11
After a late breakfast I couldn’t find Brellan to say goodbye, so I shrugged and left the Hall. Rain fell in gentle sheets outside, not a pounding storm, but enough to get me thoroughly wet be the time I reached the market. Aircars hovered just above the street, which at least meant no tires splashing in the puddles.
The market was less crowded than before, maybe 20 percent less, but was still crowded enough to lose someone in. Colorful ponchos and rain cloaks obscured well more than half the figures moving from stall to stall, or in and out of buildings. A number of androids marched about, generally ignoring the rain completely. A pack or Mordians strode through the crowd, dripping water on anyone who didn’t get out of the way in time. Very few Fenurians seemed to be about. Go figure, right?
The rain was not the most pleasant rain. None of that “clean earth” smell with regular rains. This was somewhere between sulfur and wet dog. Not overpoweringly strong, at least, but noticeable. Ten silver for a rain poncho became my first expenditure of the day. I could have done 3 for a disposable one, but it seemed like a good thing to have. The range of colors and patterns was astonishing. They came from a kiosk run by a spindly blue-and-chrome android. I browsed the variety on a screen and then it printed the poncho on the spot. I went with a deep green.
The poncho helped a lot. Sure, I was pretty saturated at that point already, but did I mention the rain came down cold? Better equipped for it I was more ready to wander. One of my discoveries for the day was there was no simple, “Common” language. Most of the other races seemed able to speak human, but many of them spoke their own languages among their own kind.
A follow-up discovery was that for 10 gold I could buy language skill chips to learn a language instantly. For 50 gold any cyborg or android could buy an upgrade package that would let them just plug chips like that into our heads. The other option was to own, or rent, a computer with the appropriate neural electrode accessory. I was already hooked up to something like that in real life, it seemed rather meta to do that in here, too. Either way, it was out of budget for now.
I spent a little more time in a shop selling bags. Shoulder bags, duffel bags, purses, backpacks, the works. Pockets only go so far, after all. The shop was arranged by style, with rows and rows, purses and smaller bags on hooks, larger ones on shelves. Small robots hovered about overhead, dropping down closer to make suggestions in voices that might have been female.
I picked up a pair of weatherproof cargo boxes for my belt at 10 silver each, and a backpack for 25 from a dwarf in a sleeveless gray tunic. I couldn’t plan on getting all my gear from looting or from quests. That meant making money. Some I could get from quests, but looting was likely to be a big part. It usually is. That meant having places to put stuff.
Item acquired: Basic Belt Box
This hard-sided box with hinged top is a convenient, weatherproof container for small items.
Durability
20/20
A single compartment can hold up to 2kg of small items.
Item acquired: Basic Backpack
Utilitarian backpack with adjustable straps and extra external pockets
Durability
30/30
Main compartment can hold up to 20kg. Each side pocket can hold an additional 3kg
I spent longer than I expected in a weapon shop. This one was just pistols, but in an impressive array. An orange-skinned Mordian with a deep husky voice perfect for radio waited behind a counter before a wall packed with guns like they were cell phones.
I learned quite a bit about the game’s weapon hierarchy just by comparing what was available. Laser weapons were the bottom tier, naturally. Up from that were pulse weapons, which fired a concentrated pulse of laser instead of a beam. Plasma weapons did more damage in general, but less to armored or hardened targets. Particle beam weapons could be ionized to do extra damage to anything electronic. Like parts of me.
About a dozen laser pistols fell in my price range. Some of them were only cosmetically different from each other. The Mordian introduced himself as Gorranth and we started comparing. He was patient, and I held several in my hand comparing heft and balance and feel as if I knew what I was doing. Some sleeker, sportier ones had better accuracy but less damage. Some bigger, boxier ones did extra damage, but there was always a trade-off, either in accuracy or reliability.
“This one is one of our most popular in your price range,” Gorranth offered, handing me a slightly heavier gun with rounded edges and black trim on a gray frame. It fit well in my hand. “The LaserTech E-100, one of the most reliable weapons you’ll find at this price bracket. Take care of it, and it’ll never go wrong.”
