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< This is LCF Aeos requesting mag-assist dry dock on TCC Maelstrom >

Erik flipped the comms switch off, before he leaned back on his leather padded command chair, and waited for a reply.

This ship brings me back, Erik thought. When the VRMMO space sim Dreadnought was still in beta, the LCF Aeos was the first line class vessel his group had purchased. Back when their corporation only had 10 players and was just starting out, the Frigate had been a huge deal. He could still remember the countless hours, and late nights spent hauling cargo, and grinding with the vessel.

Back then things were so much simpler. Just haul cargo, get paid, buy more ships and NPCs, Repeat.

Now the Aeos served as a trophy ship of sorts, used by himself to fly in style. It’s hull was reinforced with stealth tech, and repainted, while the interior had been stripped, and refitted with luxury amenities like carpet floors, far more windows than what could be considered combat safe, and of course, firework launchers.

Erik’s onboard radio buzzed.

< LCF Aeos you are cleared for mag-assisted dry dock in silo 27 F of the TCC Maelstrom. Cut engines and prepare for autodock.>

< Copy that. Cutting engines now. >

Erik eased back on the throttle, letting his body slowly sink into weightlessness.

< LCF Aeos engaging Autodock. Over. >

The Aeos lurched as it was grasped by the magnetic tractor beam, and slowly pulled toward the TCC Maelstrom.

From nearly 400 kilometers out, the vessel’s massive form began to take shape, its cylindrical body glistening under the glow of a blue sun.

The Titan Class Carrier Maelstrom. The object of so much hope, spite, hatred, and speculation that it had singlehandedly thrown the entirety of the Dreadnought community at large into a frenzy.

In the VRMMO space sim Dreadnought, players were able to build and assemble their own ships with the help of in-game build AI. These vessels could range anywhere from puny Strike Class ships, measuring no more than 25 meters, to gargantuan Dreadnought Class vessels which could reach a length of over 7,000 meters.

Now this alone made the game unique from other VRMMO space sims, but what made the game really special were the Titans.

Massive ships, the smallest of which more than quadrupled the maximum build length of player-made ships. They were meant as a sort of wild card, for the game, dropped in by admins at random intervals to wreak havoc on the server.

Every time a new Titan was found, massive, server wide wars would be waged over it. Planets would be razed, citadels destroyed, and entire corporations decimated, all for a single ship.

What made players so crazy for them wasn't the fact they were huge, no, size would only inhibit their combat ability. It was for the Superweapon.

Each Titan came equipped with a unique weapon or ability capable of unspeakable power. It could be anything from an insanely powerful beam, to a wormhole generator for instant travel. One thing was certain however. Whoever possessed, and could afford the cost of manning a dreadnought, was a near unstoppable force.

Erik looked up through the bridge’s viewport. Outside his window, the Massive circular hanger of the carrier gaped open, like a gigantic maelstrom, ready to swallow the Aeos whole.

Ships sailed in an out of the hanger in droves. Tiny specs when compared to the massive ship. As the Aeos entered the massive hanger, he noticed the docking silos. Thousands of them in all directions, forming a circle that stretched back dozens of kilometers. Ships would sail in and out of them like missiles, pulled by the magnetic tractor beams that lined the hanger. Occasionally, he would pass one of the few ships too large to fit in a docking silo. Instead it sat anchored by gigantic arms, as scores of repair nanites poured out from construction nozzles over scorched hull, and broken instruments.

< LCF Aeos, stand by for docking. >

The Aeos lurched again, this time as it was redirected to one of the countless silos, slowly gliding backwards into it.

Erik felt the slight jar as the Aeos came to rest. Held in place by the artificial gravity generated by centrifugal force. As the bay doors sealed shut, and precious oxygen flooded into the silo, it was finally time to disembark.

As he exited the Aeos, Erik noticed the absence of sound. Apart from the whur of the air filtration system, the hiss of fuel being pumped to his ship, and the clank of his boots along the metal catwalk, the silo was near silent.

Approaching the airlock at the end of the catwalk he was greeted by an NPC technician which. Were times really so desperate that their corporation could only afford a single technician to service an entire frigate? He supposed it didn't matter because he only needed it refueled, and a bit of cargo restocked, but it was still cause for concern.

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“Have my luggage taken to my quarters.”

“Yes sir!” The NPC shouted before going about its task of servicing the ship.

Erik walked through the airlock, and stopped in the hallway, “Alice, give me directions to Executive board room.” He said.

“Affirmative, calculating now.” A disembodied synthetic voice said over the ship’s speaker system.

Advanced Logistics and Integrated Combat Expertise more commonly known as A.L.I.C.E. was the Maelstrom’s onboard AI. It cost NOVA Corp a fortune to purchase it, and had originally served onboard their previous flagship, before getting transferred to the Maelstrom after they had found it.

After a short walk through hallways, a 5 minute tram ride, where Erik contemplated why the Tram needed windows when it into went through dark metal tunnels, and another short walk through brightly lit halls, he arrived at a lavish looking door, with a platinum engraving of the Nova company logo on the front.

Well, I can't be too late to the executive meeting right? Erik thought. He stepped forward, and, with a light hiss, the door retracted.

