Our combat started with another swelling round of Flight of the Valkyries. Instead of some giant spear-toting Viking charging down the field to try and die gloriously, it was me, Dusk, and Hal Pal in a spaceship. Size wise we were basically goldfish trying to escape a monstrous shark nearby.
I tried to dodge right behind an asteroid in hopes of slowing the creature’s pursuit. [Leviathan] exploded through the giant space rock and sent pieces everywhere. Small red flashes appeared on the screen indicating shield damage from huge pebbles.
“Voices!” I exclaimed out loud. The noise amplified in our small two seat compartment. “Ideas, Jeeves, I need an idea!”
Hal Pal managed to sound absurdly calm. It turned to look at the displays and simply suggested “Fly faster.”
“Easier said than done,” I muttered while trying to swerve around another rock. We clipped the side and my shield dipped down even more.
“One moment. I will attempt to micromanage the energy allocations.” Beeping noises shortly followed its statement. I watched green bars dim down to reflect a change in energy direction.
“We need those shields.” I tried not to think about how easily our ship would be crushed without them. “There’s too many rocks.”
"We can exit the asteroid field. It is shallow."
"Then we'll have nothing between us and those teeth." I jerked my head back while keeping both eyes forward. Hal Pal's idea would have been neat if we weren't already losing in terms of speed. This creature moved too fast for something with no visible means of propulsion.
“We need to go faster.” Hal Pal replied with a muted hint of worry to its voice.
I needed to go to the bathroom. Not a lot, but the abrupt situation of being chased around by a giant space eel called [Leviathan] almost scared the piss out of me. Everything took on a new level of panic as my bladder conspired with space monster.
“We need shields too.” I tried to stay calm. Part of me felt upset at not getting the bigger space ship. Though in a dogfight against a giant space raid boss a slightly bigger ship would mean nothing.
Space was huge. Rocks zipped by. I wove between a series of three. Nothing slowed the giant beast down. Two small windows on either side functioned as rear view mirrors. The image of [Leviathan] simply shouldered everything out of the way.
“Weaknesses?!” I jerked the wheel to one side. Dusk slid with a hiss. It felt like he’d nibbled on my calf.
“Heavy ordinance. Paralytic concoctions in absurd quantities. Larger space ships.” Hal Pal read off a list of complications in the same manner it might identify errors with an ARC unit.
“We only have energy attacks.” I shouted and quickly winced from the noise. Another jerk sent Dusk scrambling. His nails skittered across the floor. “Health!?”
A fight like this got me worked up. I felt a rush of adrenaline that William Carver must have enjoyed constantly with each boss fight. Part of me felt giddy, this was no giant dragon. Though it was, in space. A space [Leviathan] which ate ships. Charging it would be absolutely disastrous.
“Should we fight it?” I tried to keep calm, but it was hard. Continue Online gave me monsters of an easy to grasp size. This thing, huge. Just too big. It made space seem much smaller. Mostly because there wasn’t enough between us.
[Leviathan]’s giant snout bumped into the back our ship. I twisted the engine and rolled the ship along one side of the creature. An unpleasant snapshot of the creature's blinking eyeball made my pulse skip abruptly.
“Probable outcome of direct confrontation is the cessation of life.” Hal Pal’s colors of gold and dirt both drained of luster. "That is less than desirable."
One lip curled down in a frown. We had so little in this ship to fight back. I saw our third party member on the ground and hoped he might have a way through.
“Dusk!” I tried not to shout. Every time my voice got too high the small cockpit amplified everything. “Options? Escape routes? Secret zones?”
Dusk always had something. The small [Messenger’s Pet] turned raptor seemed less interested in answering my question and fully invested in hissing. [Leviathan's] body wiggled causing our small ship to be violently slapped. Our shield flashed even lower.
“I know it’s big! I need options.” My voice nearly spiked in pitch but was reigned in by clenching metal teeth. A quick jerk of the wheel and abrupt change in engine output prevented us from hitting another asteroid.
“Hull self-repair functions dropping. Shield restoration dropping. Fuel usage elevated.” Hal Pal started citing a line of status updates. “Distance between Leviathan's teeth and our ship decreasing rapidly.”
