As the expansion progresses, Koll's fleet expands to include a number of battleships. He gathers several dozen corvettes and heavily armed battleships.

These ships can be controlled by AI. But, display greater efficacy under the control of players.

Koll makes up several quests to identify and train command crews for the more complicated middle-tier vessels.

He provides rotations of crew members with a salary of several hundred credits per week and allows them plenty of time to run their quests.

For his flagship, Koll buys a dreadnaught. For this vessel though, Koll employs a full-time crew of NPCs.

By this point, the players have guessed that Koll is planning a major offensive. And, Koll does nothing to dissuade them of this truth.

He starts awarding felsuit armor pieces for quests, rapidly gearing his vast army of players.

Gol D comes to him as the player base prepares itself for whatever Koll is planning.

"So," Gol D says. "You've yet to tell me what we're gonna be doing."

Koll nods, "Have you heard of Tortuga?"

The player looks surprised, "You want to invade the pirate stronghold."

Koll shakes his head, "I want to take the pirate stronghold."

The barbarian is stunned for a moment before a savage light dances in his eyes.

"What do we gain by claiming the fortress?"

Koll measures his words, "There's mineral wealth in the asteroid field. I will bring in workers from Juniper to explore the field. I'll also bring in array masters to build teleportation arrays, connecting the base to the local worlds."

The barbarian warlord thinks for a moment.

"An Immortal stronghold does have a lot of appeal. If you can attract NPC talents, we might as well be an independent state.

"But, what are our chances of success?"

Koll smiles lightly, "100%."

Gol D nods in satisfaction, "I'll take those odds. When do we leave?"

"Soon," Koll says. "I just need to prepare the Immortals. And, commission the mercenary companies."

"We're prepared, Koll. We're just waiting for you to make a move."

Koll nods and shares a quest he'd made up.

[Quest Name: Call to Arms: Tortuga]

[Description: Koll Luna has seen the cancer of piracy in the galaxy and can bear it no more. Join Koll Luna's campaign against the pirate stronghold, Tortuga.]

[Rewards: 1 XP, +1 Reputation with Koll Luna]

Gol D reads the quest and is unperturbed by the lack of rewards. He knows from experience that the rewards will follow.

The player accepts the quest and moves off to prepare his Metal Mercenaries for the coming campaign.

Soon, the quest spreads to hundreds of thousands of eager players.

Most will be boarding the thousand-odd Striker transports. Others, with the right training, will populate his battleships and corvettes.

Over the following week, the preparations are made and the armada leaves Juniper Station.

It is hardly the largest fleet in the galaxy. And, the vessels are low-tier. But, the undying players make the armada unparalleled in the local group.

Traveling beyond the Juniper network takes some time. But, no more than traveling to Ruun had.

The players busy themselves with the mobile colosseum of Gol D's rented freighter.

Tournaments are held aboard the vessel to decide who's the strongest combatant in the Ruun faction. And, by default, of all the players of Cosmos.

Surprisingly, Shadowmaster rises to acclaim once more. The silent player had kept a low profile since his gladiatorial debut in the Everlast Arena on Ruun. But, with explosive power, he wins the impromptu tournament again. His spellsuit armor, 1 handed sword style, and wrist launcher off-hand take the competition down with ruthless efficiency.

Koll merely observes the competition from afar. His mind on the campaign.

The Tortuga system is an asteroid field. Of course, in space, an asteroid field's asteroids are distanced by many miles. And, the fleet manages to obliterate any stray asteroids.

Koll's dreadnaught, crewed by experienced NPCs, manages the minor threats. While his battleships and Strikers stay on alert.

The first pirate ship they encounter is oddly oblivious to the encroaching threat.

Koll sends several strikers to invade and commandeer the vessel. There is no need for prisoners.

This experience repeats a few times until a ship escapes.

From then on, they fight a few minor battles. The pirates heavily overestimating their chances.

"Commander," a crewmember speaks to Koll. "We have detected the stronghold."

