Orion released his grip and rolled to his feet. He stood up and loomed over the beast, assuming a fighting stance. But the black dog just lay there, the back of the saddle crumbled from the impact. Paws up, belly exposed, all four eyes looked away while casting brief, worried glances at the him.
[Cyworg would like to form a partnership with you. Accept? Y/N?]
Orion was startled by the sudden popup in his vision. This must have been what Apus was talking about. He’d overpowered the cyworg, and could be made his combat partner. Orion selected ‘Yes’ immediately. Orion’s HUD closed briefly, then assaulted him with notifications. For once, he wasn’t under extreme duress so he read them instead of just swiping them away.
[Orion Starbeard has reached LVL 7!
+10 unspent ability points available!]
[Warden LVL 5 Reached!
New building recipe available: Stables. LVL 1 Stables can house up to 5 partners at once. Stables act as a spawn point for partners. When Partner health reaches 1 HP, they are teleported to stables to prevent dying in combat. Health regen increases 25% when a partner is housed in stables.
Two Active Partner Slots available.]
“Partner?” Orion turned to Apus questioningly.
Apus pointed a wing to the submissive cyworg, “In this context it means something like a ‘hunter pet’. Considering many alien beasts have high intelligence, the word ‘pet’ could be considered demeaning.”
Orion put his hands on his hips and thought about this. A giant space wolf would be extremely useful, especially if he could understand complex plans. Apus had a point. ‘Pet’ didn’t sound right, and neither did words like ‘Livestock’ or ‘Cattle’. ‘Slave’ was a huge red flag. Partner it was! Orion continued reading.
[Cyworg: LVL 7 Mount
Cyworgs are cybernetic canines that form strong attachments to Orgs they deem worthy. This is often determined through combat or acts of kindness. Fierce, intelligent, loyal, these clever animals have been integral to Org society since the dawn of their civilization.]
[Would you like to rename partner now? Y/N?]
Delighted, Orion selected Yes and the HUD pulled up the naming screen. It took only a few seconds to come up with the perfect one. Smiling, he typed in ‘Major Canis’. The screen closed, leaving Major’s stat screen. The cyworg was in bad shape, heavily damaged. Orion knew he was responsible and the thought made him feel extremely guilty.
“You can use your warden skills to heal Canis, Sir,” Apus suggested helpfully.
Orion brightened. He pulled up the Packleader skill tree and there it was, 'Mend Partner'. It cost one skill point to unlock and he used some of his newly acquired points to do so. He placed his hands on the furry body and activated Mend Partner, green holographic crosses floating up from the wounded animal.
Orion grimaced. He could feel ribs under the fur. The poor thing must be starving. Orion looked over his shoulder, “Commander, could you replicated some meat for him? This poor guy is all skin and bones. And, admittedly, metal. Maybe if we feed him he’ll be less on edge.”
Slate was still staring staring at the huge carnivore, a white knuckled grip on his rifle. He was panting heavily, which was probably the smart reaction to a predatory several times heavier than you were. Concerned, Orion waved a hand in front of his face, “Commander?”
Slate flinched and looked up at Orion. Rather, Orion had a feeling that whatever Slate was looking at wasn’t standing here in the present with them. He made a note to ask about his title later, Commander probably wasn’t an official term for warden.
“Slate?” Orion tried again.
Slate’s eyes focused, and he looked puzzled. “What?”
Orion tried again. “Could you replicate some meat from the cafeteria?”
Slate took a shaky breath and nodded, “Right. Yes. I’ll be right back.”
As Slate ran towards the kitchen, Orion returned his focus to healing. Realizing he wasn’t in any immediate danger, the cyworg rolled back over, laying down on his legs. By the time he’d finished buffing out the damages, Slate returned with a plateful of juicy raw meat. Canis snarfed it down like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“If you’re the one stealing my kills, why are you so hungry?” Orion asked.
“I am so sorry I shot you,” Slate stammered. “I-I thought I was protecting you!”
Orion stood up, “It’s fine, I’ll walk it off. I get it. From your perspective you just saw a bunch of people under your care get killed by an invading horde of robot monsters like, yesterday. And up runs a black cyborg doggo, snarling and snapping at you. And you don’t know me from Adam, how would you know I could handle it? I didn’t, either. That was reckless of me. But I’m fine, see?”
Orion pointed to the shoulder wound, then showed the gaping wound in his hip. Orion could already feel the itch of his wound knitting together, and they could both visibly see the holes closing. Blood still smeared the injuries, but Major stood to lap at his bite wound apologetically. Orion scratched the canine behind the ears to show there were no hard feelings.