One of my favorite features? It was Weapon Link compatible. Just like the rifle, it was like it became an extension of me. On top of that it could even accept a scope, although at 50 silver just for the scope that was out of budget. For now. Gorranth took my old one in for trade, for all of 10 silver chips. I left his shop with 24 silver remaining, but 1 point of Bargain higher..
Item acquired:
LaserTech E-100 Laser Pistol
A sleeker, well-balanced pistol, tough and reliable. Weapon Link compatible.
Range
Accuracy
Damage
Durability
55m
+5
35
65/65
The rain had ended by the time I’d gotten outside, although sun only fell on select spots. The rain poncho refused to absorb water, which meant that a quick flap and it was dry enough to fold and tuck in one of the backpack pockets. I stood a little taller walking back out into the market. Without any kind of ceremony I had graduated myself out of newbiedom.
About half an hour of people watching later I found Dara leaning against the corner of a more permanent looking booth, her arms crossed. I crossed through some traffic, especially waiting for someone in colorful armor on an even beefier version of Bellan’s airbike. Others moved out of it’s way, too as it zoomed through.
“Hey, Dara. You’re looking less battered.”
“Your face is looking less battered.”
“Touche.” And then the awkward kicked in. It would have been rude to jump straight into, “So, were you able to find anything out,” but I really wasn’t sure what else to say. “How’s the rebellion going,” didn’t feel any better.
“I see you’ve done some shopping,” she said, breaking the silence. “That’s a nice rifle to start with. I’ve used one of those before.”
“It does seem like an upgrade, all in all,” I agreed.
“So, we did some asking around about that elf you’re looking for. She’s been here. Week ago, maybe two. But she showed up with a guy from Fantasal, chainmail and sword type. They were both kinda noticeable around here. We don’t get a lot of Rifters through here. I’m not aware of there being any Rifts here, so they must have come by ship.” She picked one foot up, propping it against the wall behind her with her knee sticking out.
“But, the guy is still around. He’s been poking his nose into things a bit, chatting up a lot of people. Most nights he’s at a bar across town. Felnin’s it’s a...quirky place where people go to hire people to do whatever it is they don’t want to do themselves. Don’t cause trouble in there.”
She uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the wall. “If you get tired of looking for her, or you find her and need something to do, my people could use someone like you.” Her wink could have had a few different meanings. If I didn’t have this mission I would have spent time finding out.
“Thanks,” I replied instead. “I appreciate it. I’ll check the place out. Who knows, I might pass this way again. If I do, I’ll look you up. Say hi to Reck for me.”
“I’ll do that. Take care of yourself. Try not to get your face blown off again. That was gross.”
I filled the afternoon wandering finding some of the little, grind quests for cash and XP. There were no huge rewards, but four 50XP quests add up a little. That and another 85 silver at least made it not a wasted afternoon.
A woman in a reinforced, dark gray technician’s jumpsuit complained about a part she was missing for the cargo lifter she was repairing. Naturally, there was only one place to get it. Just as naturally, the man with the parts was her ex and refused to sell anything to her.
That man, hardly a catch in the looks department with a smooshed looking broad nose that hardly stuck out from his boxy face, was frustrated by a recent shipment of parts that had been impounded “by mistake.” He assured me that the clerk I’d need to talk to wasn’t perfectly loyal, but I might need to be creative.
So I had jogged over to a customs office. A pair of Federalist troopers stood nearby enough to come running to any trouble, while others supervised operations at landing pads and staging areas behind the small building. One side was the customs office, the other was a traffic control tower two stories taller. I prepped myself to see what side quest this guy would have.
This guy turned out to be a woman. A stuffy looking space elf not as attractive as I would have liked. Her properly bureaucratic black tunic was buttoned clear up to her neck. A row of rings ran up the side of her ear, connected by a delicate chain.
“Uh, hi,” I started. Slick, I know. “I’m trying to check the status on a package. I’ve got the ID number here.” I handed her the printed ticket number with a scannable hologram instead of a barcode. Her pained expression showed the true passion she held for her job.
Her counter surface was also a display surface, although it was polarized in a way that kept me from seeing it clearly from my side of the counter. She set the paper down in a marked spot and the display changed. A few quick taps finished the check. The initial result was a frown.