Koll nods as they draw close to the network of asteroids that join together to form Tortuga.

A thousand ships array themselves within a net of overlapping turrets.

"I want all battleships to target the turrets. Strikers, choose your targets and report them to the command. The flagship will advance to take the brunt of the attack. Proceed."

Everything moves slowly for some time as the pieces move into position.

With the heavily armored dreadnaught leading the charge, the pirate forces pick it as the primary target. The stronghold's turrets also join in attacking his flagship. This allows his agile Strikers to fly unassailed, for the most part.

The dominoes start falling into place by the second hour of the engagement.

The thousand-odd strikers ram into the gathered pirate vessels and discharge hundreds of immortal players to massacre their crews. The turrets of Tortuga are systematically eliminated. And, Koll's flagship, while suffering significant damage, endures the majority of the enemies' attacks.

A number of pirate ships flee the space dock where the noncombatant vessels are stored. Koll doesn't give chase.

The conquest only takes a few hours. And, the extermination of the landlocked pirates is remorseless.

A few thousand Ruun players are discovered in the slave pens. The players are excited to be reunited with their kin.

Koll docks his damaged dreadnaught and sends the several thousand NPCs in his employ to take command control over the Tortuga compound.

The thousand commandeered pirate ships are docked and left to be evaluated for repurposing.

His Strikers are dislodged and set to patrol the asteroid field while his battleships take up defensive positions.

Koll isn't expecting any trouble will come his way. Pirates aren't soldiers. They won't fight a fruitless war for a lost outpost. And, there aren't any other pirate bases in the local group.

Koll goes down into the compound and finds it to be a messy place. The pirates used slave labor to maintain many functions of the fortress' living systems. But, it's all crap and will need to be overhauled.

The staff he brought can do a lot. But, he'll need many more NPCs to populate his new space station.

Dancing Dagger appears from a hallway.

"Greetings, Commander," the attractive man says in mock greeting.

Koll rolls his eyes, "And, salutations to you."

The blonde man looks around, "It's a mess. But, I'm sure you'll manage."

"I will," Koll says. "But, I need more staff members to manage the systems here."

"I'm guessing you're not referring to Immortals."

"No," Koll confirms. "I need technical staff. I was wondering if your mercenary company could do some ferrying work over the next few months."

Dancing Dagger nods, "For the right price, we can do anything."

"Good, I'll contact your commander with the details."

Dancing Dagger lingers, "Will this be a permanent base?"

Koll nods, "When the teleportation arrays are completed, we'll be open for business. Of course, the Immortals are free to go wherever they please."

Dancing Dagger cocks his head to the side, "You're still expecting us to jump ship and follow another NPC?"

Koll shakes his head, "No. But, Immortals are ephemeral creatures. Don't pretend you're not."

"I suppose."

With that, Dancing Dagger departs.

Shortly thereafter, Gol D finds him.

"Kind of a boring campaign," the warlord confesses.

"They were pirates. Not veteran soldiers. I doubt it would have been so smooth if not for the undying immortals fearlessly charging into their vessels."

Gol D scratches his chin, "You give us too much credit. You prepared a powerful composition."

Koll nods, "It worked on the unprofessional pirates. But, other threats wouldn't have much difficulty shrugging off our forces."

Gol D smiles, "That just means we need to gather more powerful ships."

Koll says nothing as he walks off to finish his checks of the facility.

The work on the captured stronghold begins in earnest as soon as the NPCs land. Most significantly, the task of cleaning the filthy facility.

News of the destruction of the pirates spreads quickly. As does the fact that Tortuga is being repurposed for civilian functions. Automatically, this improves the security in the local group to a tremendous degree.

Even as far as Juniper station, the pirates had called Tortuga home. Now, they have no home to resupply and sell their ill-gotten gains.

The first ships to visit are enforcers from a tier 3 civilization. Their questions are mostly related to Koll's purposes in commandeering the pirate compound.

"I simply wish to convert this compound into a civilian space station."