“That being said, I am a mess,” grumbled Orion. “Look, why don’t we skip spelunking for now? Maybe even take a few days off while you get used to the new place? We can tidy up a room for you to stay in the meantime.”
Slate brushed his hands down his space suit, “Yes, I do need to freshen up now that you mention it. A few days to get my bearings couldn’t hurt. I have some spare clothes in my office. I can sleep there so long as my couch survived. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“If not I can make you a new bed,” Orion offered. “Let me know if your office needs repairs and I’ll fix it right up.”
They split off to wash up and unwind from the stressful day. As Orion stepped out of shower in only a towel, he was greeted by Canis laying in front of the door. The plate was sitting in front of him. It still had a steak on it, but Canis whined.
“What is it, boy?” Orion inquired.
Major whimpered again and leaned forward, nudging the plate closer with his snoot.
Orion squatted. “You want more food? But you still have food.”
The pitiful whimpering grew in urgency and Orion started to get upset in sympathy. “Okay, more food. Who am I to argue?” Orion reached for the plate slowly, but Canis didn’t snap at him. He carried the steak to the colony base. “Follow me, boy.”
The huge dog dutifully padded after him through the halls and into the kitchen. Orion printed another steak and dropped the warm meat on the plate. Another whine.
“Perhaps it’s not for him,” Apus suggested. “Maybe there are other cyworgs, and that’s why he’s been taking the risk to hunt here.”
Orion asked, “Is that it, boy? Are there more cyworgs out there?” He watched Major’s ears flicked forward, mouth opening in a canine smile. Orion set his jaw determinedly. “Right then. Let’s get cooking.”
Orion printed out more streaks. When Major tried to clumsily hold all of them in his jaws, Orion examined the kitchen and found a tablecloth. He wrapped the meat in it with some ice from the fridge to keep it fresh, and tied the end closed with enough leftover space to create a handle.
Pleased with his haul, Major walked back towards the front doors, his nails making a happy staccato of clickity clacks on the linoleum floor. Orion followed, getting whacked by the happily wagging tail. When they got back outside, Major took off.
Orion frowned. “Wait, did you want me to come with you?”
Major stopped and turned. His front legs dropped down and he lowered the food. He then jumped up, ran back a few feet before dropping down again, then up and ran forward again and dropped.
Orion looked relieved, “Oh, you’ll be back. Okay, I’ll make a stable for you. If I’m gone when you get back, just let yourself in.”
Major barked and grabbed the sack again, running off excitedly.
Orion whined, “I miss him already. So, Apus…How do we build an underground stable?”
A few days later, Slate found himself staring down at the underground city. A lot of unanswered questions suddenly made a lot more sense. New ones started to form in his mind, such as how something like this could exist? How did no one know about this planet if it was inhabited? And were there more cities? If there was an undamaged city, they might be able to send a signal home. And why was the signal blocked off in the first place?
Orion, seemingly oblivious to Slate’s internal turmoil, was already making a bridge across more roofs heading in the direction of the taller buildings. Slate watch his progress, still impressed by the Multipurpose Universal Tool. Orion had demonstrated its use while building the new stables and repairing the hangars, but it still seemed otherworldly. The Org had offered to build him one, and he originally declined. Slate wasn’t the creative type. However, Orion convinced him that the digging and scaffolding settings would be handy if they got separated in the underground. It sat on his hip now, and Pewter was researching its settings.
Slate approached Orion. “Where are you going?”
Orion kept working for a moment, then glanced at Apus on his shoulder. He took his headphones and turned to him. “What’s up?” whispered Orion.
“Where are you going?” he repeated.
Orion winced and put a finger to his lips. “Keep your voice down,” Orion said in a low voice. “We don’t want to alert the neighbors.”
The Org pointed and Slate looked in the direction. It took a few seconds but then he saw them. They looked like metal sculptures at first, but some of them were slowly moving around. They looked like smaller versions of the robots that attacked the base.
Slate nodded and pulled out his rifle, taking aim. “I’ve got this.”
Orion raised his hands in a placating fashion. “Easy, killer. If you fire, the noise will attract more. And they have this siren sound they make to alert others. And they’ll send the big guys, and our trip is fucked.”
Orion turned back to his work. “Besides, they’re not hurting anyone. I’m pretty sure they are the people who lived here before. Save the ammo for when we’re under attack. As for your question, we’re heading to the city. I’ve scavenged this area pretty well. If we’re stocking up on materials, that’s where we need to be.”
Slate squatted and watched the robombies shuffle around. His helmet visor zoomed in and he examined them. They looked mostly humanoid.
