100-Meter Class Sea Vessel, Unnamed
Weight: 740,000 kg
Engines: 2 Standard Engines
Engine Power: 20,000 Power
Engine Fuel Drain: 2,000 ( F ) per second
Fuel Drain Adjusted: 4,000 ( W ) per second
Current Speed: 27kph
Resources and Fuel
Resources: 9,121,992 ( W )
Resource Gain: +22,500 ( W ) per second
Fuel: 500,000 / 500,000 ( F )
Power:
Misc: 1,000
Defenses: 200
Hardpoints: 1,500
Excess Power: 17,600
Defensive Armament:
1 T-34/85 Turret 85mm
2 7.62 mm LMG
Ammunition:
85mm: 13
7.62mm: 300
Crew:
105 Unsorted
Hardpoints:
Port: None
Starboard: None
Bow: None
Stern: Mining Industrial
Keel: None
Bridge: Communications Antenna
Emplacement 1: T-45/85 Turret
Emplacement 2: None
I put in a quick work order to rearrange the hardpoints to smarter locations and to add more mining lasers. We desperately needed more resource gain, since the ship was still horribly incomplete. Poorly armed and armored. Paper-thin hull. The rooms were still a mess, garbage everywhere, no facilities except what the rebels put together, and here I was, sailing us through a sea of resources to use.
Water, I mean.
> Mining (Keel 1) activated.
>
> Mining (Keel 2) activated.
>
> Mining (Keel 3) activated.
>
> Resource Gain: +90,000 ( W ) per second
>
> XP Gain: +900 XP per second
> Hardpoints:
>
> Port: None
>
> Starboard: None
>
> Bow: Turret
>
> Stern: Mining
>
> Keel 1: Mining
>
> Keel 2: Mining
>
> Keel 3: Mining
>
> Bridge: Comms
The experience was even shittier out in the ocean, but it was free. Really, all I needed to do was just sail around with the lasers mining the water automatically, and with enough time--years, maybe--I would hit max level. But I didn't have that kind of time. If I wanted to progress faster, I'd need to recycle proper things.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
A cup of coffee was set down on the table in front of me. I looked up. It was the healer from the hero party. She smiled politely, and I nodded back in thanks. She went back to join her friends at another table.
We all sat in a makeshift kitchen area. It was a basic room with rusty metal walls, a few metal tables and chairs, and an old oven that one of the blacksmiths put together. Vil and Lara were over there, fiddling around in the flour like a couple of giddy children. White powder covered them both, and Vil's face was marked by her handprints.
In the corner, Jessie sat in her dirty mechanic's overalls, hair pulled back, squinting at some mechanical device she was working on. It was about the size of an orange with four distinct pieces, all metal. She tried to shove them together as if forcing a puzzle to fit. The pieces stuck together for a moment, then sprung apart. "Fucking bullshit," she whispered to herself. Her voice was groggy, and her eyes were tired.
"Well, Sir Redrim," said the knight. "For us young and noble adventurers, what could we expect to happen next?" He leaned back in his chair with his foot propped up. His prosthetic sat beside him, probably to let his nub breathe. "Perhaps another monster to slay? A mystery to uncover?"
I nursed the steaming hot coffee in my hands. "Don't feel obligated to stay," I said. "We'll probably dock somewhere safe soon, and you can leave then."
The knight lowered his eyes in thought. His smile never left him. "Truly, I know the burden of me, and I still have not yet repaid you for this limb," he nodded at the fake leg beside him.
The healer agreed. "It might be some time before we resume the main quest. Especially after the dragon battle."
The mage snickered. "The temple clergy spoke not of a max leveled beast such as that. Verily, I still say that it was a ruse all along."
The archer stomped on his foot. He winced. "We know not the machinations of the temple," she said. "Dare not to presume."
"Yet still," said the knight. "As it stands. We will see."
Jessie spoke from her side of the room. "Just put them on payroll."
Ugh. Payroll? I didn't even factor that in. Just more shit I needed to peel off from my resource gain. "What, do you want to be mercenaries?"
The knight looked at his friends, and his friends looked back, and together, wordlessly, they considered it. Eventually, the knight grinned wide and brought it to me. "One thousand gold a day for our party's services. How's that for a deal?"