The enforcer nods his understanding. "This location is underdeveloped. And, has long been plagued by piracy. You'll have to maintain a strong military presence. But, you're close to the trade lanes. Which is why pirates have historically stayed here.

"I'll report to my people about your conquest. It'll be good for the sector to have a friendly port out here."

The enforcers leaves satisfied. There was no talk of taxation because no one technically owned this patch of space.

So long as Koll maintains the peace, he can operate like a local warlord if he wants. And, the resources in the asteroid field will give him something to trade or use as he sees fit.

The weeks pass and the first NPCs have come from Juniper Station for the promise of jobs.

There are technicians, custodial workers, cooks, miners, engineers, and many other professionals.

Juniper has many opportunities. But, it also has a lot of competition. The new station brings fresh opportunities.

"Tortuga's not a good name for our new station," Koll says as he talks with Wu Lan.

"You're right," she agrees. "What do you want to name it?"

"Astera Station."

She thinks for a moment, "That sounds good."

Koll thinks about the future silently.

"Last time, I asked you what was next. And, you said Tortuga. Well, here we are. Do you have any plans beyond this or have you finally reached your limit?"

Koll shrugs, "I'll be here for the foreseeable future. There's a lot to be done."

She nods her understanding, "Well, don't forget us little people. We can't all be Gol D with grand plans to rope you into."

Koll understands her sentiment. He'd grown from being something like a peer to many of them into a faction leader. It is difficult to remain the same person. And, honestly, he has no interest in remaining stagnant.

"You remember that movie about the bartender?" he asks.

"Of course I do."

"Do you still think I'm a bartender?"

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

She hesitates for a moment, "No. Now you own the bar."

He chuckles, "I guess I do."

"Also," she says. "You should build a bar here."

Koll looks at her curiously, "There are already bars here."

"Yeah," she admits. "But, those are pirate bars. You should get rid of them and build your own. You could name it Wu Lan's."

"Uh-huh."

"What? I think it's a wonderful name."

Koll shrugs, "I'll think about clearing out the pirate bars and building a new one. But, don't count on that name."

She sticks out her tongue, "You're no fun."

She leaves and Koll thinks about the future.

Astera Station officially gets its teleportation array connecting it to the many interstellar-grade worlds within range. This allows the players to quest on the worlds and gather credits for Koll's store.

With the fabricators, Koll doesn't have to spend so much of his time producing armor for the players and can spend his time in other pursuits. Mainly, the administrative responsibilities for building a functional space station.

But, with the addition of new personnel in the daily arrivals, Koll is able to delegate many tasks.

Koll begins to work on his artificer class. Not as a means of producing the same equipment for his players. But, as a means of mastering his class.

Jake has broken through mastery of enchanting and begins to tinker with his new artificer class. But, Koll has long stagnated.

It isn't that his means for acquiring advanced resources hasn't grown. It's just that Koll had too much to do.

Settling many matters, Koll hires an experienced administrator to oversee matters for the Astera Station.

Then Koll locks himself away in a fully equipped engineering room on the station.

He has a nigh unlimited number of high-tier interstellar resources. And, his facility provides him with every utility he can imagine needing.

He'd spent so long crafting armor that he'd grown bored of it. Instead, he turns his focus to crafting weapons suited to players armored with his spellsuits.

Blasters powered by dilithium crystals. Swords, axes, and hammers made from obsidium and radiant steel.

He even constructs conventional kinetic firearms, powered by powdered nether crystal.

Koll tinkers endlessly and puts the high-end interstellar-grade weapons on his automated store's list.

The players arm themselves with the new weapons. But, Koll doesn't care about the money anymore. He just wants to build his proficiency.

The expansion grows long in its days. The players quest on planets or run bodyguard roles in Strikers, the pirates a lower threat. But, not nonexistent.

The forums teem with flamewars. The starter worlds progressively emptying of their player population. Most worlds have their players taken as slaves only to revolt against their slave masters.

Ruun players celebrate their liberty and conquest of a space station.