“What do you think they were?” Slate asked quietly.
“Orgs.”
Slate almost yelled but continued more quietly, “That’s impossible. Orgs have been gone for centuries. Lost in the Gate Wars.”
“Explain this, then.” Orion tossed him something.
Slate caught it and almost dropped it when he realized what it was. It was a tusked skull with a blackened metal implant on the frontal bone.
“I found it inside of one of the big guys,” Orion explained. “When you break down the robombie bodies, they're full of bones. I think they used to be people and something happened to make their hardware go haywire.”
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“There are rumors of a lost Org Homeworld. But Orgæa is supposed to be a myth.” Slate tucked the skull away, “When we get back, we should get the Medical Bay up and running. We can perform some tests on this.”
Orion agreed, “It would be good to have confirmation.”
Slate looked at the robombies again and shuddered at the implications. Wanting to distract himself he pulled out his MUT. “Let’s get going, then. Now, how do you work this thing?”
It took several days to cross the suburbs to get to a more urban area. Larger buildings started to appear, forcing them to build the scaffolding into upward ramps. They crossed into an industrial district filled with factories, office buildings and warehouses.
Along the way they built base camps on flat roofs. Orion had wanted to build tree houses to prevent the robombies from climbing up, but the palm trees were too thin and spread out to support the weight. The temporary shelters allowed them to retreat and scavenge a bit when the robots became aware of their presence. Thankfully they seemed to lack any real object permanence.
It was the evening of the third day, and the orange sun was dipping towards the horizon of the damaged dome sky. The city was getting closer, big skyscrapers appearing just a dozen blocks away. The skyscrapers were tall, chunky and uneven, much like the robombies themselves. Extended rooms and odd antenna stations were built onto the sides of some of them. Neon lights highlighted the facades, still flickering after centuries of neglect. Neon signs and animated billboards, the ones that still worked, showed commercials for products and pilots for upcoming prime time sitcoms.
The strangest thing of all was the tops of the building. Most of the roofs were covered in vibrant green plant life. Bushes and trees were growing on some, but all of them were covered in leafy greenery. Thick flowering vines climbed down the sides of the buildings, and in some cases, connected to other buildings.
“Talk about a concrete jungle,” whispered Orion.
Orion watched Slate stare at a billboard with a busty Org woman advertising Tusk Paste. Slate stated, “You’re right. This is an Org planet. We’ve seen no evidence of any other species here. The pictures, the art and architecture, even the language is all in Orgish.”
“You can read it too?” Orion asked.
“No. I should be able to read it, but Orgish is a dead language.” Slate tapped his implant, “Built in translator. Standard issue in the Galactic Navy. It’s the only way we’re able to communicate.”
“Oh, weird,” pondered Orion. “I guess in all the excitement, that didn’t even occur to me. I must have one too.”
Apus answered in his head. ‘All player characters have built in translators. They even work on Earth languages.’
Orion beamed, ‘Neat!’
They built up to one of the closest skyscrapers and examined the flora. It looked different than the purple plants Orion had seen. Nothing seemed dangerous. Pewter was even able to identify some bushes that grew edible berries.
Slate popped a berry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Think these would grow on the surface?”
Orion tried and identify the plants. “No idea, my 'Botany' skill is too low. My build is focused more on animals than plants.”
Slate shrugged, “we should bring some with us. They seem to be thriving down here.”
“Maybe, but I think we should research what these plants are first. They could be an invasive species. It could cause an ecological disaster. Look there.” Orion pointed to a thin waterfall trickling down from a missing panel in the dome. “I think that’s what caused it. Those missing panels probably dropped dirt down on these buildings, and water from an underground river trickled down to create damp soil. If these seeds spread this much on metal and glass buildings in artificial sunlight, imagine what they’d do to the surface.”
Slate tapped his foot on the roof they stood on, the metal roof making a hollow sound. He looked pensively at the overgrown roof and conceded, “Agreed. It’s too risky. Maybe when Dr. Birchett wakes up, ze can examine the local flora. If ze survived.”
“Ze?” Orion inquired.
Slate looked up at the Org, “Doctor Birchett uses Ze/Zem pronouns. Ze’s a Zylvaan, and zeir race has about four genders.”
“Rad!” Orion exclaimed. “Makes sense, the primes races are all vastly different from each other.”
Slate nodded thoughtfully and asked, “Do you think that water is drinkable?”
It took an hour to reach the roof. The sunset was a peaceful backdrop while they worked, a picturesque blending of pinks and oranges. The purple starry sky and the twin moons were out in full force, with the neon lights of the city glowing around them, no flashlights were needed.
