“It was in the 23rd century when earth's writhing cybertechnological culture was discovered by an alien spaceship. Upon seeing humanity's path of development, the visitors were horrified.”
***Urban Station, Research Facility 3***
***Antioch***
I slowly made my way through the facility and towards the control room. My only reasonable hope to find answers – as I saw it – was to activate the computer network. Otherwise, I would have to stumble around the complex for days.
That was time which I may not have.
The network of corridors might have been confusing to an outsider, but not to me, and so I arrived after half an hour.
To my dismay, I found the whole room in a state of disrepair. The equipment wasn't destroyed but mostly disassembled. Instead of gleaming surfaces and electronic controls, the round room presents itself in a sorry state of open panels and freely hanging wires, its essential components missing. I know enough about computer systems to tell that the equipment is essentially useless.
Hissing, I curse myself for my own stupidity. Wasted time! Of course, they would take the data cores with them. They even ripped out the station's main-computing core. The large cube-like device in the room's centre is just an empty shell, glass-fibers hanging out of it like spilled guts.
Bemoaning my situation, I check every console, hoping to find one that's still active.
My morale gets a slight boost when I find out that one of the surveillance system's terminals is still operational. I switch it on and access the security system. Most of the features are offline, but the cameras are working. I whoop and start searching the station for signs of inhabitance.
It makes sense for the crew to leave a bare minimum of functionality. At least to check if everything is in order before they switched off the lights and closed the doors.
A few minutes are enough to find out that a ship is docked on the landing field next to the station. It looks like a desolate shuttle, not much more than a round pod with four ion-engines attached to it. Very crude, and certainly very different from the machines which the facility's staff used.
It doesn't matter. The shuttle is at docking-bay eight, which means that I have to travel to another dome. The station's layout is symmetrical with most of it underground. There are eight docking-bays at the surface. Each has its own protective dome with a nice garden. Aside from traffic, they also serve as recreational areas.
I quickly leave the control room, excited about the possibility to leave this dead planetoid. It's only while I am already on my way to the docking bay, that I actually start thinking. I am on a clearly abandoned station, yet, there is a desolate shuttle on the surface, and a dead person in the station's bowels.
That doesn't look like an orderly abandonment of the station. Therefore, many questions come to mind.
How many people fit into a shuttle of that size? Five? Six? Depends on their species and size.
Why are they here? Are they space pirates who hoped to loot the station? Do they belong to the faction which was running the station? If so, they might react badly if I simply walk up to them. They probably want me dead.
I am still musing on the possibilities and am about to leave the underground facility when I hear voices, so I quickly duck behind a corner. Slowly, I crawl forward and look out of the door which leads into the garden.
The central facility is underground, and only a small building is under each protective dome on the planetoid's surface. There are several airlocks placed around the dome, and long metal tubes lead to various docking areas.
Beyond the greenery, now wilted and dried up, there are four Vendevellans at one of the airlocks. I look sadly at the dead plants. They died when the station personnel shut down the life support, which automatically cut them off from getting fresh water. Within just three weeks, my beautiful place of life and peace turned into a monument of death.
The Vendevellans are arguing about something. They are large and lanky humanoids, actually very similar to me. Though, there are distinct differences, like the two ridges of colourful bone on their shoulders. Their grey skin is also very different from my brownish pink... correction... steely silver – which blends very well with the colour of the corridor. Must be the Camouflage skill.
Can I turn this off? I would hate to be stuck with being a chameleon forever.
Shaking my head, I return my attention to more important matters. The discussion of the four visitors.
“... told him not to go too far.”
“It's all your fault! We should have done our job and thrown an asteroid onto this blasted hellhole! Instead, you wanted to loot the place.”
“I told you that jobs like this one are only interesting because of the potential to find something of value left behind. Who would take the time and trouble to accelerate an asteroid for over two weeks, just to make the demise of the station look natural?”
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“It's a joke anyway. Pff! Who would believe that the station is unlucky enough to be hit by an asteroid? There aren't enough of them in this solar system for anyone to believe such an unlikely story.”
“Stop arguing! We have to find Hallas. There is no way that I leave without him.”
I press my lips together, fighting conflicting emotions. These people seem to be some sort of goons who were tasked with wiping out the station in order to hide any evidence. Instead, they went to search the facility for valuables. But why?
A quick dash out of the door brings me into a growth of dried up bushes. The leaves rustle a little, but the Vendevellans take no notice of it. I have no idea what I should do. Maybe I can talk to them? But I killed their friend... though that was kind of an accident.
G.O.D.: New Side Quest: Aquire a means to leave the station! Will you choose the path of the warrior, or the diplomat? Either way, you will at least gain some life experience.
I am really starting to hate G.O.D.
Talking to these mercenaries seems to be a really dumb idea, but I am not a psychopath who would kill them for the shuttle either. The shuttle probably belongs to a real space ship. What if there are even more people on their ship?
The Vendevellans force me to make a decision when they leave their position and walk towards the facility. They walk through the garden, so they are headed in my direction, totally oblivious to my presence. It would be the perfect chance to simply take the shuttle and leave.
Now that I think about it, I don't even know how to fly the stupid thing!