Koll doesn't pay it any attention. His artificer class finally has reached the threshold for advancement.

He just needs the right class change manual.

As Koll had told Mary Susan, he intends to advance to the slightly controversial class of bioengineer.

Most of the stigma comes from real-world concerns over genetic engineering. But, in Cosmos, advanced civilizations commonly modify the genetic code of their citizens.

Coordinator civilizations are often the most advanced and harmonious civilizations in the galaxy.

The bioengineer class will allow him to create gene therapies with either temporary or permanent effects on an organism's physiology.

Of course, the class gets a bad name for the monstrous aberrations they can make. Players had a number of monstrosities that they liked to create out of other players.

It is indeed a mad scientist class that can aspire to perfection or absolute distortion.

The class change manual he needs can't be bought from the Juniper station menu. Instead, he needs to gain a reputation with the type 3 civilization the enforcers had come from.

To that end, he will employ the players under his influence.

Koll accesses his galaxy grade omnitool and pulls up the information on the Unity Triumvarate, the tier 3 civilization. For the class change, he knows the faction he seeks.

"Reception for the third army. How may I direct your call?"

On the screen of his omnitool, a human answers his call.

"I seek a conference with the mercenary administration."

The man on the other end nods, "I'll connect you."

The line carries a melodious tune for some time before it connects.

"Mercenary administration," the middle-aged man says. "Please designate your affiliated faction."

"The Astera Mercenary Division. This will be our first time working with the Triumvirate."

The man nods and goes about filling out the paperwork, occasionally asking for details.

"We have several hundred thousand mercenaries to contribute to the third army's campaign."

Even this number doesn't impress the administrator.

"Are you familiar with the current engagements of the third army?"

Koll nods, "Yes."

"Please designate a contested world or worlds your division is prepared to engage in."

"The Yualjin and Belfor worlds."

The man nods, "You'll be responsible for transporting your forces to these worlds. Army command will distribute missions on an as-needed basis. Your expected arrival date is 3 galactic standard weeks. Failure to report will result in a termination of all future contracts."

The administrator spares no more time and closes the comm line.

Koll nods to himself and sends out a system alert to the players.

[Quest Name: Yualjin and Belfor Mercenary Work]

[Description: The Astera Mercenary Division has work for you. Report for duty and prepare for departure.]

[Rewards: 1,000,000 XP, +1,000 Reputation with Koll Luna, 1,000 credits]

The players arrive on the ships by the hundreds of thousands.

By the end of the day, the ships are ready for departure while other ships remain to guard the space station.

Koll opens the comms to the armada.

"Immortals of the Astera Mercenary Division, I want to thank you for answering the call to arms. We will be departing shortly in transit to the Unity Triumvirate. Two planets are our destination. Yualjin and Belfor.

"We will be reporting to the contested worlds for service to the Triumvarate's third army. We will be engaging xenos aliens. Our opponents will be tremendously intelligent and dangerous. Your lives will be at great risk. But, I have faith in you.

"Bring honor to the Astera Mercenary Division, bring honor to me, and bring honor to yourselves. We depart now."

With that, more than a thousand ships depart from Astera Station and head to the solar system that Yualjin and Belfor call home.

The players excitedly wait for the ships to make their transit.

3 weeks later, the ships arrive in the system.

"Sir," the comms officer says. "We are receiving a communication from third army command."

Koll nods, "Put it through."

A screen shows a haggard man past middle age.

"You're our reinforcements then?"

"Yes," Koll says plainly.

"I've never heard of your Astera group."

"This will be our first engagement."

"Great," the old soldier says without enthusiasm. "Send a third of your forces to Yualjin and the rest to Belfor. We'll have additional orders for you on arrival."

With that, the NPC closes communication.

Koll pulls up a comm line.

Gol D appears on the line.

"What's the plan, Koll?"

"I want you to take the ships I've outlined and report for duty on planet Yualjin."

Gol D nods, "I'll bring 'em back in 1 piece. The ships of course. The players will be on their own."