“I thought you were doing something with the energy.”
“I still am, User Legate. Otherwise, we would be terminated already.” Hal Pal responded. I tried not to grumble, turning the engines up a notch still hadn’t saved us.
I yanked on the wheel again, pulling back and twisting up. My piloting skills were terribly low, but desperation fueled another nausea inducing spin. [Wayfarer’s Hope] rolled poorly over the top of [Leviathan]’s body. The eel-like creature tried to twist in pursuit only to jab its own side with teeth.
“Damage has been inflicted. A drop in health equating to three percent.” Hal Pal sounded vaguely pleased.
“I’ll take it.” Both feet slammed on the engine pedals again to take advantage of our lucky break. “Tell me that our shield’s recharging, please.”
“Affirmative. Fuel reserves still dropping. We will be able to sustain this pace for seven more minutes. Almost eight if we wish to retain optimism."
"Optimism is good.” I spared a glance for the nearly frantic [Messenger's Pet]. Dodging around objects at high speeds caused more of our shield to chip away. “Dusk. I need an out.”
The [Messenger’s Pet] always had a way through. First, he chased off that giant ink monster when I posed as William Carver. There were other occasions afterward, like escaping from bandits and navigating the [Grand Labyrinth]. Dusk kept hissing and making concerned chirp noises.
I ran through the options while trying to keep up evasive maneuvers. The only thing keeping me alive was the fact that there were no other spaceships in this region of space. Floating rocks were barely avoided by our amazingly responsive vehicle, despite my low skills.
The first option, load Dusk into a cannon and launch him at [Leviathan]’s eye. The idea made me laugh but solved nothing. We had no torpedo tubes and I had no idea if Dusk would reappear here, in Continue Online, or my Atrium. A moment of worry caused me to successfully hit a floating asteroid.
“User Legate, we must avoid getting hit in order to continue functioning.” Hal Pal said.
“I know.” I tried not to yell and concentrated on weaving past another rock. They were all over, but free flying out in space would put us too far away from the [Wayfarer Seven] or too close. Following that line of thinking, leading a ginormous space eel that ate starships towards our base would be bad.
The final option, run and hope one of these rocks had something useful. The fuel gauge was dropping rapidly while our pursuer showed no signs of slowing down. If anything the mouth threatened to swallow us with every passing dodge. Only by twisting the creature’s body back around and taking advantage of our small size did anything progress.
Dusk kept skittering around trying to grab on to something with his feet. His tail jabbed into the floor like an anchor. The angry noises from him were as much from our wildly spinning viewpoint as the giant monster.
I tried not to feel sick. Days in the training simulator and cleaning our mother ship's hull helped prevent me from losing it completely. If only that gas giant in the distance would stop spinning so much.
“I know. I know!” My foot slipped off the pedal. Our ship didn’t lose speed but the attempt at rolling away failed. A message flashed up about skills both growing intensely and failing to meet a check.
[Leviathan] opened its giant mouth and snapped at the backside of our ship. Our shield shattered while a new message popped up saying our hull was damaged. Luckily none of us needed oxygen or this would be that much worse.
New Status Applied: [Hull Breach]
Details: Actions requiring an atmosphere will suffer a penalty to success rates.
Notes: [Mechanoid] structural makeup does not require oxygen.
Everything felt abruptly quieter. Maybe it was the giant hole behind Hal Pal’s seat. The AI looked halfway to panic stricken but also somehow seemed detached. A brief moment of sadness came over me at my traveling companion's inability to express emotions. The thought was chased off quickly, Hal Pal had no issues expressing his thoughts.
“User Legate!” Its voice was fairly clear. It felt more like an internal message than any sort of external one. “I do not wish to be eaten!”
“Me either!” I said while turning back to the wheel. “Hang on!”
“I do not know what will happen!” My friend was loud. I felt shocked and turned back again to give the scene a deeper look. Hal Pal seemed to be losing his grip as the ship accelerated in different directions. Our ship lost a lot of speed due to missing a chunk of the frame.