From their new vantage point, Orion could see that this wasn’t the only damaged panel with water pouring from them. Smaller spouts trickled onto distant roofs, and one thick waterfall had eroded the street into a shallow lake that extended to several city blocks.
“Wish I had a map so I could mark the location of this underground river,” Orion said wistfully.
Apus chirped, “Waterfall locations added to map. Would you like to name this location?”
Orion was impressed by this feature. He felt like a pirate ship cartographer, and had a sudden pang of nostalgia for Seas of Spiritus. He brushed that thought aside, focusing at the task at hand. “Not now,” he said pensively. “Wait, what map?”
A map appeared in Orion’s HUD. There was a fog of war that obscured the world, but their path was lit up. The waterfalls were marked in blue, and a red dot indicated Phoenix far in the distance. Orion tapped the holographic screen and it minimized, showing a localized map of the immediate area with dots representing himself and Slate.
“How long have I had a minimap?” Orion demanded.
Apus remained stoic. “You’ve always had one.”
“I need to finish the damn tutorial,” Orion muttered.
Slate finished scanning the water, “this water is potable.”
Orion walked closer. “Sure, but can we drink it?”
Slate looked up at Orion, “Potable means drinkable.”
“Ah.”
There was an ominous creak. There was a soft plinking noise under them, and a loud groan caused the roof to sink an inch. Orion and Slate shot a worried look to each other. Slate touched a finger to his lips and then used two fingers on each hand to mime two people. He pointed to himself, then finger walked away with one hand. He held up his other hand in a ‘Stay’ motion to Orion. Then he pointed to Orion and walked the remaining hand away. Orion nodded silently, arms held out like a tightrope walker as if to trick the roof into thinking he was lighter.
Slate nodded and turned, starting to creep away. The roof continued to complain under his feet, but he was able to slowly make his way to the ledge. He stood on the carpet of foliage and gave Orion a thumbs up.
Orion nodded and raised his left leg. The moment the tip of his peg touched the ground there was an ear splitting crash, and the roof folded in towards the center. Orion slid down the sudden slope, nearly vanishing into a rusted chunk of missing roof. Only quick thinking stopped him from falling all the way through, muscled arms grabbing the edge of the serrated metal. Lawn chairs, rotting bird coops and even a few bushes started sliding towards the hole.
Slate shouted, “Orion! Stay right there, I’ll think of something.”
Orion tried to wave him off, “No! Get out of here! If I die I’ll just respawn. I can make my own way back!”
Slate shot him a confused look. “Respawn? What are you talking about?”
One of the bushes tipped over, pulling up the roots and vines around it. Orion watched as one of the vines snapped taut around Slate’s ankle and he was pulled off his feet. As the roof furniture collided in the center, the rest of the roof collapsed and both explorers were dumped unceremoniously into the building.
They landed in a heap. Orion was the first to untangle himself and he kicked away some of the debris. It was pitch black in the upper story, only the dual moonlight shining through the small hole provided any light. The Org turned on his implant’s headlamp.
“What is it with me and roofs?” Orion muttered to himself.
He fished Slate out of the pile by his foot. He brushed him off then turned him right-side up and set him down. Slate turned on his own implant flashlight and they looked around the room.
“Are we clear?” Slate asked.
There was a metallic moan and both heads turned to illuminate a single robombie. It was one of the smaller ones, with a faded jumpsuit a bristling mustache made of wires. It was holding a mop and shuffling slowly with one foot stuck in a yellow rolling bucket.
“Well, that’s not too bad.” Orion pulled out Sunflare. “I think we got this.”
The floor sank again as the robombie got closer, and the sudden angle caused it to skate down and smack into Orion. With a groan it started hitting Orion in the head with the mop handle.
Orion looked at the sky forlornly, “I need to stop talking. Like, forever.”
The floor tore apart underneath them, dumping all three of them into the next floor along with the roof junk. Orion kicked the janitor bot away and looked up as six more robombies slowly turned to them.
Slate pulled out his rifle. “We need to get out of here.”
“No, only you do!” Orion hefted Sunflare, “Duck out the window and bridge across to the last stable building. I’ll cover you!”
“I’m not leaving you to fight these things on your own,” Slate argued.
“Listen here, you stubborn-”
The circle of bots closed in on them and the floor creaked and dipped again. Ignoring Slate’s protests, Orion switched Sunflare to one hand and picked Slate up with the other. He spun and started running for the wide window that overlooked the street. With a collective roar, the robots charged them. When the metal mob got to the center, the floor caved in again. The floor beneath Orion turned into a slide and he lost his footing. He landed face first, smashing his chin on the hard floor, and the battle sledge spinning from his hand.