Koll scowls, "I'm trusting you with this command. Don't waste my troops. I don't care that they're immortal."

"Yeah yeah," Gol D cuts the comm.

Koll has confidence in the warlord. He's been running mercenary work since he got to Juniper station.

Koll puts him out of his mind and takes the rest of the troops to Belfor.

"Deploy your division on the Yellow Plain," comes his directive.

The ships enter the atmosphere and land near an army base built on the plain.

Koll disembarks with 400 thousand players and leads them to the base.

A convoy of military vehicles rides out to meet him.

"Koll Luna?" the leading soldier asks.

"Yes."

"We have quarters set up for your soldiers, we'll expect them to be ready for sortie tomorrow morning."

Koll nods and watches the convoy return to the base. The players and he have to walk.

Upon reaching the base, the players are guided to their accommodations. But, they have no interest in beds.

As if by second nature, the players move through the base in search of quests.

Koll finds himself escorted to army command.

The looks he receives aren't friendly. But, then, his reputation with the soldiers is at its baseline neutral.

"Luna," a gruff voice sounds out as soon as Koll enters the command center.

"Yes?"

"I've never heard of you before," the old soldier says. "That tells me not to expect much from you or your men. The most I expect is for them to fight and die like soldiers. Can they do that?"

Koll nods, "They can do that."

"Good. You'll be paid compensation for your deaths. And, I'm expecting a lot of dead. The xenos are particularly nasty bugs.

"They don't have a command structure. But, are individually a match for 10 of our soldiers. They're vicious and cruelly intelligent. If you can keep your soldiers from fleeing tomorrow, I'll count you as a success.

"Until tomorrow, get some rest."

Koll nods and leaves.

The xenos are a threat a tier or two above what the players are used to. They will undoubtedly die in large numbers tomorrow. But, Koll does not doubt that they will fight fearlessly.

Koll finds his way to the sleeping quarters, which his soldiers have no use for. But, the space serves as his storefront.

Many players still don't have the felsuits, spellsuits, or his new high-tier weapons. And, the demand will grow from tomorrow on. Plus he will have to repair his troops' armor.

While operating his store, Koll idles away his time until he needs sleep.

The battle for Belfor begins in earnest the following day. The players are transported by caravan to a nest the size of a city.

Despite the tenseness of the third army's soldiers, the Astera mercenaries are giddy with excitement. It somehow unnerves the career soldiers.

Koll rides with, his spellsuit armor shining oppulently compared to the low-grade armor of the soldiers. Many of his players stand out for their high-quality power armor sets.

The forces draw near the nest and begin to encroach on the nest.

"Artillery and orbital bombardment do nothing to penetrate the hives," a soldier explains. "That's why infantry has to go in to clear them out."

Koll nods his understanding.

The xenos see the coming caravan and rush out from their nest en masse.

The players disembark and charge like a mob.

The soldier at his side watches with slack-jawed amazement. How dumb can these mercenaries be?

"Mr. Luna... your soldiers lack discipline. And, training."

Koll looks on unmoved, "They lack discipline. But, they've been training for some time."

As the battle continues, the players are repeatedly shredded by the superior xenos. But, their respawn rate is high and they return faster than their advance line can crumble.

Instead, it's the xenos that can't keep up.

More of the insectoids rush to cut down the players. But, it's not enough.

Eventually, the tide turns and the players begin charging into the labyrinthine hive.

The career soldier beside Koll watches it all with confusion.

"They're dying... But, their numbers don't go down. I don't understand."

Koll smiles ruefully, "Don't worry about it. It's a specialty of my mercenaries."

The players spread like a plague through the nest. Wherever they meet resistance, they throw more bodies at the enemy.

Soon the xenos larvae are slaughtered in their cribs. The workers are crushed. And, even the xenos queen becomes XP for the mad players.

Millions of xenos throughout the hive are slaughtered by a few hundred thousand players in a day.

When the players are collected and driven back to the base, the NPCs have slightly broken looks on their faces.

