We head towards a hardcore part of the base, passing by scarred and mean-looking troops, not few wearing the ‘jewelery’ — civility collars. Even if we are the dregs of Delta 413th Army, there are always exceptions. Most of them laze about here when they’re not on duty — the Enhancer’s Lounge. Remember that the easiest way to unlock slots — other than being lucky and having a good integration with the N.O.O.B. Chip is to experience danger. The Lounge is a place where our veterans (as much as they can be in such a recent war) gather to rest and argue about enhancements. And, boy, let me tell you — there is a lot of loud, aggressive arguing as Reader pushes open the double doors.
The wave of sound pushes over us as we enter, seeing a lot of tables with rowdy patrons divided by an invisible line. On the end of the big room is a large bar where old-fashioned soldiers can request their orders to actual persons if they’re not feeling like ordering it with their Chips; on either side of the bar are hallways that lead to different enhancement rooms — divided according to the patrons. The Kitchen is to the left side of the hall, while the bathrooms are to the right — best you don’t mix the two. Meat and watered-down beer — hey, we Brazilians feel specially at home — fill the tables, the soldiers spending their small stipends of extra rations for hearty, human-made fare and drink.
On the left side there are the gearheads, on the right side, the manatics — don’t blame me, I’m not the one who invents this shit. The names are kind of self-explanatory, I believe? The gearheads are fanatics for biomech-implants — exo-gear just doesn’t cut it; while the manatics aren’t pleased with just temporary blessings — they go for arcane rituals. The sides occasionally jeer each other, shouting offenses and throwing food and beer at each other. Both sides are purists and love to debate advantages and disadvantages to death. Most people in the army use both means of advancement however, it’s a more steady way of gaining power. Purists have spurts of growth interspersed with stagnation.
The provocations between the rival groups never really turn into full-blown brawls however. It’s because of the Cook; you don’t mess with the Cook, believe me. She’s a mythic — of a special kind. Remember when the Unity reached earth and sent representatives to deal with all races? One of their drop-ships, carrying none other than Walks Softly, went straight to the Bermuda Triangle — and not the Pacific, facing piloting difficulties even with their drop-ship’s advanced navigation systems to parley with a civilization most thought belonged in horror books. Even The Walker was ruffled after the visit, and he’s not one iota fleshy — it got into his fucking circuits. And they were being hospitable.
Yeah, as I said, suffice to say you don’t mess with the Cook or her people — you’d do best not even seeing one of them unless you have great mental fortitude and their holo-projectors are working. If Cook turns her projector off or it so much as flickers, her Dread Aura will drop you in seconds, making you curl up in terror and spout gibberish until a good level healer can get to you. That kind of trauma is slow to go away even so. Luckily for us (and even more so for our enemies), she’s the only one of her kind in the army as far as I know.
Dread Aura
Natural ability of mythics with connections to the elder planes.
Status Ailments caused may vary from Panic to Insanity or, if there’s severe exposition, Mind Breaking.
Me and Reader march down the divide, ignoring any taunting thrown our way — it’s par for the course. Behind the bar, a big, shining grin more than welcomes us, equally matching in warmth the cold reception of the whole Lounge.
“Fancy seeing you here, Reader! And you’re… Barro, right? With the Flying Pigs, 2nd Brazilian? Good to see you too.”
“Hello, Miss Barbara,” Reader replies coolly, unaffected by her charms.
“Yeah, good to see you too, Miss Barbara,” I answer, a lot more intimidated. She’s a dark-haired beauty, slim and full of curves — the crush of half of the Delta 413th. But she’s also rumored to be Cook’s girlfriend or wife, so she’s completely unattainable.
“What can I get you? And should I contact one of the choppers or chalkers for you?”
“One mug of ale and another of droid-fluids, please,” Reader orders. “And no need, we still have to talk,” I just nod sorta numbly and he pushes me away from the bar.
“You think Deities would want to hear about her? She’s a damn Goddess.”
“I’m always amused as you fleshies like to court annihilation. You remember what happened the last time Cook’s holo-implant glitched, don’t you?”