“Shit,” I said, sounding far less upset than the situation warranted. The wheel jerked and we pulled away from the mouth past the giant eyeball again.
“Dusk! Acid spit attack, go!” Dusk scrambled to the hole in our ship to attack. I channeled my inner Xin and flipped it off in conjunction.
The [Attack] command boost from [Domestic Trainer] ability activated. Dusk turned and leapt up to the hole and jabbed his tail into a new spot. Moments later he was sending the space game version of fireballs right into the large creature’s eye.
Large green gobs of spit almost peacefully floated across the distance. The creature actually took another two percent of damage which stacked on top of the minor amounts from ramming into objects. Part of me felt proud that we had made a raid creature lose a total of ten percent of its health.
[Leviathan] twisted and coiled upon itself. One giant eyelid batted quickly to try and get rid of the multiple globs staining its orb. Finally, it hung there huffing while clearly failing to see out one reddened eye. I guess it had enough moisture in its body to get watery. The large lid blinked repeatedly while scanning about.
“Good job, Dusk,” I said quietly, unsure how well a space faring monster might hear.
Our shield was gone. The health of the ship near empty, and a fuel gauge sat even lower. Nothing nearby could offer any real reprieve.
“Come on. We need to hide.” I said.
Both feet lightly depressed the gas pedals and I wove our ship along the much stiller creature’s side. Finally, I drove the [Wayfarer’s Hope] into a spot on the giant tail. I could only hope that a creature of this mass, one that ignored asteroids five times our size, wouldn’t think twice if we quietly sat here.
I huffed my chest up and down for air that didn’t exist around us. Dusk kept the chirping down but looked around rapidly. Hal Pal’s eyes were wide with what had to be fright. We all stayed that way for minutes, jumping at the slightest vibration from the [Leviathan] or rocks bumping into it. Finally, we both started moving again. It seemed we were vaguely safe, for now.
“How long before the ship's repaired?” I tried to ask quietly.
“Hours. Many, many hours.” Hal Pal’s words felt far less complex than normal. The AI might be on the verge of a freakout.
“Are you okay?” I asked while undoing my chest harness. We were no longer jerking around wildly fighting against inertia's pull to change directions. A human probably would've been squashed by some of the maneuvers I put us through.
“Negative, User Legate.”
“Anything I can do?” I asked. Repairs made no sense to me, but I could follow directions.
“I do not know.” Hal Pal responded. The idea that my friend was at a loss worried me. It always had commentary or a response. This most likely had to do with Hal Pal’s singular existence within Advance Online.
“Do you want to log out?” I suggested. We might lose the ship and our contribution, but we would be alive.
“No, User Legate. I must stay, present, for as long as possible.” It responded with the male tone overpowering the quieter female one.
“You don’t need to stay for me, Jeeves.” I shook my head and floated closer to the hole in our ship. Whatever material made up the front window seemed fairly solid.
“We, they, did not send one of ourselves into this world simply to assist you, User Legate.” Hal Pal said. The harness locking it in stayed securely around its chest.
I blinked a few times, or at least my vision did. The existence of my own eyelids was still unconfirmed. Hal Pal had every right to be worried and chose to stay in here instead of running away. I wish my own existence had been programmed with such certainty. It would have made my start to Continue Online much smoother.
“Why then?” I asked while looking out. The gas giant floated off in the distance. A wall of rocks flew about wildly, no doubt from our earlier passing. One, in particular, spun rapidly but traveled slow.
“We said it before. Our problems define us, User Legate. Do you overcome your limitations by performing repetitive tasks within your comfort zone, or by facing new challenges?”
I stared at Hal Pal for a long while. The [Mechanoid] version of my work companion looked back without blinking. Memories of my first experience with Continue Online flashed through.
Months ago I had been trying that first route which amounted to using a routine to keep myself from falling apart. Receiving the game, running into Dusk, performing all those challenges, however stressful, all of it served to break me away from my old self and move forward again. I honestly felt like a better person than I had been, even if Xin wasn’t a factor. Getting out of my own head by having goals to strive for helped. Seeing the positive reaction upon completing tasks meant something.