"Luna," the old soldier in charge looks at Koll with a complicated gaze. "Your soldiers are Immortals?"

Koll nods.

"I've heard the legends. But, to think they were true. I underestimated you, Luna."

Koll observes his reputation points with the general and the rest of the soldiers rise.

"Rest your men, there are more hives for your Immortals to clear."

Koll leaves and puts up his shop for the players to get their repairs. Fortunately, the process is largely automated and he's able to repair their gear as fast as they damage them.

The mood among the players is elevated. They find the challenge of the powerful bugs satisfying. Their deaths don't get them down even a bit. And, many of them find quests from the NPCs. All around, things are quite positive.

Koll calls up Gol D.

"How's the mission on your end."

The barbarian smiles confidently, "Good. These bugs squish just right. The army has repair troops. But, they're not as efficient as your work. Still, we should be at 100% tomorrow."

"Good," Koll says. "Just keep at it for as long as the army has missions for you."

"Will do. Good luck."

The comm goes silent and Koll is left to his work.

The campaign lasts for just under a month. Their base moves on several occasions to draw near other hives.

Each ravaged nest scores Koll a slew of reputation points with the soldiers, the third army, and the Unity Triumvirate.

When the month is finished, he's already jumped from neutral to friendly to revered with the Triumvirate.

Such a climb shouldn't be possible even for a mercenary troop assisting in the campaign. But, the ruthless efficiency of the Immortals clears dozens of seemingly unconquerable nests.

The legend of the Astera Mercenary Division spreads wide throughout the Triumvirate and, as the leader of the Immortals, he only gains acclaim.

Before boarding his ship to leave, Koll uses his omnitool on the Triumvarate's network to purchase a rare bioengineer class change manual. Something he needed a revered reputation to purchase.

With a smile on his face, Koll leads his fleet back to Astera Station.

"Koll, you need to think about delegating the administrative operations of the Astera Mercenary Division to someone else."

Koll stares at the man blankly, "You."

"Yes, goddammit," Gol D curses. "Admit it, Koll, you're not a military commander. You're more of a mascot."

"You're winning your argument, aren't you?"

"You know what I mean," Gol D says in frustration. "You're a faction leader, like a president. The president is the commander in chief. But, he doesn't command soldiers on the battlefield. You need a military commander under your command. And, you know I'm the one for the job."

Koll sighs. He does know it. He just hated to admit it to the man.

"Fine," Koll concedes. "You are now the military commander of the Astera Mercenary Division. Happy?"

Gol D smiles contentedly, "Yes, I am."

"Good. Now leave me alone."

The player swaggers off. Leaving Koll tired.

Fortunately, he doesn't want to be a military commander. He'd just wanted to quickly gain a reputation with a tier 3 civilization.

In his absence, Astera Station has grown in personnel and fabricated sections. The NPC staff are incorporating more asteroids into the network. With mining crews excavating, both for habitation dens and for the mineral wealth the field provides.

The space dock is growing to meet the demand for access.

Koll reviews the information nominally.

Everything is progressing well and Koll is growing less involved in the process. Just like Gol D had so inelegantly said, Koll was the mascot for the players to rally around. He gives them direction. But, he isn't their leader.

And, Koll never felt like their leader to begin with. They just used each other to achieve their own ends.

While Koll is caught up in such thoughts, Winter Storm finds him.

"Oh, Koll," the player greets him warmly. "How was the war?"

Koll nods, "It went well. The xenos bugs were powerful. But, nowhere near as tenacious as the Immortals."

Winter smiles, "I'm glad."

The player lingers.

"What's up?" Koll asks.

"I...uh. I," he hesitates. "I know you're always getting asked for sponsorship. Uh, everyone knows your relationship with Gol D can be... well, complicated. But, I have a business venture I was hoping I could... get your support with."

The man is awkward in asking for money. But, Koll doesn't mind.

"What do you want to do?"

Winter Storm breathes deeply, "I want to start a trading company."

Koll cocks his head to the side, "What do you want to trade?"