Inside was a large circular table, with a dozen exorbitant leather chairs. Most of them had an occupant, but 3 of them were empty. Many of the Executives were human like Erik, but a few players had chosen to play as aliens. One executive, Lazen, had picked to play as an android. Erik silently slipped into one of the empty chairs, most of the other players seemed too busy to notice him, and were in a heated debate, although Mikhail, another group founder, noticed and gave a light wave.

“I'm telling you, moving the 3rd fleet out of the Ursa Librus System is a mistake. What happens if the Black Syndicate realizes our last functional Capital ship yard is no longer defended? A loss like that would be catastrophic.” Yang said.

“Don't worry Yang, even if the Black Syndicate did realize it, they wouldn't have enough time to get players online and organize an assault before the update.” Another founder, Alvus responded.

“How can we be sure they weren't tipped off by spies? For all we know the Red Suns, or Sithus Conglomerate could be mobilizing as we speak.” Yang said.

“Because the only ones informed were the board of executives.” Mikhail interjected. “Unless one of us is a spy, they won't know what hit em. Besides the other corporations are all preparing for the update too. They wouldn't launch an assault with a fraction of their player base. We have been planning this raid for over a month, it would be pointless to give up now.”

“That doesn't mean we shouldn't be cautious though. If this fails, our corporation is just about finished.”

“Need I remind you that most players are offline at the moment, downloading the new update for when it goes live.”

“I can confirm that.” Aleshia, leader of the newly organized espionage unit for Nova commented. “My spies confirmed just a few minutes ago that they have barely 5% of their players are online. With the added element of surprise we should easily be able to crush their main force, and capture a shipyard while at it.”

“What about the NPCs?” Yang interjected.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Aleshia said, a cunning smile spreading across her face. “When our fleet arrives, the NPC defenders they do have will hold fire and stay docked, giving us more than enough time to seize the station, and all its goodies.”

In Dreadnought NPCs were little more than an avatar, with a basic chatbot slapped on so it could take orders. They were designed by game devs to be used as a disposable workforce for when there weren't enough players to do everything. Most stations, ships, and fleets relied heavily on NPCs.

Theoretically, any player with high enough privileges inside an organization could issue orders to an NPC, and that NPC would obey, as long as it didn’t contradict orders given by a higher ranking player.

It was this glitch that their corporation was banking on. While their infiltrators couldn't outright order the NPCs to mutiny, or hold fire on Nova ships, their higher rank spies could utilize a glitch by telling an NPC to simply not man a control console, transfer controls to the player, or simply leave the ship. For the few Capital and Dreadnought class vessels which their spies couldn't order around they would simply kill the bridge crew and steal.

“What are we going to do about higher rank players ordering NPCs to attack manually over comms?” Mikhail asked.

“Isn't it obvious?” Aleshia said. “Just turn their ship comms system off, or even better we set it to input only to get around pesky security checks. The Black Syndicate will never know what hit them.”

“You can't be sure this won't play out like the Baltara bloodbath.” Yang spat with venom. “We lost a dozen siege ships in that battle.”

“We also didn't have access to the Maelstrom’s wormhole, and were outnumbered 2 to 1. This isn't even comparable.”

“It's your fault we lost that engagement!” Yang shouted back. “Instead of staying to fight, you turned coat and ran. You lost us our headquarters, and nearly cost us the Titan!”

“You’re just mad you lost your favorite ship. Get over it already and quit whining.”

“I’ll have you know-”

“ENOUGH!” Lezan’s synthetic voice boomed, silencing the room. “This bickering is pointless. I see Erik has arrived, so why don't we stop wasting time, and go over the battle plan already.”

“Fine.” Yang glared at Mikhail, who simply ignored him.

Erik stood up and snapped his fingers. The lights dimmed, as the board table lit up, projecting a blue hologram of the Black Syndicate’s massive shipyard complex, and fleet placements.

He took the moment to speak up. “The battle plan is simple. After opening the wormhole, the 3rd fleet under Garren and 2th fleet under Yang will move in to engage station defenses, and what few ships Black Syndicate can scramble. The 5th fleet under command of Alvus will hold back near the Maelstrom and act as support.”

“Aww man.” Alvus groaned. “Why do I have to act as reserves? Why not Mikhail? He loves hiding in the back.”

“Because,” Erik continued, “We all know how trigger happy you are, and that's exactly why we need you to protect the dropships. This whole attack is pointless if we can't take over the enemy shipyard.”

Erik returned his attention to the hologram. “Now as I was saying, siege vessels will target station defenses and shields, while support crafts will swarm any hostile capital ships which infiltrators weren't able to take. After the static defenses are downed, we will send in boarding parties who will be under command of Lezan, Caim, and Adam.”

He waved his hand and the hologram switched to the schematics for the shipyard, with key locations glowing in red. “Lezan, you will be focused on securing player spawn points, while Adam focuses on taking life support to flush the station with CO2 and kill any NPCs that remain on the station. After about a day without oxygen, the base should be clear of enemies, even if they get enviro-suits. Caim your job is to secure the station’s reactor. I highly doubt it, but the enemy might try to scuttle the station. Once the reactor is secure, have an engineer squad cut power to static defences.”

“Aleshia you will be working independently of our main force. Support us with your operatives however you see fit.”

“Now,” Erik said as he sat down. “Any questions?”