“Kind of yin-yang goddesses?” I propose, ignoring his repartee, but he waves my tomfoolery away.
“Let’s get serious, Barro. I’ve bought and separated a few things that I thought might interest you. I’ll send you the list, look over it and we can discuss. First the rituals:
** Rituals **
* Seventh Sense Awakening
Enhances the seventh sense, unlocking its potential to detect and feel mana.
Note: Do not use on magically awakened species, might awake the Eighth Sense and cause irreversible insanity.
* Agaran Son of Thunder Ordeal
Grants Electricity Resistance, diminishing the impacts of electricity-based attacks.
Note: Lethality Reduced from 0.02% to 0.01%! Don’t use on Water-based species under any circumstances.
* One with Mana Ritual
Increases Mana Resistance, granting greater tolerance to blessings and diminishing the chances of Mana Poisoning
Note: This is not a free-card to ignore medical recommendations, accompany the progress of the ritual’s enhancement regularly with a psy-doctor.
* Mind Steeling Ritual
Steels the mind against mana-borne intrusions and illusions.
Note: Practice is needed to ward off veteran psych-agents and/or body-snatchers.
* Oro’doan Mana Binding Curse
Locks most of your mana resources. Grants speedier advancement, however.
Note: Contact Oro’doan High Mana-Council in case the Curse becomes permanent for a cure or a refund (only happens on 0.05% of cases).
* Oro’doan Deep Well Sacrifice
Grants ‘deeper magical well’ (bigger mana capacity) in exchange for the sacrifice of one leg or similar appendage. No anesthetics allowed.
Note: The Oro’doan High Mana-Council does not accept liability for decapitations or brain-piercing committed during the ritual.
“Ordeal? Wasn’t those like tying someone to a heavy rock and seeing if they floated? Curses and Sacrifices? Are you trying to kill me?” I look at him, somewhat indignant.
“Don’t blame me, I didn’t make this shit up. And I thought you might be interested in the Ordeal — you’ve suffered a lot under electricity, might be easier than you imagine. Curses have drawbacks — obviously, but they can grant you some of the swiftest advances if you pick them right and withstand them until they have the desired effects. And we can regrow your limbs, don’t be a wimp.”
“Hmmm… There’s something really fucking wrong in these Oro’doans’ fellas heads. Why do they always have to suffer so much?”
“They don’t have heads per se — they shift their brains between their many limbs, and hold as their highest virtue being able to resist pain” the pedantic bastard corrects me, earning another stare for its impromptu class on masochist head-less fuckwits. “And don’t look at me like that — their rituals are the cheapest by far for our levels, and they work.”
“Should I really be drinking if I’m going to do this stuff?” I play for time, gesturing Barbara for another mug.
“Probably no, but your nanites can always act as emergency detoxifiers if we need them to. Focus on picking something,” it admonishes me.
“And what about this damn egg? Won’t it make a ritual go bad? Or won’t the ritual mess it up?” I ask, motioning to the mana-cable connected to me through the back-pack.
“No, not even the curse. Very little of your internal mana is needed, so little . That’s why they sell these ritual kits with mana-filled crystals and totems, so you may take their shaped energy and internalize it.”
“I never actually read much about them, though we did buy these before…” I scratch my head, thinking of what else to say, but Reader scoffs at me.
“Barro? Quit fucking stalling. Tell me what you’re thinking,” says my AI partner, all grown up all of a sudden. I’ll miss his naive, foolish ways of old.
“Okay, okay. No need to blow a gasket on my account. I’m just… unsure about mana now, for some reason? I’m weird?”
“Definitely. But it’s a common reaction for mana-poor worlds’ dwellers.”
“Fuck you, your sorry excuse of a motivational bot.” **BZZZT**
“Spill it, man.”
“All right, all right. I’d love to pick Seventh Sense and become a spell-flinging bad-ass, but that’s just not my job’s priorities. What’s the practical difference between the two Oro’doan ones? I haven’t quite understood those.”
