fire. The side with the better skills want to spread out the battlefield, to prevent the enemy from being able to focus fire one or two of them at a time. The side with the worse skills better have superior numbers or else they’re going to lose, baring a tactical miracle, but because of that they want to group up and get all of their pilots to be able to hit an enemy at once. It makes them slower, but they’re more likely to get kills.”

“Aluvius seemed willing to spread out on the battlefield today,” Cam noted.

“Bad tactics on their part,” said Will. “They saw a tempting target in the Engra and jumped to follow it without having a rally point. I’m sure they didn’t expect us to ambush them in their own territory with a fleet jumping in. They grouped up as soon as they could, but they were in a bad spot and we could hold them off until they lined up under the bombs. Also grouping works best when you have ships that can all fire similar ranges. If you have too many different sizes the smaller ships constantly have to swing around to keep the nose of the formation--so to speak--towards a moving enemy.”

Cam nodded. The tactics were familiar to him. What was always different in each game was what made an army superior or inferior, more mobile or less, as well as what tricks could each side pull out on the battlefield. The Aluvius fleet had tried to stay spread out when they thought they would have superior numbers. At that point the Engra had been the only large ship on the field, so there was little reason to stay too together. The fighters scored the lucky kills on three destroyers at the beginning of the fight, but overall spreading out would have helped the Aluvius fleet. The asteroid field on one side had also helped the Engra, both in protecting itself and in the eventual herding of the enemy to a concentrated point.

“Anyways, all that aside, at that point do you think five percent more in a couple skills would be worth it?” Will finished. “Or would do you think being more flexible would help?”

Cam took a moment to think about Will’s point. Will was looking at him, waiting, but patiently. He wanted Cam to think and come up with his own idea, even if it took a couple minutes.

It was an easy choice for Cam, even though he could see both sides of the argument.

“The extra five percent to some key skills would definitely be a bonus on the battlefield,” he stated. “But if they’re only five percent more and only in a couple skills, the advantage wouldn’t be that big. In the long run, losing a battle like that, as long as you weren’t defeating too soundly, would probably be worth the flexibility in the long run.”

“Exactly,” said Will, moving his hands excitedly. He became animated in these kinds of discussion. “Spending those five hundred points would give me an advantage on the field, but two pilots close to my level who saved those points could take me on and win. Five hoarders could even take on four spenders. Heck, four and an NPC pilot could probably take on four in that case.”

“But at my level, five hundred points can get me two levels in a dozen low level skills that complement each other, as well as up my stats.”

“Which you need to be competitive,” said Will, nodding. “That and actual combat will raise those skills as well.”

Cam thought about this. Growth in games was standard, but this seemed so exponential. “How was I even effective out there today?” he asked.

“Honestly, you did worse than every pilot, including NPCs in every measurable piece of data we could collect on the field,” Will said, not holding back. Cam was fine. He would have been surprised if it had been otherwise. “Worse in everything except ingenuity and survival that is. Emma knew she was mostly on her own out there, but you did shoot down missiles on her tail that would have forced her to fall back if not blown up her fighter. Out there it is as much about teamwork and player skill as in game combat skills. You might not have done tons of damage, but you didn’t let anyone down.”

Will was right, but Cam knew he still had a long ways to go to be effective in a one on one fight. Right now the best he could do was help the team out and hope his power grew enough to fit the role.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

They chatted a few minutes, just relaxing and catching up. This was the first time they had really had the chance to sit and talk without the threat of battle looming. When Cam had come aboard the ship just a day and a half ago Will had been busy handling the logistics and talking with the ship officers. Will had invited Cam along, but Cam could see people making a fuss at this nobody invited to high level conversations. People wouldn’t make a fuss now, though. Will had made it clear to the high ups that Cam’s heat of the moment thinking had saved a good number of ships in the battle. So when Will receive a message to see the captain he invited Cam along and this time Cam said yes.

* * *

A few minutes later they were standing at the bridge’s blast door, being waved in by the guards. Neither guard growled at him, which was a remarkable improvement. One even moved his head in what could almost be a nod. They were still intimidating though. They could probably kill Cam in a heartbeat, even with his level gains today.