Steeling my resolve, I decide that there is no point in waiting any longer. Raising my arms, I step out of the bushes, rustling the dried up leaves. “Hey-”
The Vendevellans look at me with wide eyes.
“Gods!” “Is that blood!?” “Monster!”
One of them - a female, judging by the wide hips - lets loose a wild shriek, probably startled by my abrupt appearance.
My enhanced senses aren't doing so well with the noise. The high pitch of her scream causes indescribable pain to my eardrums and I join her with a shriek of pain of my own. The other three Vendevellans also start screaming and one of them raises a tool, pointing it at me.
Oh, no. Not again!
I throw myself to the side, just as several shots of superheated plasma bristle past me. The glass dome was reinforced with electromagnetic coils. Normally, these coils would generate an electromagnetic field which would strengthen the dome and repel most charged energy weapons. Though, with the station powered down, the coils also don't have power!
The shots punch three neat holes into the dome and it follows the distinct sound of air being sucked out into the cold vacuum of space. The planetoid doesn't have its own atmosphere. I watch in horror as the cracks in the material widen.
Turning towards them, I forget my good manners. “What the fuck is wrong with you-”
I don't get to curse any further. A huge hole is blasted out of the dome as the material fails and the rushing air throws me and the Vendevellans to the ground. We aren't sucked outside, but the rapid loss of pressure makes my eardrums pop!
Instinctively, my mouth snaps shut and muscles which I wasn't aware of until now close the nostrils of my nose.
I watch in horror as the four Vendevellans writhe in the throes of death, twitching and spasming like fish outside a pond. A few seconds are enough to end it. Vendevellans aren't very good with vacuum. Their species is used to high pressure. Some of their important organs simply explode in low-pressure atmospheres.
G.O.D.: New Achievement gained! First Contact! Always kill first, ask questions later. G.O.D.: New Achievement gained! First Blood! You are a killer! G.O.D.: New Achievement gained! Quadra Kill! Your foes are mice before you! G.O.D.: New Ability unlocked! Instincts: Your previous experiences allow you to react unconsciously and much faster without full understanding of a situation. G.O.D.: Good job! I am starting to like you. Blood and struggle, the battle for life and death, that's what people want to see!
What the fuck is wrong with you!? Four people just died and you... you... You reward me!? Am I some kind of monster who gets rewards for killing others?
I wipe my face and rub my eyes, trying to get rid of all the messages which are impeding my vision. There is no time for this. I am in a vacuum, and while my body is holding out better than expected, I don't want to find my limits.
Getting back to my feet, I quickly walk towards the airlock which leads to the docking port. On my way, I pick up the plasma weapon. I note that my skin didn't just change colour in reaction to the vacuum. It turned darker and got a hard, rubbery texture. Shaking my head, I concentrate on reaching the airlock.
Despite what most people might think, space isn't as deadly as it is made out to be. If the body can survive the pressure difference, you've almost won. Once, I got to watch a stupid movie, one of the few I was allowed to. In it, one of the protagonists froze to death within seconds of being exposed to space.
That was total bullshit.
Vacuum is a perfect isolator. In it, a physical body can only change temperature by absorbing or emitting radiation. There is no direct energy transfer from mass to mass.
So, even if my body was a perfect radiator, it would take longer than a few seconds to freeze completely. As it is, even a perfectly normal organic person would take a few very long minutes to freeze to death.
Be that as it may, my chest starts hurting by the time I reach the airlock. My body is able to withstand the vacuum, but it's like I am holding my breath.
G.O.D.: Get a power-cell upgrade. Feeble, organic bodies are so boring.
Uh, thanks? I guess. I think that was the first time you actually tried to be helpful.
I open the airlock and close it behind me, sucking in a breath of fresh air when the corridor is automatically refilled. Then I stumble towards the shuttle and enter it through another airlock. Luckily, the owners didn't lock it. The controls conform to intergalactic standard, so no problems there.
After catching my breath, I find myself inside a small cockpit with six seats. I despair upon inspecting the overly complicated controls. How am I supposed to fly this thing? Worst case, I actually manage to start the engines and crash directly afterwards.
Side Quest: Aquire a means to leave the station! – Success! Reward: G.O.D. helps you out, but just once. Help will be delivered in the form of knowledge.
I sit there, watching the blinking letters. That's a new one. There are rewards for finishing quests? Since when? Maybe the quest needs to be hard to earn a reward?
Wetting my lips, I want to ask the first thing that comes to mind, but I hold myself back. Asking about G.O.D. might not help me at all. It might get me just an esoterical answer. What if this is my only chance? What if there are no other quests in this place? Will G.O.D. simply lean back and let me die here if I ask the wrong question? What if I ask for something impossible?
I should try to gamble high, but not too high.
There is probably no choice. “I need to know everything about piloting and maintaining spaceships.”
G.O.D.: Uploading everything you asked for at once would fry your mind, and it would be too much of a reward for such a simple quest. But your performance amused me, today I feel generous.
You will get what you want, but are too stupid to ask for. When we are done, you will be a world champion at playing Thrust!
I want to curse and protest. All the good will I may have had for that shitty G.O.D. is gone. When I open my mouth, I scream instead. Someone just stabbed a hot knife into my brain and is stirring it around.