“The Sacrifice is pretty straightforward, grants you a bigger mana pool. But it doesn’t advance by itself the means to use that extra mana, the channels still have the same output. The Curse, however, forces everything to advance as it keeps a larger amount of mana than you can handle locked up until it naturally grows to push through it. You would be overcharged with mana before the Curse to achieve that effect.”
“Isn’t Overmana… bad?” I ask, scratching my head. “Mana poisoning and all? How does that differ from One With Mana?”
“Mana Poisoning is caused by external mana flooding your unprepared body, One With Mana alleviates that to a degree. Internal mana, on the other hand, is held by your mana channels, and Overmana means they are flooded over capacity. It’s not pleasant by any means, but it is far from the same thing. You will be taught exercises to master that Overmana and use it to weaken the Curse’s seals.”
“I see, on to the others then. Getting shocked again? No thanks, that one is out. I assume Mind Steeling might be helpful in the Market, among other things?”
“Yes. You know they sometimes allow magical effects through if they’re bribed enough. And it could be helpful in Lieutenant Santos’ kind of shenanigans. If you catch my drift?”
“Yeah, yeah. Damn, I’m doubtful which one to pick. You have an opinion, Reader?” I ask him, whispering. If one of the manatics overheard it, I’d be dragged into an enormous discussion.”
“No, I don’t. All of these might be helpful, we don’t know what will happen and so we can only guess at the best one,” says it, shrugging.
“Damn, wish we had a Divinator…” I comment, scratching the stubble I should have shaved yesterday. How can I guess what will I need the most?
“Humanity is not talented in that area from the tests the Unity conducted, I’m afraid. And even good Divinators get things wrong from time to time, future saying is an uncertain business the more specific you try to be.”
“Fuck it, I’m going with the Mind Steeling. Besides the Market, I’ll be ready for Caipora shenanigans with my supplies in the future. Or the enemy’s.” Mythics were known to develop magic faster than ordinaries and in time the little dynamos would surely try to use their new spells against me.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Very well. I’ll set the appointment with the ritual expert.”
“Okay. Have you got any good biomech mods? Even if they’re good, I’m somewhat reluctant to let someone who attends by chopper to operate me…” Implants and mods are terms for the same things, I should clarify.
“I’m sure even if they mistakenly chopped something off it would be no big loss to humanity.”
“Blow me, sex-droid.”
“That was the organ I was referring to.”
I chuckle, the banter soothing my nerves a bit.
“I’m assuming you’ll want to keep using your Monocle for now, so I only focused on one-slot enhancements” As I nod, he sends me the data. Two-slots enhancements are five to times as expensive anyway. Usually we only hand them broadly to elite units.
** Bio Mech Implants **
* Companion Droid Controller Module
Controls a chosen Companion Drone. The Companion drone is ruled by an VI and follows commands, having an instinctive knowledge of controllers’ needs and will.
Note: It’s forbidden to keep a VI turned AI locked into a Companion Drone according to most penal codes, as is not reporting the development straightaway. Punishable by death in the Droid Sophocracy.
* Echo Resonator Module
Allows one to make sense of Machine Echos, have a semblance of conversations or negotiations and to impose your will over it if needed.
Note: Imposing your will over a machine is highly inadvisable if it sees constant usage by the handler.
* Appraiser Sensorial Enhancer
Allows user to better evaluate objects with enhanced tactile, hearing and visual senses.
Note: Using enhanced senses to perpetrate felonies voids all warranties.
“Those are very interesting, Reader… I didn’t know we could directly interact with Echoes.”
“Yes, but it’s often fruitless unless you get a knack for it. I would have offered you a similar enhancement in regards to Mana Ghosts, but humanity is a lot more technology based. I’ve bought one to see if we can interest one of your mythics. It can be very powerful in the right hands.”
“Powerful?” I ask, frowning.
“Imagine someone that can convince their enemies’ technology and magic artifacts to stop working in the middle of a fight. They can be a nightmare.”