Walking through the blast door, the bridge looked much calmer than before. The three high ranking officers were sitting in chairs now, behind a small row of desks. A coffee mug sat on each desk. The officers were still watching the holographic display in the middle, but more casually, chatting with each other and only occasionally giving an order. The display itself only showed the Engra, including percentages for each ship system as well as itemized repair lists for different sectors of the ship. As unprofessional as the desks looked in the middle of the militaristic surroundings, Cam couldn’t blame them. This was a game after all. People played to have fun, and the stakes were low compared to anything in the real world. Death, after all, was merely a setback. Players fought to defend their own creations: space stations, planetary upgrades and other infrastructure that allowed guilds and factions to grow stronger, but the worst that happened was that it was destroyed and that guild lost power. Still plenty of reasons for players to fight, but even the worst mistake just meant more explosions to see in game. They were just your ships exploding, not the enemy’s.

Cam and Will walked down to the main floor of the bridge. The petty officers looked relaxed as well. Each was either waiting for more instructions or coordinating with their area of the ship for repairs. Enough of its armor had been lost during the battle that some shots made it through the hull. The internal damage seemed minimal, but still needed to be fixed. Repair bots were restoring as much of the armor as they could out in the field and spreading it to areas where it was needed. It had been less than an hour since the last Aluvius ship had been cleared off the grid and the Engra was looking ready to go into battle again.The Engra had jumped once since then. The rest of the Caelestis fleet had jumped as well, but in a different direction. They had helped in the battle, but this mission was for the Engra alone. The fight had already attracted too much attention. An entire fleet jumping through space would attract even more.

“Ah, if it isn’t the men of the hour,” said a voice. Cam had been looking around the room and had missed the captain and the other two officers stand up and walk towards him and Will.

“Cameron, this is Captain Steve Drent, First Officer Bron Fissure and Second Officer Fav Kecher,” said Will by way of introduction. “Lady and Gentlemen, this is Cameron Calvera.”

Cam nodded in greeting. The introduction sounded too formal in his ears, especially with how young the officers looked. None looked over thirty. It wasn’t surprising though. In game avatars could look like anything the players wanted them to be, and players were far more likely to make themselves look like a twenty something than a forty something, even if they were closer to the latter’s age.

The officers looked sharp in their uniforms. Everything was neat and precise. The captain and the first mate had the same military haircut. The second mate had her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. As relaxed as they had looked a moment ago in their chairs, they stood tall with the air of those who would be at home at a formal party, or at least know how to survive one.

“That was quite the call out there, Cameron,” Captain Drent said, reaching out to shake his hand. Cameron obliged and shook. The other two officers offered their hands in turn. Cam gave his best simel. Even in his days as an officer in a guild in New Space, he never liked too much formality and ceremony. He usually left that kind of politics to Will. “I wasn’t sure about it myself when the call went out, but it turned out better than I could have imagined. I thought we were going to have far more clean up and casualties.”

“It was just something I saw in the heat of the moment,” Cam said.

“Hell of an observation,” said Second Officer Kecher. Her face showed she was genuinely impressed. Her hard face was exactly what you would expect in an officer, but there was a touch of admiration in her eyes. Even in a game--or especially in a game--it was tough for women to rise in the ranks in many guilds. The idea that games were for guys, and war was for guys played heavily to it. Her hard looks helped her fit in. Cam wondered how much of it was a mask or how much did she embrace. “We had just given up holding the bulk of the enemy’s smaller ships in the blast radius. Even most of the cruisers were moving out of its range before the carriers could enter in the kill zone.”

“To see them move back on their own accord...” Drent said shaking his head. He seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment before looking back at Cam. “It was a good call. I can’t imagine a better one.”

Everyone nodded. Cam never liked these situations. He was never that social to begin with. He never knew how to deal with praise. He was not naturally modest, but neither did he want to sound prideful. Fortunately Will spoke up before the moment grew awkward.

“How are repairs?” he asked.

Captain Drent laughed. “Good enough to get us where we need to go.” He waved them to one side of the bridge, away from the ears of the petty officers at the terminals.

Will chuckled at the comment, and Cam frowned. It sounded like an inside joke of sorts and he could not help wonder what it was about.

“It’ll be six months before we get this much action again,” grumbled Fissure. He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. He had the proud look of a military officer ready to go down with the ship. Cam hid his smile at that. Respawning was part of the game. Going down with the ship was hardly noble. The equipment made greater sacrifices than any player. Still, he never laughed at how others chose to play. If Fissure got into the game that much Cam could not find fault. It was easy to see how someone would enjoy the game like that anyways with how real everything felt.

“We knew what we were getting into,” Drent said. “Besides, I would say this has already been worth it. Dealt an economic win with the battle, gained a few levels, and had some fun.”