“It was held up,” she explained. “Some of the permits weren’t right.”
“So, what do I need to do?” This time cut to the chase seemed the best route. At least until I knew more.
“Well,” she said, drawing the word out, as she swiped part of the display. “It looks like everything has been corrected. All that’s left is a 10 gold chip fine. Do you have that?” Ten gold, 100 silver. About four times what I had. Wonderful. Not that I really wanted to pay that much for an errand quest. There had to be another way.
“Um, no.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to figure something out.”
This, I figured, could mean a couple of different things. One was I’d have to figure out some other way to replace the shipment. Another was a way to raise the money, which wasn’t terribly appealing. The other possibility I saw I liked better; she could be suggesting if I was creative I could find some way to manipulate the situation, or get her to want to help me. I took the hint, definitely more Charisma next level.
“Bureaucracy, it’s everybody’s favorite thing, right? I know when I had a clerk job once everybody acted like everything was my fault. Like I filled out their forms for them.”
“That’s the way, alright. What kind of desk did you run?”
“I helped out at a licensing office.” True, real-world experience. It was just a seasonal job during college, and I’d hated it at the time. “I think the thing that surprised me most was how easily things fell through cracks.”
“And what are you getting at?”
Her frown and suspicious raised eyebrow were not encouraging. Yet the more I thought about it, the more it seemed I was on the right course. She was really just one of the woman at the prison commissary. This woman probably worked for the Federation, and probably hardly got paid at all. Her job was boring and people treated her like the enemy all day long.
“I know a fees and fines aren’t the same thing, for one. A fee, that’s tied to a checklist somewhere. Those get checked. Fines? Fines are a little different.” I loosened my posture a bit, going for more casual and relaxed. Non-threatening. “If I had the money, I’d pay it and it would go on the books and go away. Would it achieve anything? Probably not. It’s not like it’s going to teach the shipping guy to fill forms our right. Right?” I pulled out two round gold chips, almost all I had, and set them on the counter.
“You probably spend a lot of time watching money go past. I know sometimes I’d see application fees higher than my daily pay.” I nudged the two chips closer across the counter. “But mistakes happen all the time. If you were to...say...accidentally delete the fine, I might be so relieved to find out everything was actually in order after all that I might accidentally leave something behind.” Another nudge closer. “On the counter.”
Her eyes wavered between mine and the money. “That’s true, mistakes do happen.”
I pushed them right to the edge of the counter to the side of her a little. “Maybe you should check the file again, maybe the machine scanned the code wrong or something.”
Her fingers tapped and swiped with well-practiced, efficient movements. One of those movements brought her hand near the two chips, which she swept off the counter. “Oh, my. It seems there was a mistake. There’s no unpaid fine on this shipment at all.”
She push a small data chip, into a slot, dragged something towards it, then handed me the chip.
“Your package is in holding bay nine. Give that to the clerk there and he’ll get you your package.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you do better work than some of the others around here,” I offered with a wink. She smiled back and I wondered how often she did that.
Bribery skill +1 (1)
I got the box, which I exchanged for the lifter part. “Sorry about the fine, I remembered that just after you left. Here’s a ten gold chip to reimburse you,” he said, handing me a slightly larger, octagonal gold chip. I took the part back to the mechanic, who thanked me with a bouncing smile and an offer that if I needed anything repaired she’d give me the friends’ discount.
That and other boring errands filled time. Another troop shuttle came in slow over the town before landing. Finding this knight and getting out of town after Silleste was starting to feel more urgent.
Felnin’s lived up to “quirky” before I’d even stepped inside. The building was designed to look like a crashed silver rocketship straight out of classic 1950’s sci-fi. An opened ramp, complete with stairs, made a canopy over the ground-level entrance. Felnin’s name was right on the side of the ship in big, red, vertical letters.
The inside didn’t fit. Outside, the ship leaned at an angle. Inside, eight levels of ringed balconies ascended straight up. The inside was also larger than the outside. Game physics. Things would have been on the tight side otherwise, of course. Smoke lingered in the air from floor to--as far as I could see, which was about eight balconies.