“Damn, that’s cool… Can I get one of our crates to tell me what’s inside?
“Maybe. But the Sensorial Enhancement would be the reliable way to go for that. That improvement might help you in other ways as well — even in the Market. Standard human senses are pretty bad overall, you were too generalists.”
“Not bad, not bad… And the Droid Controller?” I ask, imagining a faithful cybernetic dog by my side.
“A solid option. But the Droid that comes with the module isn’t the best one - you’d have to buy or trade better ones. Although it might be costly, that can give you versatility. Eventually your companion VI might be able to control more than one vessel at the same time, or you might get another VI with a little loss of capability for the first one.”
“I’m assuming you also don’t have an opinion to give me this time?” Reader shakes its shiny, metal head. “The ritual will already help with the Market, and I’m just not feeling like taking the Sensorial Enhancer even though I’m sure it’s good. The Echo Resonator sounds good, but I think I’ll choose it when I open another slot.”
“So Droid it is?” Reader asks me.
“Yes, if someone is poised to trade for good drones, it’s me. Can you show me the module’s drone?” He complies and I have to swear, “That’s really fucking ugly.”
“It’s was built based on a species considered very beautiful by the designers.”
“It looks like a hover garbage-bin people kicked one too many times.”
Reader chuckles at my colorful take on it, “Yeah, it’s of limited use with its stubby arms. But it can store stuff inside at least.” He holds a finger up to stop my reply. “And I’ve just booked the chopper and he’ll operate you right after the chalker is finished with the ritual.”
We only have to wait for a quarter hour till, chatting and drinking in the meantime, until Reader gestures me up. “The chalker is ready and waiting for you, it’s time,” it says..
“Thanks, Read. See you later, wish me luck.” Before going into one of the hallways, I stop to chat with Barbara and order something special for later.
Man… These choppers and chalkers… What fucking characters they are. But I’m in fucking pain, so I’ll tell you about the crazies some other day. Fuck, this hurts… Nearly three hours of sheer torture. Gaining power sucks.
“So that’s that,” I exit the room, hunched over in pain and groggy, to meet and be promptly supported by Reader.
“Everything alright?” it asks.
I grunt while I’m still trying to get my bearings, and then I comment, “Remind not to do that again, eh?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t so bad. I’ve heard you were fried by an Energy Lance on the other day,” he replies, mirth in his voice as he guides us out of the ever noisy Lounge, waving goodbye to Barbara for the two of us.
“Shit, I’m not making a comparison, I’d just like to stop being subjected do painful shit on a regular basis.”
We’re moving from the threatening Enhancers’ Lounge, so the streets we’re passing through are pretty much empty. Reader stops walking suddenly, which jerks me back a bit, nearly making me tumble to the ground. I turn an inquisitive gaze, and his look at me makes my complain die unvoiced. I swear I can feel anxiety from his pseudo-eyes. “There’s a call for you…” he tells me.
“And why haven’t they called me directly?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. I don’t recall this ever happening before since I’ve joined the Delta 413th.
“Because it’s a real-time-communication. It’s from… Earth.”
“What the fuck? I thought that only Walks Softly and Carries a Longcannon used it. Isn’t it really fucking resource-heavy?”
“You are right, and it is. So I suggest you just take the damn call fast!” says Reader, emergency winning over his shock, franticly gesturing me to hurry up.
“Oka—” before I can finish, two holo-projectors activate from Reads Meticulously shoulders, two of Earth’s most important person on the flesh. Well, not flesh, metal. Shit, I mean holo. Ah, fuck it, you caught my meaning, didn’t you?
“Greetings, Lieutenant Rafael Barro,” says the mellifluous voice of Walker from thousands of space-years away.
“Lieutenant,” much more coarsely, the martial Longcannon greets me as well.
“Sirs!” I snap a textbook perfect salute directly out of my Brazilian Army’s basic training — they don’t have it in the Unity, but it’s still ingrained on me when I meet a major figure. Not that I have ever met someone that came close to this two. Reader is frozen in awe.