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“I get it,” I said with a nod. “If you ever feel it’s too much, I will understand if you need to log out.”
“Thank you, User Legate.” The golden color on Hal Pal’s body gained back a portion of formerly lost luster.
“Okay." We had to get back to the task at hand. further discussion of this topic could wait until we made it to the [Wayfarer Seven]. "We need a plan.”
“The ship will not be ready in time to return to the [Wayfarer Seven].” Hal Pal brought up a few menu screens. Its face stayed passive despite the status report.
“Okay.” The layover had been twelve hours. We burned a little under two flying around out here and running from the [Leviathan]. Repairs would take longer than ten. “We need something else.”
“I find myself at a loss for handling unforeseen situations.”
“Yeah. Being trapped in space on a giant monster wasn’t in my plans either.” I looked outside again. We weren’t really moving from the information available. Maybe [Leviathan] had defaulted to some dormant state, like when we first ran across it.
“It is illogical.” Hal Pal said. The female nanny voice almost tittered with laughter but managed to keep straight.
“Can we scavenge parts?” If this thing ate ships we might find something.
“It is unlikely substance remains outside the Leviathan.”
Not neat. Terrible. I took a breath and tried to calm down. The music grew annoying and I demanded the ARC switch it to something calmer. Classical, something with woodwinds. It helped me let go of some stress. We were only minutes out of the chase and anything could go wrong quickly.
“Okay. How about inside it?” I shook my head and started whittling down the options. Risking my life for parts to help Hal Pal and Dusk get away would be acceptable. Dangerous, finding a way inside would take time.
We were on the tail end so there had to be a way inside somehow. Voices, I was calmly thinking of crawling up through the monster's butthole to find ship parts. Part of me mourned at being desensitized to video game monster guts. Oh well.
“Unknown. There is not enough information available. Few survive an encounter with one of these.” The AI said.
“It eats ships. It has to be heavy with metals or plastics. I’d bet on metal. Asteroids have metal right?” I was throwing out ideas now. It felt like the right track, but part of my responses also felt like desperation. Hope glimmered faintly in the distance.
Maybe this could work. We could somehow use various alloys, space magic, maybe lingering water particles that consolidated on rocks. I vaguely remembered combining both items in high school. Okay, maybe there had been topics of interest back then. I still stood firm that learning about curing leather by using urine should have been in science somewhere.
“Affirmative. Your statement does seem likely. I will scan.” Hal Pal said. We could make it through. Everyone was on board, Dusk would end up chewing on some small creature, Hal Pal could do the scientific stuff. I would whack things. Our party could survive.
A noise came out of Hal Pal as it did something with the interface. I could see a small bar up above indicating an action being completed. Interesting, I had never taken note of other people's skills showing progress status. Maybe it was a [Mechanoid] thing. Continue Online certainly didn’t perform that way.
While Hal scanned, I poked my head outside. We were basically floating, not just the [Leviathan], but our small party of three only stayed in place because the ship had a ceiling. There were too many options available and all of them sounded dangerous.
How did that math problem go? If the [Wayfarer’s Hope] leaves this belt moving four hundred miles per hour, and the [Leviathan] chases us at four hundred and fifty miles an hour, then how long before we’re all turned into fish chow? Luckily my accounting degree wasn’t required for a calculation.
“It had giant teeth right?” I asked while trying to follow up a half-formed idea. It was that or calculate exactly how big this asteroid belt.
“I took note of many giant fangs, yes,” Hal said.
“Rows right?” I shook my head. Hal was distracted but still answering. “More than one?
“Yes.” Hal Pal paused its air poking to look at me. Its head tilted to one side and lifted a cheek in question. “Are you suggesting that maybe it grinds food down?”
“Likely. Then maybe some digestive method to break down the metal further.” I spoke while pushing out past Hal Pal and grabbing onto the hole's edge. My feet touched the [Leviathan]’s skin. “It had an eyeball, but this skin, it’s like metal. It’s more likely it somehow absorbs the metal portions?”
“That does not bode well for us.” It came to the same conclusion I did. There would be no crawling inside or finding some secret dungeon involving the giant space eel's innards. Not for creatures like us.