The inner core of the place was some eight meters, empty except for two shafts of light a meter or so across forming whitish columns in the smoke. A Fenurian in an eye-poking orange cloak stepped into one and rode it upwards, stepping off three levels us. Around that was maybe ten meters to the walls. Each level had a long bar with plenty of seating plus tables and booths and empty space.
A dance club this was not. Also not somewhere I’d want to have a brawl. Especially not on the upper levels, when being pushed or thrown could have painful consequences. While glowing blue railings circled the center where the light elevators were, I couldn’t be certain they were actually solid. The ground floor was the only space open enough for any real dancing, but nobody was.
The biggest Mordian I’d seen yet leaned against the wall plenty close with a menacing axe. The blade on the thing glowed. I didn’t know what that meant, and I was perfectly happy never finding out. Dara’s suggestion of not causing trouble sprang back to mind.
I was a little early for eating dinner, so I played the proper tourist and checked the place out. Each level had a different space theme. While nothing quite broke any copyrights, I recognized each one. The levels also each had a holographic Rift, shimmering black with uneven edges. The patrons pretty much ignored the themed scenery, giving it the feel of sports teams or animal themes painted in parking garages to identify different levels.
The patrons themselves were less eclectic. More than half were human, which seemed about typical of the town so far. Some of the rest mixed together, but largely they segregated themselves.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
A group of Mordians in studded black...fetish gear?...laughed and drank at a large booth, the only ones on that level. Space bikers, of course. The shiny gold android waiter seemed appropriately uncomfortable as it moved in and out of interaction distance as quickly as it could. Two levels up seemed an okay place for me to hang out and eat.
A naked, black and white tiger-striped Fenurian brought me a bowl of wriggling green worms and an utterly opaque blue drink in a very clear glass for one silver. A pack of six other Fenurians lounged at a booth with no table, passing around drinks they all seemed to be sharing. I saw a cargo harness on one, a long poncho on another. One wore a slinky red glittery dress slit for her tail. The waitress was one of only a few I’d seen completely naked. Again, though, when you’re covered it fur it’s not really the same.
The worms were moving, still alive, in varying shades of green, decently sized like big earthworms. They didn’t look very appealing, big surprise there, but at least I could call them worms. There had been a few prison meals with lumpy mashes that nobody could agree on how to identify. They weren’t bad, but weren’t good either, although they did come with an impressive Focus recovery boost.
Almost enough to offset the Focus recovery debuff from the drink. The drink was actually pretty tasty, although it could have just been mouthwash that someone managed to actually taste like fruit. Not something I’d order to-go, that’s for sure.
Music wafted about the place like the fog, although the fog did a better job of staying in the center.
After I’d eaten I spent a couple of hours moving from level to level, still avoiding the Space Bikers, trying not to stay anywhere suspiciously too long alone with nothing to do but watch people.
When a guy showed up in chainmail, I was pretty sure he was the guy. He kind of stood out, not only for being about a head taller than me and burly to match. Light glittered off chain links from collar to about half down his thighs. A big, stereotypical shield hung with a rifle on his back over a white cloak, which was itself fastened under a set of white shoulder plates that looked plastic but probably weren’t.
I stood up, watching him right the light to one level above me, one short from the top. I circled around to the light shaft elevators to ascend on a column of light myself. What can I say, it still amused me. The music, coming from a small band of space elves on six, was a little quieter on nine as I stepped off.
Banners of futuristic space trooper regiments lined the walls, one for each table. The one behind the knight was a gold gauntlet on blue. A waitress in a crisp navy blue uniform with white piping took his order on a tablet.
“Mind if I join you, good sir knight?” I asked him, letting him have a hint I wasn’t a local NPC, but another player aware we were in a game, albeit a deadly game we were trapped in.
“Have a seat,” he offered as he leaned back in his chair. His voice matched the chiseled face that suggested to me someone overcompensating for not feeling “manly” enough. You know the face: squared jaw, sturdy chin, the fairy-tale price look, with the perfect clean-cut blond taper cut to match. I lowered myself into a chair, deliberately choosing one just off from straight across from him. I didn’t want my back to the open core either.
“Do I know you?”