“It has come to our attention that you’ve been busy, Barro, bringing us a valuable Space Sensor Array…” leads the good Cop.
“And an apocalyptic political storm. What the fuck has gotten into you, trooper? Gnodarian Slaves of all things?” and then the bad Cop smashes me apart. (And yes, even their Cop is capitalized)
“Sirs! It just happened, I couldn’t sniff after the the sharks’ goods if I had any hope of fooling them, sirs!” I answer, and my fright begins inexplicably to turn into anger — anger at the Earth’s highest authorities that there have ever been. “If one of my dozens of requests for further supplies had been granted, I wouldn’t have to turn to swindling stupid aliens out of their goods for the 2nd Regiment, sir!”
Reader is mortified and rightly expecting the hammer of the gods to descend and smite me for my audacity. Can’t say that I disagree, that’s exactly what goes through my mind after the words leave my mouth. There’s a moment of pregnant silence that grants me pants-shitting terror, and then they react together.
“Hahahahahaha!” the AIs erupt in raucous laughter and I react like a deer in the headlights, my brains and Chip nearly showing a 404 error prompt.
“His mother told me he was rebellious, but this was just so refreshing,” comments Walker, amidst chuckles. Goddammit, mother.
“Yes, but that will be enough lip from you now, Lieutenant,” Longcannnon says as she regains her seriousness, steel in her voice. “You have what supplies we can spare, and we count on the quartermasters’ ingenuity for the rest. We’re on a rough patch, taking too many new worlds in. We must buckle up our belts and endure for the time being. If I have to make do without the ships I think are needed to defend the system, so will you.”
“Yes, sir!” Though I wonder why are they overextending themselves, I don’t ask it. I’ve pushed my luck enough already. But, man, I can’t believe I’ve escaped it! I was expecting to get reamed at the very least. Reader shakes his head silently, probably wondering what the fuck is going on, two powerful AIs taking their time to talk with a meaningless quartermaster of all things.
“You’ve left us in a conundrum with the Gnodarians. We have been debating settling non-affiliated aliens on Earth, but Earth Council has been stonewalling us,” says Walker. Ah, yes, I had forgotten about that little detail. Merda.
“But the only route we can send them from your front is back to Earth, and your planet doesn’t have the capabilities of keeping the Swarm intelligence out of it. It’s too dangerous to send them anywhere else, the Swarm tries to recapture all the Broken people when they are going to be freed,” explains Longcannon. “I do not have the ships to spare on such a mission.”
“But… what has that got to do with me, with all due respect, sirs? I can’t change any of that.”
“No, you can’t. But we are firm believers in having the one who created the mess be the one to solve it,” replies Longcannon, her direct barb striking true.
“We’ll have the Gnodarians stay on your Forward Operation Base, under your supervision, and we’ll allow one of your planet’s news reporter to accompany all of you. Hopefully, the reporter will be skilled and able to pressure Earth Council into accepting them,” concludes Walker.
“But… FOB Pantera is not safe, we were just attacked the other day. The Gnodarians will be in danger! And the reporter too, for that matter,” I protest, making Reader shake his head at my continued audacity.
“Yes, they will,” concedes Walker. “But it’s the best we can do for now.”
“And the Gnodarians are a warrior tribe, I don’t believe you’ll have to hold their hands too much. In fact, it might be counter productive to do so. Just make sure to have them respect our Army’s regulations the most you can.”
“Ah, and free them as soon as you see them, Lieutenant. We do not tolerate slavery any longer than we need to.”
“I… see. Yes, sir! I’ll take care of it then. I’m sorry to have bothered your pressing duties.”
“No need to, this advances our goals though in a roundabout way. We expect good reports, Lieutenant. We need to go. Bye.”
“Follow your orders and do you best, Lieutenant. Walks Softly out.”
Their holograms vanish as they disconnect, and though I’m bewildered with my coming headaches, I turn to Reader with a huge smile.
“Hey, Reader, did you-”
That’s when he punches me — hard — and I see stars as I fall.