Orion landed hard on top of the tangled mound of thrashing limbs and rolled off. Still holding the struggling Grey, Orion switched to his plasma shotgun and fired four rounds into the disoriented robots, hoping to land at least a few critical hits.
There was a grinding growl behind him and the Org turned slowly. One of the big robombies stood among almost two dozen more. A big chonker of a droid too, taller than the surrounding rabble, with a metal rod clenched in its tusks, bruise-colored smoke billowing from the steel stogie and glowing vents on its chest.
“How many floors did this building have again?” Orion asked.
Slate’s voice had a hard edge to it, “Six.”
Once again the full weight of the crowd converged on Orion. This time the floor didn’t even give any warning before giving way. The water must have leaked down through every story and rusted the floors. The robombies must not have moved this entire time, and the shifting weight finally caused the oxidized metal to give up the ghost.
The robots hit the next floor and kept going. They busted clean through to the bottom floor. Against all odds the floor stopped collapsing just before reaching Orion, the enemy mechs crashed to the ground floor below.
Orion smirked. “That takes care of that.”
“Behind you!” Slate called out.
Orion turned just in time to see the janitor, arms outstretched, trundle towards him in a slow-motion tackle. As the mustachioed robombie collided with his chest, the unexpected weight was just enough to tip Orion backwards into the pit. Orion glared at the custodian. “I hate you.”
Acting fast, Orion shoved the janitor away. He pulled Slate into a bear hug and tucked himself into a ball. He hit the pile of bodies heavily and almost ragdolled, but he managed to keep his body tucked, soaking the bulk of the damage. He managed to roll to his feet, adjusting his grip to princess carry the Commander.
They were in the lobby. The walls in front of the building were all glass, casting light from the few working street lamps into the room. There was a smashed reception desk and chairs could be seen scattered around the press of bodies. The lobby was filled wall to wall with shiny black robots, hundreds of eyes, a bulk of them in the wrong places, stared at them with malevolence. As one they opened their mouths and shrieked, a chorus of grinding, synthetic voices that vibrated the very walls. Immediately the sounds of rhythmic thumping could be heard, soft at first but growing closer with each second. An approaching shadow could be seen in the windows, smaller bots being kicked up as it sprinted toward the building.
A towering figure smashed through the window. It wasn’t one of the humanoid bots, but a true mech. Mostly black with white panels, it had long bird-like legs, a boxy torso with angular white plating in front and no visible head. Instead there was a monitor embedded in the chest with a glitching, staticy Org face with stunner shades and a buzz cut. Its right hand held a big orgite truncheon and the left forearm was just a big Gatling gun. The white shoulder pauldrons had A.C.A.B. written in stark black lettering.
The monitor face glitched as it spoke, “H-Halt! The Automatic C-Cybernetic Authority Brigade is he-here! Sto-sto-stop resisting and be de-destroyed!”
“Nope!” Orion spun and started weaving through the grasping robombies just as the plasma bullets started tearing into them.
Shielding Slate in his arms, Orion burst through the far section of windows like a Hollywood stuntman and kept running. Stray bullets grazed his shoulders, cheek and thigh as he oriented himself. He spotted the bridge leading up to the last building, only three stories tall. He calculated the distance and took a risk.
Orion gripped Slate by the front of his space suit and activated Overclock. As his body started to thicken into the maroon, veiny berserker mode he assumed a pitching stance. “Tuck yourself into a ball and try to roll when you land,” ordered Orion.
Slate gripped the hand holding him, “What are you doing?”
“Fastball Special!” Orion shouted and tossed Slate high in the air.
His aim was true and Slate, screaming and curling himself up, crested the roof. Orion heard him bounce a few times and crash into something. There was a crunch of wood which sent a flock of pigeons with video camera heads flying into the sky. Orion watched one of the fat pigeons land on an electrical wire. Orion flinched as the lens zoomed in on him.
Slate’s head popped over the roof, startling the bird away. “I’m okay! I’ll find something to help you climb up.”
A shattering sound caught his attention and Orion saw the robots pouring out of the building. The surrounding street was also filled with them, and every baleful orange lens was turned to him. The Authority Brigade bot burst out from the glass wall, taking out a support beam. The entire building shook and tilted ever so slightly.
Orion shouted up at Slate, “No! You retreat back to Phoenix!”
Apus appeared on Orion’s shoulder. “Sir, you don’t got this! We should retreat.”
Orion summoned Sunflare. “Apus ol’ pal, we don't need to win. We’re just the distraction.”