“No,” I replied, “but I’ve heard of you.” He perked right up at that one. Who doesn’t want to be a little famous, right?
“Only good things, I hope,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, I need some help, and I was referred to you.”
“Ah. Then you’ve come to the right place,” he declared, louder than I would have liked.
The waitress returned with a platter. He had spent more for a big steak and something dark in a mug. He asked her to bring a mug for me as well, waving off my attempt to say he didn’t need to. He waited for her to walk off before saying anything else.
“So, how do you like this game so far?” he asked. Filling in time until she came back with my drink, probably. He cut a strip off the steak and cut that into individual bites.
“Well, I haven’t died, so that’s a good thing. The whole can’t-log-off thing kinda bites, though.”
“Yeah, they really left that out in the literature.” His eyes lowered, as did the corners of his mouth. “That took some real adjusting to. I’ve heard that if we die in here we die out there, too.”
“I’m pretty sure that one’s true,” I agreed, not willing to say I knew that when I came in. It was too early for him to start questioning my sanity. I had already done enough of that myself. Those last whispered words from the Secret Service guy still hadn’t left me: “If she dies in there, so do you.”
“I have a wife and kids on the outside. So at least I’m pretty sure my meat body’s being taken care of. There’s a rumor going around though that if your body out there dies we continue in here and don’t even know it happened.”
“That’s a creepy thought,” I admitted aloud. “But I’m sure people are working on fixing it. There’s gotta be a million people in here.”
The waitress came back with my mug, an interruption I was more than ready for. If Silleste died before I found her, would I even know?
“So, what kinda help are you looking for?” he asked once she had marched off with her crisp military precision.
“Looking for an RL friend of mine. In here her name’s Silleste.” I tried the drink. It smelled like coffee but tasted more like rootbeer with both caffeine and alcohol.
The guy tensed up at the name, and his right hand moved a little closer to where he’d be able to reach his sword.
“I heard you two came here together from Fantasy Land. Did something happen?”
“Who are you?” he demanded in a lowered voice.
“Whoa,” I tried with my hands out. Perfectly non-threatening as long as the claws stayed in. If he did make a move for his sword I’d have the edge. Totally worth the points I’d spent on that in the beginning.
“We were attacked. Now tell me who you are.” This was not going where I expected. Okay, fine.
“All on the table, then, I’m Max,” I started. “Did she tell you anything about her life outside?”
“Only a little bit. She lives with her parents, I know that much. There had been enough warnings not to talk about it. Where are you going with this?”
“Yes, she does live with them, her mom, anyway. Her mom is...a powerful person, with a lot of influence. And she’s worried about her daughter being trapped in here. I came in to find her and keep her safe until they fix it so we can log off again.”
“Bullshit.”
“Really? You think I’d make that up?”
“You expect me to believe you came in here willingly, knowing you couldn’t get out?”
“And knowing that thousands of logged-in people have died, probably because their toon did. It’s true. We die in here and we die in RL. It’s also true that people are working outside to fix it. We just need to hang on until they do. And, yes, I came in here voluntarily.”
“Why? If you’re telling the truth, why would you do that?”
“You ever heard the expression, ‘an offer I couldn’t refuse’?”
“What, money?” The raised eyebrow lifted more into incredulity.
“Not quite.” I took a deep breath. Was I ready to trust this guy? No. Did I have much choice? Also no. “Our bodies are in the same room. If she dies, I die. And I don’t buy the idea that we continue in here if our bodies die.”
He stared at me intently, and time dragged. I took another deep breath and waited his response.
“I think I believe that,” he concluded. “I’m Sir Altion Relwick.”
“Thank you, and well met. Do you know where she is?” Well met may have been a little disingenuous, but I was still dealing with somebody getting to be the knight of his own personal fantasy.
“Nope.”
Great. Perfect. Big, shiny dead end. I had just put a lot of faith into someone I didn’t know from Adam, for what?”
“Not really, anyway. She’s off planet, by about five days.”
I kind of snarled at that. It fit my mood right, and I needed to express it somehow.
“We were attacked,” he began, leaning forward for a long story. “Mercenaries or bounty--”
The story was interrupted by a glob of something green missing him and hitting the wall behind him, splattering threads that hit his chair and the table and seemed to solidify almost immediately.
