What up, Silkies?!

I just finished reading up on everything in the game that isn’t about portal raiding. Turns out, they pretty much built a new world with a functioning economy in Meta Mercs.

Tradeskilling, researching, reselling. There are even paying jobs you can take — so I’m signing up. I didn’t feel like working the chow line or doing construction on the Hub, so I took guard duty. A thousand credits for a ten-hour shift, plus chances for combat-related skill raises.

Sounds sick, right? Hope so, ‘cuz I’m about to start my first shift.

Peace!

***

“You signed up for guard duty?” Jim asked after logging back in. “Noob mistake, man.”

I frowned. “Why? You’re the one who suggested it!”

“Nah. I was just…ya know…listing the options. You should have found some videos on it…”

“Screw it,” I cut in, my frown turning into a scowl. Jim was far too obsessed with letting people on the internet tell him how to play games. “It’s a paycheck. I get actual combat, not just a mauling from space lions.”

Jim sneered. He was still mad that we botched the Limited Portal and had to be locked out for so long.

“It’s boring,” he said. “You stand around getting tiny amounts of XP in Perception and shit. No other faction ever attacks the Hub because the base assault PvP mechanic sucks.”

“What about infiltrators?” I asked. “The guide said something about spotting and arresting infiltrators.”

Jim shrugged. “I guess if you’re lucky. There are NPC and PvP infiltrators. They steal faction points. ‘Spose you could just walk around scanning every single person in the Hub.”

“If I have to, then I have to.”

Jim nodded. “Just make sure your shift is over by tomorrow morning in-game. Three day lockout on the Limited, but we can still do a Quick Raid once a day until then.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I saw that in the guides.”

Even after finding out about time locks, the mechanic still surprised me. It seemed like a lot of players spent a majority of their time locked out of the portal combat — which is why I assumed anyone played in the first place.

Though there were ways to bypass lockouts. Passes bought with real-life money was one of them. You could also shorten the lockout times by playing on higher HFLs, joining a Clan with bonuses in effect, or when your faction spends points to reduce wait times.

And these were all things that had become part of that functioning economy. Not just the manufacturing and sale of weapons and tactical gear, but research, point farming, stat boosting, and all sorts of ancillary trade.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

As for me, the great SilkieKD, feeder of space lions, I had to get to my first work assignment.

***

The devs made it feel like a real guard assignment. I had to report to the Security Department building toward the dome’s center, sit through a briefing, and put on a special uniform by touching an inventory unit in the Security locker room.

Fifteen Ouroboros guards of varying levels filed out of the building and started our patrols. We all looked alike, although we were permitted to keep our personal weapons as long as they fit the Security Department uniform and safety codes. No colorful skins, and nothing that would pose a danger to the dome or its inhabitants. Like no grenade launchers on foot patrol.

It really came across as a legitimate job in so many ways. Thankfully, they didn’t push it to the limit with designated lunch breaks or anything. There were checkpoints scattered around the dome, and that was pretty much how the game tracked our deployment and patrols. Our shift was essentially free to roam the Hub as long as all thirteen checkpoints got scanned every half hour.

“Hey,” a voice game from behind me, accompanied by running footsteps.

I turned and saw a fellow guard catching up. “What’s up?”

“I’m new, too,” he said, fidgeting with his guard issued helmet. “Just started today, and I’m not ready to jump into the raids. Want to partner up?”

“For the patrol? Sure,” I said, shrugging. There were enough guards to scan all the checkpoints even if a few of us teamed up. “I’m Silky.”

My new partner smiled. “I’m Blackrune,” he chuckled as we shook hands. “My name in Lords of Magic. Makes less sense here.”

I laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Not a lot makes sense here, bro.”

He agreed, then asked what my plan was for riding out ten hours of guard duty. I told him my hope was to walk a circuit of all thirteen checkpoints and basically get the full tour of the dome. I’d run ID scans on everyone I saw along the way, and maybe snag an infiltrator.

“Fire,” he said. “We walk, talk, and explore — then get paid for it.”

And that was the gist of it. Blackrune and I walked to the outer wall of the dome and used security access doors — a perk of the job — to reach catwalks that gave us better sightlines around the Hub. We chatted about our experiences in other games, stopping every few minutes to run security scans on the players walking around below us.

“Seems weird that there are only fifteen of us on this shift,” Darkrune said, absently holding up the security scanner to click the next person. “If another faction raids our Hub, we’re the only ones who can access the perimeter defenses. No one else can fight until the attackers are inside the dome.”

I shrugged, also point-and-shooting passersby with my scanner. “My bud told me no one ever does base raids. I guess they’re not fun or too risky or something.”

“I guess…” Blackrune trailed off. He did a double take at his scanner then shoved it in my face. “Is this what I think it is?”

The device’s small screen showed a red indicator around the last person he’d scanned.

OUROBOROS REGISTRATION NOT FOUND

“Oh snap,” I said, trying not to freak out and scare the target. “That’s an infiltrator! Who’d you scan?!”

Blackrune stared back into the crowd milling around ten feet below our catwalk. After a slow sweep, he pointed a gloved hand at someone in a light gray Ouroboros lab uniform. “Him! Is that an NPC or some kind of tradeskiller?”

“I dunno, but stop pointing. If he runs, someone else might get him first.”

Racking my rifle’s action and chambering a round, I took off toward the nearest stairwell. Sure, I could radio in the find and let someone else arrest the infiltrator… but what’s the fun in that?