The first officer grunted in agreement at that.

“Don’t worry, your names are moved to the head of the queue,” said Will. “Might take a bit to get another battleship, but you’ll be back out there almost before your respawn fatigue wears off.”

“Wait, a suicide mission?” Cam asked. It was the only thing that made sense with Drent and Will’s comments. Even as he spoke out loud, more thoughts clicked into place. A suicide mission and a long term, isolated deployment. “Oh,” he said, putting a few pieces together.

“You hadn’t told him?” Kecher asked with a smile.

“It’s more fun this way,” Will answered, shaking his head. “It’s good to see his brain is still working after a year apart.”

“Hey, I was still playing, just not the same game as you,” Cam said, still thinking about what was most likely to come.

“You have to admit that New Space has been pretty dead this last year,” said Will. “I mean, I logged on twice after Celestial Void started up and followed the news. There wasn’t much going on.”

Cam shrugged, but he had to admit that Will was right. The game had turned into a ghost town for the most part. The last year showed some action here and there but it was harder to find and became rarer as time passed. After a few months, by an unspoken rule, most guilds had moved away from the edges of the universe to be closer to each other. After six months many guilds guilds started partnering with other guilds and made arbitrary wars on each other just to keep some content going for their players. In the last month Cam could not remember a single large conflict or space battle. Many pilots still went out in small craft--that game’s equivalent of fighters or corvettes--but even then you had to go search for fights.

The thought saddened Cam. New Space had been his game for years. He had hardly played anything else in that time. Now it was almost empty. Celestial Void was in many ways its spiritual successor--there were no other VR space games of note out there--but it was definitely not the same. There was already a dozen ways in which space combat was different and he had only been playing for a couple days. How would ship design or logistics or resource mining or a million other things be different here?

But truth be told, nostalgia always made the old look better than it was. If he was honest, Celestial Void out did everything from New Space. Cam was just too familiar with all the little nuances of the old game. It took work to adapt to the new. And it was not like he was starting from scratch. A lot crossed over between the two games. They were more alike than different.

“We’ll just have to make content of our own over here now,” he said out loud. “Seems like we’re on the right track to do it.”

The other four nodded at him. Fissure had a smile on his face, which surprised Cam with the man’s grumbling attitude a minute ago. Content. It was the key word in player driven MMOs. Many games relied on developers or automated programs to create form content for players. Celestial Void did that to some extent, but it was background. The real story was performed by the players.Guilds had set up their kingdoms and strongholds among the stars in the last year. Many had been torn down already by others and replaced by something new. Cam had followed bits and pieces of it even when he was focused on New Space. Yes there had been NPC factions showing up from time to time to sow some chaos, but it had mostly been player versus player action that had shaped the game so far, and the developers seemed to be all for that. In many ways Cam felt late to the game. It may have only been a year in the real world, but that was three in the game. That had been plenty of time for guilds and players to establish themselves, and he had just arrived.

The four’s reactions concerned him. They had looked a little too eager at the thought of more content.

“You guys have been having plenty of content here, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Of course, but there’s content and there’s content,” said Ketcher. “The last few weeks have been full of action against Aluvius, but not everyone gets to participate in every fight. Before then, the last couple trimonths were more cold war than hot. Although I suppose we need to be careful what we wish for.”

Her voice drifted off and she gave a knowing look. Everyone else seemed to know, but Cam was still out of the loop on current events in the game.

“What Fev’s trying to say is that it hasn’t gone as well as we hoped,” said Will. “We’ve won more battles than we’ve lost, but Aluvius always seems to have more ships to throw at us. We’re winning the battles but losing the attrition war.”

Fissure scowled. Drent shook his head. Even Ketcher frowned, seeming in disapproval. Cam glanced at them, wondering if their reaction was over how blunt Will was, or that he was sharing it with Cam, a new player with no actual rank in Caelestis. For his part Cam shrugged it off. If Will was willing to talk, Cam would keep asking questions. He knew his friend would draw the line if Cam actually came to one.

“How long can you keep it up?” Cam asked. He took a quick glance around the bridge. It seemed that the petty officers at the terminals were too far away to hear them on this side of the bridge.

“We got some time, but overall we’re losing more ground than we’re winning,” said Will. “We have a tentative ally in Flux Edge. They’re large enough to help but border Aluvius on their far side, so there is little we could do to help other than coordinate. They’ve suffered some attacks though, so even if we don’t officially ally, we’re fighting the same war. A few other small guilds might help out, at least just for some good fights if nothing else. Quan El, Lethoria, and Practice Alliance among them. The problem is that some of them could go either way. They don’t hate or like either Aluvius or us. They just want a piece of the action.”