I whirled to a stand out of my chair, which clattered to the floor behind me. My new pistol was in hand without a thought. To the right was the long bar with a few people--mostly aliens--who hadn’t yet turned to see what was going on. Directly across, before a line of empty booths, an elf with muscled arms and an obvious armor vest pointed the kind of oversized rifle perfect for the space marine theme of the level we were on. The elevator light shafts dominated the left side, with open space around them.
Altion wasn’t far behind me pulling out a sword and slinging his shield. He had destroyed the table getting it out of his way. Gotta love tanks and their high strength scores.
The guy got another shot off before I could, and it splatted against Altion’s shield. Green threads shot out from the splatter, reaching out into empty space. They evaporated instead of hardening. So contact with something else was important. I dropped to one knee and fired a brace of shots that missed. But it drew the man’s attention as Altion charged.
I dove out of the way of the next shot and returned several. I hit him once, doing much less damage to him that I would have liked. I had a feeling Altion’s sword would make a mess of the guy, especially since the fighter had been in the game longer and had to be higher level than me. So me keeping the guy distracted seemed a solid plan. It would have been, if our attacker had been alone.
Two men in similar vests stepped forward a level above with rifles. Helmets with partial visors probably gave them armor and stat boosts and who knew what other bonuses. Twin, sustained lines of red hatred lanced out, and they walked the lines into me, searing lines into the floor behind me before they carved into me. Together the two attacks knocked down nearly a third of my health.
A lot can be said about the value of experience and training. Real soldiers train and practice constantly so that when it’s needed it’s right there. Firefighters, police officers, race car drivers, whatever, the key is not having to stop and think to know what to do. My real-life combat experience amounted to little more than a six week free trial of some karate classes and a friend inviting me to a gun range a few times.
But I’ve spent a lot of time with online computer games. Player-Vs-Player, PVP combat does a lot to teach you how to react quickly. There had been times in the past I’d worried that maybe I spent too much time in games. You have a lot of time to think about things like that in prison. That’s about all you get to do. Now, however, all that time was butt-saving. I didn’t have to pause and think about what to do. Like any conditioned response, the stimulus happens and the response can be automatic. Their weapons were going to slice me up at range.
So I jumped. I leapt right at them, pushing hard to get the most out of the jump boosters in my back and feet. Altion would have to deal with one on his own. If I took on two and left him one and he complained? That would be later, if I was still alive at that point.
Both stood fairly close to the edge, so getting to them wasn’t hard. I was still going up with some momentum on my side. I hoped it would count as some kind of charge attack. Claws came out on the way, and I hit the guy on the left with a power attack punch with them right to the chest as I slammed into him. Fifteen Stamina to do 45 damage to the guy seemed a good trade. We both went down in a tumble. I tried to get to my feet quick. The standing guy might or might not try shooting me at point-blank range, so I was going to roll up. If the guy missed me he’d gank his partner.
Or at least, that was the plan. The guy grabbed me from behind and threw me. I smashed into a table, knocking it over and ending up behind it. I was pretty sure I would have taken damage from that if I hadn’t picked up some armor along the way. In any other World I’d probably have crashed through the table, but there didn’t seem to be much wood furniture in space. I know, right? But I was behind a sturdy table and my gun was still in hand.
Twin beams drew lines up the table as I came up to aim. Being able to just walk the beam to their target gave them an edge in accuracy that made it hard to focus. A little bit of Focus traded in aiming time netted a handy critical hit, taking the damage up to about 50, which added to the claw wound to take him to about two-thirds his Health.
I got down behind the table just as the red beams sliced through where my head had just been. Oh, for a grenade. I needed a plan.
Motivation to come up with one came in the form of a green grenade. Jerks! My jump boost cooldown was over, so I grabbed the edge of the table, its legs pointing away from me, and I leapt with all I could. I couldn’t see their faces to find out what kind of reaction they had to that. Honestly, they should have seen it coming. I’d already shown I was a jumper. It didn’t seem they had, though. I slammed into both and knocked them down. The grenade went off behind me, hurling sticky green fibers that hardened whenever they hit anything. None of them got me. Lucky.