Winter Storm swallows. "Resources that Astera Station needs. Fabrication resources. Mining equipment. Food and medicine. Quite a few things."

Koll nods, "So what you need is capital and ships."

Winter scratches the back of his head, "Yes."

"What's my take? What do I get out of this?"

Winter Storm swallows, "51% stake in the company. You'll have a controlling share. And, the primary purpose of the business will be in growing Astera's power across the sector."

"Hmm," Koll hums. "Okay. Put together a business model, list resources and how much capital you'll need. I'll get you some cargo and escort ships."

Winter Storm smiles brightly and repeatedly nods his head, "I will."

Koll watches him leave. It will be good to have his hand in commerce in addition to mercenary work.

He moves off to a secluded room and continues to study the class change manual he'd acquired from the Unity Triumvirate.

Bioengineering is a qualitative leap in difficulty compared to tinkering with machines as an artificer.

Fortunately, in the game, he doesn't need formal education to learn a science as complex as gene editing.

Still, he needs to research the manual before he uses it. And, that is taking some amount of effort.

The hours tick by while he diligently studies.

The final days of the first expansion are drawing to a close.

Players are running around completing quest chains and gathering as many resources as they can before new challenges arise.

Gol D is commanding the mercenaries of Astera in a wide array of causes. The Unity Triumvirate becomes a regular customer of the players. The profits flowing into Koll's coffers are substantial and he doesn't have to do anything but sign off on whatever Gol D wants.

Winter Storm's Astera Consortium still has a long way to go. But, the trade fleet is growing both in size and volume of goods transported.

Koll doesn't mind sponsoring the burgeoning business. It will serve him well when it is in full swing.

Dancing Dagger pops by from time to time. The player seems almost bored.

He'd participated in the Yualjin campaign with Gol D.

But, lately, it seems like he is tired of playing mercenary.

"What's wrong?" Koll asks.

"Hmm?" the player doesn't register.

"Dancing Dagger," Koll says. "You're acting oddly. Like you're tired of all this."

"Maybe," the man says despondently.

Koll looks at him for a moment, "Maybe you need to take a break from being an Immortal."

Dancing Dagger smiles softly, "You do know that when we don't log in as Immortals, we are still out there somewhere."

It wasn't a question. Just a statement.

"So, it's not being an Immortal that's weighing on you. But, something else."

"I envy you, Koll. Everything you do matters. But, me. I just follow the pack. It's always like that. Whether I'm here or there."

Koll thinks of the real world. There's a reason he doesn't mind living in the game. The real world could suck.

"What do you do in your world?"

Dancing Dagger seems taken aback by the question.

"Nothing special," he says after a moment. "I just work a minimum wage job and play the game. It's just getting tiresome."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Dancing Dagger looks at him appreciatively.

"Not really. I'm just worn out and not getting what I used to out of this."

Koll knows the feeling. Probably every gamer knows that kind of fatigue.

"Do you know what the next arc of our journey is gonna be?" Koll asks.

Dancing Dagger shakes his head.

"The elemental war."

The blonde man looks confused.

Koll continues, "The fire elementals of the stars. The air elementals of the gas giants. The water elementals of water planets. And, sentient forests will all wage war on each other.

"These elemental forces are ancient in ways we can't comprehend. The galaxy-grade civilizations are children playing in sand compared to the elementals. The stars themselves will be snuffed out. And, the populated worlds will drown in darkness."

Koll looks at the player meaningfully, "Do you want to be a part of that story?"

Dancing Dagger's eyes have a flame that had all but extinguished reignite.

"It does sound pretty epic."

"Well," Koll says. "I'll be there for it. You can tag along if you like."

"Hah. I've no doubt you'll be there for it."

The attractive man seems to have regained his life. "Okay. I'll follow your lead once more, Koll."

They share the moment before Dancing Dagger departs.

Koll stands there for a moment thinking about the next expansion.

The pirates of the second expansion were never a threat to him. But, the third expansion will see the power structure of the galaxy turn up on its head.