“Practice Alliance seems to be in our favor,” said Fissure. “They put some corvettes and frigates at Anritora. Wasn’t much, but every bit counts.”

“We’ll see,” nodded Will. “Flux and them don’t get along that well, if I remember correctly. Practice has been known for picking fights with whoever they think they can get away with it more than making solid alliances. They have a lot of members, but not a ton of resources, since the guild started just a few months ago based on an internet meme. They want content for their players without too much commitment.”

“Any other big players in the area?” Cam asked. “Or are Caelestis and Aluvius the largest?”

“Flux Edge is comparable, but smaller,” Drent chimed in. “Brutal Royals is another. The largest in the area, however is Thrusters At Full. I wouldn’t want them to go to Aluvius’ side. That would be a tough fight even if we could get all the other guilds in the area to join us.”

“I’m more concerned they’ll wait for us and Aluvius to weaken each other,” said Will, “and then snatch up as much space as they think they can get away with.”

The other officers nodded. Any apprehension about sharing this level of information with Cam it had evaporated in the last few minutes. He might be a newcomer, but Will was treating him highly, and after all, he had performed well in the battle out there.

“That sounds brutal,” said Cam. “Politics are that cut-throat here?”

“Oh yeah,” said Ketcher, nodding her head.

“Mostly,” corrected Will. “It’s not so much honor as reputation, but most guilds will keep their word. That’s not to say that they won’t go back on it if they think it’s to their advantage, but they weigh the long term consequences of people trusting them less to the short term potential gains.”

“But carving up Caelestis and Aluvius space might be one hell of a short term gain,” said Cam.

Everyone agreed. It seemed like politics here were a level above New Space where most players mostly communicated to keep a friendly atmosphere, even when at war with each other. One war Cam had been part of had ended up with almost every faction involved. It was a bit like World War I. The friendly treaties everyone had backfired, pulling everyone into a war that had started between two small factions. Some factions even ended up having treaties on both sides, which made them have to just pick and chose a side. In the end the winning side built up momentum and stomped the losers but decided to give back most of the territory they had conquered so that those on the losing side would still have places to play and build in. If anything the ordeal had brought many groups closer, even to those on the opposite side of the war as them.

Celestial Void looked to be shaping up into the opposite. Cam thought it strange, since a good chunk of New Space’s player base had transferred over. Had New Space been a fluke? He had heard of many player driven MMOs of the past where they turned closer to the cutthroat Celestial Void than the helping New Space. What had happened to make New Space different? Could it be replicated? He had no idea how to do it. In fact, even in the last year a lot of the friendliness in New Space had broken down. Maybe it was bitterness at losing so many players, or maybe players thought their reputation would be worthless when the game ended so being friendly was less important than trying to have fun even at others’ expense.

They talked a few more minutes about galactic politics but soon conversation died down.

“Cam, I have a few things I would like to talk to Steve about,” said Will. “Make sure you’re ready for the next battle.”

Cam nodded. He wondered what Will wanted to talk about that he decided not to say in front of him. Their conversation had already wandered on subjects most outsiders would have been shunned from. What was more secretive than that? He didn’t mind though. Whatever it was about he trusted Will to let him know what he needed to know. He excused himself and made his way from the bridge.

He walked back to the hangar, taking his time as he went. He had not explored much of the ship yet, and figured he would not have the chance again. The Engra had only been his home for a few days, but that covered most of his time in game so far. It saddened him that he wouldn’t be able to walk its halls much longer. He mostly wandered down the route he and Will had taken earlier today, peeking down hallways and looking into any open doors. The bulkheads still bore marks from the firefight. Apparently they were not worth fixing at the moment with more pressing areas to repair. No enemy bodies were in sight, obviously, but he wondered if they had to be disposed of or if they disappeared on their own after a period of time.

He was near the hangar when he spotted another pilot. He was standing at a terminal near a door, but he currently looked like he was not working on anything. He had dark hair and an average build. Cam walked up to say hi before realizing it was one of the NPC pilots. He almost continued walking but an awkward sense of embarrassment made him stop.

“Hi,” Cam said, smiling. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

The NPC paused and blinked a moment, as if confused to be spoken to so directly. Cam frowned at its reaction. One of the NPC pilots had spoken up on his own when Lant had said something about NPC pilots. Had that been a rare thing?