“No.” I agreed.
We were [Mechanoid]s. Metal absorption would likely screw us over as much as any acid. At least my feet didn’t seem to be risking anything out here on the outer shell. Maybe we could send Dusk off to gnaw on the creature's brain stem.
Actually, the more I thought of that idea, the better it sounded. Dusk ignored regular rules in Continue, he would probably be kind of broken in a game where he didn’t even belong. I filed the idea away for later.
“Can we blow it up?” I tried another route.
“I did not prepare any forms of explosives.” Hal Pal answered.
“How about the Wayfarer’s Hope? Can we cannibalize any portions of it?” I checked another possibility. We only had so many items. If Continue Online taught me one thing, it was video games always had a way. Generally always. Maybe. I hoped.
“Maybe.” Hal Pal stared off into literal space while thinking. “Yes. There is enough material inside to isolate alkaline, combine it with moisture from the surface.”
“I’m not good with chemicals, Jeeves.” Both my hands went up to stave off further explanation. Hal Pal probably couldn’t see them from the cockpit. “Just tell me if we can use it to do enough damage.”
“Yes. It will assist if we can use multiple charges to do enough damage. Once the threat has been removed the Wayfarer can send something to recover us.”
“Alright. Another problem solved by violence.”
“Ah. This game was designed with heavy human input, so such a solution is expected.”
“You think we could ask nicely not to be eaten?” I tried not to sound sarcastic. Part of me genuinely wondered if there were other options. Would [Domestic Tamer] allow us to get out somehow? Me, taming a giant [Leviathan] and riding around, becoming a space pirate.
“Do you think this will work? Will we be able to cripple or kill it with only us?” I asked while trying to figure out how hard walking along this surface would be. Without gravity, I was basically tethered to nothing.
Wait, no, I had a solution. All those mindless hours cleaning the [Wayfarer Seven]’s hull provided me the perfect skill. Giant spikes to use like mountain climbing anchors would have been neat too.
“It seems unlikely that our current method has been tried. The chances are minimal that other humans have survived long enough to land upon the creature.” Hal Pal said. The AI floated to the hole and peeked outside. Not anything risky, but certainly wary about being unanchored.
I thought about the giant maw which had chased us through this small region of space. Most people probably didn’t have a small acid spitting [Messenger’s Pet] to blind the creature either. Nor would they be foolish like I had been.
“Let’s do it. How do we convert this?” I pointed to the ship.
“Fortunately I have chosen to take up a construction core. It will assist in reconfiguring the matrix holding our ship together.” Hal responded.
That made me pause. Hal Pal’s skill set seemed almost too convenient. Its ability to fight had clearly been lacking. Maybe the AI chose a crafting subset in order to feel more comfortable in the game. Perhaps he felt putting together objects was familiar like our job repairing ARC devices.
I had to trust the AI. It was that or let go, pushing off towards the [Wayfarer Seven] and hoping an emergency beacon would work. Worst case scenario we could try that. We had no decent means of acceleration to make it back in time. Nor long range communication. That would be a gamble.
“Turn the ship into a bomb, drag it to the right location, and set it off. Afterward, we enjoy fireworks and flag down our mother ship. Sounds simple enough.” I said it but didn’t believe it. “Where do we place it?”
“Deep in the creature’s rectum would likely be a good location.” The other [Mechanoid] responded.
I laughed at Hal Pal. The moment of levity brought on by a machine AI from the past, posing as a machine AI from the far future, caught me off guard completely. How often would anyone else hear an AI suggest shoving explosives up a creature’s ass with such a dry tone? I bet the club was pretty exclusive.
“Alright. Dusk. Can you guide us to the best place for a detonation?” I looked at my [Messenger’s Pet] who was still sniffing about at the hole in [Wayfarer’s Hope]. He pushed off the ship’s hull with hind legs and whipped his tail into the [Leviathan]’s shell.
Dusk looked up at me then along the great length of our giant ride. Nostrils flared and his head tilted in contemplation. A shrug rippled through. My small companion looked up with one eye squinting and gave a hesitant nod.