It was not a bad deal. Out of all the people on this ship--excluding Vil or me--they were the most combat-capable and had already saved our asses a few times now.
"I can't recycle gold coins."
Jessie stood up and joined the hero party, draping her body over the mage. "Aw, Redrim. Come on. They're so cute, though." The archer glared at her with a reddening face. Jessie noticed, then swapped over to her, gripping her tight in a bear hug until they both fell over.
"I'll figure something out." I chugged the coffee, set down the cup, and stood up to leave.
"Oh, Redrim," Vil said after he shut the oven door. "We could use a better kitchen area. Recycled food will get... stale quickly."
"And a workshop," said Jessie.
"And if you're taking requests," said the knight. "Some suitable living quarters, as well."
I took several mental notes. "Right, right."
The door snapped open, and by snapped open, I mean the entire thing popped off the hinges. The rebel who had just entered set the door aside. "Ah, Redrim. There you are. The leaders wish to meet with you."
I groaned. "Take me."
I followed the young rebel soldier as we walked down the halls, our footsteps echoing with hollow taps. We passed several familiar faces--old ladies, several bored miners, sleeping rebels, and a handful of restless children. Most had been the same people back at the village--more or less. All had heard of me, and when we walked by, they stared, not in awe, but in curiosity.
An old lady stopped us to complain about the lack of running water. A rebel asked for a place to store their rifles safely. One of the miners didn't like that the walls were so thin and that there was still a small leak in one of the lower decks.
All I could do was say that I'd take care of it, nod, then make another mental note.
We had found a group of older men by the central stairwell. It was a temporary room, wide and empty, containing the only stairs in the ship. It was probably the most well-traversed place since the decks connected at this one spot, and there was no way to get to the top decks other than through here.
A design flaw, I know, but the entire ship was a work in progress.
"So this is Redrim," said an old man with a cane. He was dressed like a simple villager. "It seems he has a face now, for better or worse."
"Alright, what do you want?" I asked. "There's a lot to get done, so--"
A rebel officer spoke. "We've made contact with another rebel cell." He had a trimmed brown beard and wore reader's glasses. He looked more like an accountant than a rebel leader. "These rebels are the group that fled into the desert."
That was Jenna's group.
"Unfortunately," he continued, "the cave complex that they're stationed in has been under siege for weeks now."
"I'll plot a course." I turned to leave.
"No," he said. "We first need to gather our strength and find a friendly port."
"How about go fuck yourself?" I said. "This is my ship. If the desert group is in danger, we should go. We have the fighting strength, and I'll just... hobble something together like I always do."
The officer furrowed his brow. "Redrim. While this is your ship, these people are not your people. We are the leaders of this cell, as we have always been."
This weak little beta-bitch of a man wanted to measure dicks.
"'Scuse me," said a farmer. "Ya'll must be the leaders here. I got's this here mound of COW SHIT, and I'd like to get it moved over to--"
How did this fucking guy get his cowshit here?
The old farts gestured to me. "He's the leader," they mocked.
I parried. "No, you."
"I jes' need t' get all this here COW SHIT moved, and--"
The officer scoffed at me. "Of course, Redrim. You'd only want to be the leader when it benefits you."
I stomped closer. "This is literally what you were doing."
"Yes," he said. "Ironically." He stepped closer to meet me.
I stood in his face. "That doesn't make sense."
"You can't lead," he growled. "You lack the legitimacy. You're just some passerby stopping by for a moment, and while yes, you've helped us a good deal, you still haven't been with us since the beginning." He leaned back and looked down at me from behind his nose. "Tch. You likely don't even care about our mission."
Ten tentacle arms of metal snapped out of my side. I would show him what caring about a mission looked like.
"Come now, come now!" one said. It was Doc Jackelope, coming down the stairs. "No need for violence."
"He insulted my honor," I said. My tentacle arms ached to feel the warmth of his blood and the grit of his bones. "I don't like having my honor insulted."
Doc stopped beside me. He looked at the rebel leader, the village elders, the one officer asshole guy with the beard and glasses, then finally at the cow shit farmer. "Ah, yes! A duel. Perhaps settle your issues together in a duel of honor."
The officer smirked. "The winner becomes the leader of this ship."
I grinned a demon's grin. "Then a duel it is."