The table moved under me as they both pushed at it. I really wanted to see at least one of their rifles loose on the floor. Not that lucky, apparently. I rolled to the edge, whacking my leg on a table leg, but able to reach under the edge with my left arm. I heard the cry and felt some resistance as serrated blades found something fleshy to bite into. The table flipped, dropping me to the floor before it tumbled over the edge to fall far enough to account for a breaking sound when it hit the floor.
The two made moves to get off their backs. I was already on my side and able to get up faster and come down hard with my claws right into one of their faces. The head hit yielded an unexpected double damage modifier and finished that guy off.
+200XP (3800)
His partner was the barely hurt one, though, and that guy kicked me hard with a power kick to the gut that tossed me right to the edge of the round, open core with barely more than half my Health. His rifle came up. I tried to roll away but he followed me, scorching my thigh. I kept rolling until I was face up and I shot at him, squeezing the trigger as fast as I could, but the did the same thing. His damage output was definitely higher. Not a workable plan!
I rolled more, further away from the opening, and up to my feet. He was still hosing me with his laser, so I charged him. He was readier for that than I planned, and he even dodged to my right so I couldn’t just slash at him.
“Look out!” Altion bellowed. A pulse blast that I would have sword had blue electricity swirling around it barely missed me and scarred the floor. Someone one level up again. What was it with these people? Altion rode a column of white up and past me, going after the new attacker.
I whirled as the jerk I still had to deal with was bringing his rifle around. A helmeted figure with breasts and hips fired now at Altion, confirming the whirling blue electric effect. An ionized weapon, which at least shouldn’t have extra effects on the fleshy Fighter, who took it on his shield. There wasn’t time to see how he was doing, other than his Health bar was not full. The man with the rifle, about a third of the distance from me to the edge, was already firing again.
Range was not an option. Pistol versus rifle was not an option. I needed something drastic. He’d dodge left--my right--if I charged him. Fine, that would work for me.
I didn’t just charge, I leapt, going for all the momentum I could muster. I aimed right, anticipating his dodge. He did dodge to his left, enough to foil a claw attack. That wasn’t my plan, though. I bull-rushed him, full-on running back flying tackle with enough momentum to push both of us out into the open core.
His feet banged the floor right at the edge, stealing some of his momentum and setting him spinning. Just enough jump thrust was still going to push me further out than him. He fell away while I hurtled across the space, not fast enough.
+200XP (4000)
I reached out with my alloy hand to grab a floor to catch myself, half expecting my arm to be torn from my shoulder. No pain ripped through me, although I spun as the claws caught only enough to partially halt my fall and redirect myself. I tumbled, flopping across the floor below until I came to stop at a booth of people staring at me slack-jawed.
“Excuse me, sorry about that,” I said as I worked my way to my feet with full Health. I’d leveled up again, but that was something to deal with later. My pistol was still alive in my hand, with one shot left, after all that. Game physics are good. In the real world I was pretty certain it would have gone skittering away at some point. I limped to the edge, knowing full well now the glowing railings were solid enough to feel but not enough to prevent falling. The sprawled figure on the floor was not moving.
Several floors up Altion traded blows with the helmeted woman, who now swung a baton that sparked dramatically when it stuck the fighter’s shield. They circled each other. The woman was about half dead. Altion drank a potion with his shield hand, shooting his Health bar from the barest sliver to a little under the halfway mark. Good call, but maybe cutting it a little too close.
As quick as I could I holstered my pistol and unslung my rifle. I brought it up, letting the scope’s physical image overlay with the one it fed me though my hand. I aimed on the inhale, again trading Focus for accuracy, as they circled.
The fighter swung his sword, and although she had cuts in several places she dodged most of his swings. The woman jabbed or swung the baton, and Altion mostly blocked with his shield. Every time it hit him sparks flooded across him and he staggered. I followed her as she circled and when she lunged forward to take advantage of him being dazed I fired.