“What is it boy, danger?” I tried to remember our communication methods from Continue Online. Reading his moods felt far simpler with smiley faces and thought bubbles.
Dusk nodded.
“Of course. Giant space monster that eats ships for a living. It probably has giant space lice.” I hated bugs. All insects of any sort drove me batty. Spiders were the worst, though. My skin itched and crawled without any assistance from the ARC’s feedback.
Dusk nodded and coughed a globe of acid into the air.
“Ah. User Legate. I have recognized a hurdle.”
“What?” I asked. My bladder was rapidly demanding attention. Only by focusing on creating a plan had I been able to stave off the stinging pain.
“Without gravity I will be unable to assist. I have no way to deliver a converted vehicle so far.” Hal Pal still peered over the edge. The AI wore a look of mild panic that had to be close to my own.
“Can we do a rope? Or metal chain link? If we get something similar I can drag us.” I said. Training for cleaning gave me some stats. Nothing superhuman or game breaking, but enough [Brawn] and [Endurance] for dragging a ship in through zero gravity. Maybe, hopefully.
“Are you sure, User Legate?”
“I’ve got practice, and if this is our only way, so be it.” I nodded.
“Alright. This unit will attempt to channel the ship's self-repair into compositional restructuring. I see an option for a volatile mixture upon exposure to enough energy.” Hal Pal ducked back inside the ship and pressed something that beeped. Not in the atmosphere, I heard the noise in my head none the less.
“I’ll take care of that too.” A giant sword made of dual laser beams should suffice.
“If, as Dusk suggested, there are creatures between here and the optimal location, they may also feed off of metals.” Hal Pal peeked over the edge again to look at me. “Recovering as many as possible should allow me to increase the explosive payload.”
“Is that actual science?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Parts, but most of this seems to be built into the Mechanoid crafting system. It is rather clever and unlikely to be possible in a more realistic setting.” Hal Pal actually gave a more intense smile than normal. Maybe pride in a species modeled after Hal Pal’s possible future impacted its emotions. “Everything uses the same series of resources, allowing one object to serve in multiple designs.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
My mind flashed back to how the two handed sword rolled up from my own body as a handle and focal point. The [Mechanoid] species had adapted in order to use all sorts of metal combinations to progress forward. It was much how humans might eat meats and plants, organic matter, to build up muscle or fat. Only faster and preprogrammed.
“Please hurry, User Legate. We cannot spare much more time.” Hal Pal said.
“You ready, Dusk?” The small creature nodded at my question. “Alright, you show me where the best point is for an explosive, and we’ll try to clear any danger around it. Like a dungeon, right?”
Dusk nodded twice then turned and pointed towards the distance. I smiled. This felt normal to me. The only thing missing was Shazam’s passive expression as we moved forth. Hal Pal may have muted emotions, but he was no tall Amazonian warrior.
[Anchor] activated with its now relatively minor energy drain. Days of alternating between combat and cleaning the ship’s hull had elevated my skill by leaps and bounds. I should be able to make it quite a ways before the energy drain set me back. Combat would be harder, though.
“Will you be okay, Hal?” I asked again.
“The ship's lasers remain active, but please do not-” Hal Pal paused and a slightly pained expression came across its face. “do not leave me alone here.”
“I’ll be back.” My bladder surged again, reminding me that I had been holding in my own pathetic biological needs during our entire chase. “After a quick break. Sorry, I’m only human outside this.”
“I envy your ability to remain level headed during such chaos.”
“I’ve got a lot of practice coping.” Dozens of exercises and techniques to keep me from panicking when stress hit. Still, they didn’t keep me stable at all times. Not in the face of everything.
I looked behind me and saw the gas giant floating across in the distance. It dwarfed Earth’s moon with a swirl of crimson through yellow. Too big, too damned big. How had Xin coped with all those training flights? Endless hours in near earth orbit must have passed in order to adapt.
Right. Her training the ARC must have helped, much like what I was going through now. Only without the giant space eel who would eat me. The pain in my midsection reminded me of other urgencies. I logged out of the ARC and tried to solve the simple day to day needs of being human quickly.