“I am Effifteen,” he said. “How can I be of service?”

“Effifteen, as in Fighter pilot fifteen?” Cam asked, curious. “Do you guys not have names?”

Again the NPC paused before responding. It looked as if it was scouring its memory. “We can be given names, but generally are referred to by function,” he said.

“Okay, I suppose that makes sense to some degree,” Cam said, thinking. NPCs were another part of the game Cam knew little about. His only direct interaction with one was in the tutorial, and that mostly just running him through the basics of gameplay. He wondered what the range of responses for an NPC could be. How lifelike could they seem?

He thought a moment about how to word his next question.

“Where were you in the squad formations today?” he asked, deciding to start simply.

Effifteen answered immediately this time, but still looked somewhat confused. “I was in Blue Wing, fifth flight,” he answered succinctly.

“And how did the flight perform today?”

“We had five NPC pilots and a player as head of our flight. Pilot Abe Slayer. He lead well,” the NPC responded. The voice sounded so clinical, but the face looked puzzled. “We helped take down Blue Squadron’s destroyer target and lost one pilot due to a destroyer missile. We then assisted the wing to take down the battlecruiser. When the enemy fighters arrived, we killed four before Slayer’s ship blew up. Two of us died as we reformed, and me and last survivor, Efseventeen, separated into flight three and flight six, to fill out their losses. Flight three continued with the fight with only one more loss, while helping take down three corvettes and seven fighters.”

Effifteen was clearly able to display emotions to at least a limited degree, it seemed. The puzzled face showed that. Cam doubted that was the default face of an NPC pilot. It would just be confusing. Cam wondered how far its range of emotions might be. He figured there wouldn’t be any harm in pushing it a little.

“Sounds good,” he nodded. “So do you think you performed well today?”

There was another moment of pause--small but noticeable. Effifteen tilted his head as if processing the information. His motions were quick and jerky for that moment, but smoothed out once he started talking. Interesting. Was each NPC capped with how much server computing power it could use? It could process information or act lifelike, but had trouble doing both at once.

“According to combat logs, I was within one standard deviation of the average on most of the commonly used statistics. Shots fired was an exception, where I scored in the fourteenth percentile. However the spread between the fourteenth and fifteenth percentiles was only one hundred and twenty seven shots fired. Most of that was due to acting as a wingman for most of the battle as well as the time spent reforming mid combat. My accuracy was high enough that my damage was still in the thirty fifth percentile. Also, the player pilots I flew with did not made any complaints against my flying today.”

As generic as the statement was Cam thought he heard a small bit of pride in Effifteen’s voice. Being considered within the tolerances of average while flying among player pilots seemed to be considered a good feat for NPC pilots.

Cam nodded. He had one last question which he hoped would shed light on how realistic the NPC personalities were.

“Well, good job. After all, who am I to say otherwise? I was told I was lower than most NPCs” he said. Then he sprung his question: “Based on today, what will you do to improve for the next battle?”

For a moment Cam had thought he had asked a question that would be unanswerable for the NPC. It was by no means a turing test, but the ability for a program to recognize the ability for improvement was a big step in artificial intelligence, even if that recognition is merely computer simulated. Effifteen took several seconds before he spoke up.

“My combat performances were in the ninetieth percentile or above for my rating and level. I am not sure how I can improve on that.”

Cam was disappointed in the answer. The idea that Effifteen saw itself as unable to improve was not only a lack of lifelike thinking, but it was also a major drawback on NPC performance. Still the answer sparked another question at least.

“Your rating? What does that mean?” Cam asked.

“Each NPC is giving a rating, which is hidden until discovered by players. Once the rating is discovered, it allows the players who hire the NPCs to know the NPC’s general performance expectancy.”

Cam frowned. “Can that rating be changed?”

“I...I am not sure,” said Ef-Fifteen after a moment’s pause. The pause almost made Cam smile. Maybe it was Cam’s imagination, but he thought Ef-Fifteen sounded hopeful. Did the NPC believe he could not improve, but the thought of it make him hope that he could? Why would the NPC not be sure of such a question anyways? Cam had thought it was cut and dry.

Before Cam could ask a follow up question a blue light flooded the corridors. There were no blaring alarms, but the light pulsated, clearly indicating something was going on. He frowned, having no idea what it meant. He really needed to learn all the warning signals that were standard for ships. With a sigh, he wondered what he should do next.