Fourteen points of Crit damage added to the 40 from the rifle. Her armor’s Toughness undoubtedly reduced that, so her Health bar dropped about a third of what she had left, putting her somewhere about a hundred, I estimated. Sheesh. I really needed Crit damage to be higher, or get a headshot bonus. A shot like that would be hard they way she was ducking and moving avoiding his sword. I had interrupted her attack, though, which might have saved Altion.
“Strength, be-yotch!” he yelled as he took full advantage of her minor distraction. He slammed into her with his shield, pushing her back just far enough to teeter at the edge. I started aiming as she wheeled her arms for balance only to watch her fail and fall. I followed her down, watching her slam into the floor hard enough to crack it. She landed flat on her back, and wasn’t moving. Now I had a moment to check the level.
Level gained! (5)
+18 Health (234)
+18 Stamina (384)
+15 Focus (166)
+5 Primary Characteristic Points
+10 Skill Points
The +5 went straight into the Charisma I’d been yearning for. I figured that had to help. Skill Points took more thinking about. In the end I went with 4 into Bribery and 6 into Melee Combat, bringing them to 5 and 15 respectively. Bribery was certain to get used again, and if I kept getting into situations where my claws were all I could really work with, then I needed to be better with them. Both reasonable choices. Strength I bumped up to 20.
“Hey, you okay?” Altion asked me as he approached, having ridden the light elevator down.
“Yeah. It was close, but I leveled up. So all good now.”
“Cool. That was fun.”
“Fun...,” I repeated skeptically. Okay, it kind of had been, but fights like that were always more fun when respawning was an option.
“Well, you leveled up and we’ve got bodies to loot,” he pointed out. I couldn’t argue with that, so I followed him up to the one who had started the whole thing. The guy’s clothes were a mess. It had clearly taken quite a few sword cuts to take the guy down. Blood was a thing in the game. The final blow had been to the side of his head, chopping the point off the top of an ear.
“No money on him at all,” Altion pointed out. “Pretty sure that means hired mercenaries who didn’t want to risk losing things if they got captured, and didn’t want us getting money for killing him. A shame, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Not the first I’ve seen, but we’ll get back to that.”
Altion claimed a pair of grenades and tossed me the bulky rifle.
Item acquired:
G&R PR-10 Plasma Rifle
This solidly built rifle is designed for battle. Rugged and reliable, it fires bolts of superheated plasma. Integrated Gelcaster in underbarrel mount.
Range
Accuracy
Damage
Durability
90m
+10
85
73/80
Plasma damage has greatly reduced penetration against hard armors, effectively tripling the Toughness those armors provide.
Generic Gelcaster
Gelcasters fire a capsule filled with gel which can spread or splatter on impact. Uses five-round compact magazines.
Range
Accuracy
Damage
Durability
30m
-10
By Ammunition
50/50
WebSplatter Gel
Limited area splatter Snare effect, Duration depends on target Strength.
“Huh, so that’s what that stuff was,” I said. “I’m glad that stuff didn’t actually get either of us.” The fighter just nodded. We moved down to the one I killed who had not fallen. Under his helmet he was young, barely twenty if that. At least I was pretty sure most of these had been NPCs Maybe not the woman leading them, but that was just a guess. Again, no money and only carrying the basics.
The laser carbine wasn’t a bad weapon, but did not have a Weapon Link and wasn’t designed for a scope. Altion wasn’t interested in it, so I took it as sellable loot. At his suggestion I did take the kid’s vest and helmet, stashing both in my pack for now.
Item acquired:
Polymer Armor Vest
While not terribly discreet, this vest does help reduce damage from energy weapons.
Toughness
Resistance
Durability
+5
+20
32/50
Item acquired:
Polymer Armor Helmet
This simple helmet is upgradable and offers some protection against Flash effects.
Toughness
Resistance
Flash Resist
Durability
+5
+10
+20
46/50
“Did you get XP for the chick?” Altion asked as we rode the elevator light shaft down to the floor--a floor conspicuously devoid of dead bodies. A smear of blood ran from where one had fallen to the door. One had survived and dragged the other away.
“No, I figured you did, since I barely helped on her.”
“Okay, then. She got away. Damn. I wanted a look at her rifle.” Disappointment rang in his voice. “Let’s get away from here.” Again, I had no argument with that, and followed him.