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  “You, with the helmet, let’s see some skin,” the leader of the squad ordered Gwen, angling his blaster rifle in her direction and making a show of priming the weapon’s ignition coil with a high-pitched whine that faded away as it stabilized.

  Gwen nodded, slowly reaching up to her head to remove the helmet. Her gloved fingers rested on either side of the metallic dome and she waited, apparently trying to eat as much time as possible before complying. I felt the tension rise in my chest, giving it my best effort to keep fear out of my expression. These soldiers didn’t need to know how nervous I felt, and I didn’t need to give them any reason to worry about my intentions, however grim they were.

  “Let’s go, already!” the man shouted, readjusting his blaster and over-exaggerating the movement to emphasize his point. The other soldiers did the same, filling the space between our two groups with uncomfortable tension. If we stalled for too much longer, they were going to start shooting. Gwen was taking her sweet time, and it wasn’t doing anything to comfort my anxiety for the coming fight.

  Instead of removing the helmet, Gwen dropped to her stomach as something whined behind her in the docking bay. It sounded like a large coil sucking in a powerful electric charge with a high-pitched ring. Gwen yelled something to me and Brandon, but her words were drowned out by a loud chain of percussive blasts, silencing all else in their overpowering presence.

  Thuuum! Thuuum! Thuuum! Thuuum!

  Time seemed to slow as adrenaline spiked through my veins. Thudding roars of blaster cannon fire exploded out and heavy plasma bolts tore through the air, surging toward the observation deck from Ether Rogue’s top quad turret. The blaster bolts energized the air with crackling electricity, flooding it with the scent of sweet burning ozone. The two soldiers that had been on overwatch duty on the observation deck were instantly atomized, and large chunks of the platform behind them exploded into fragments of twisted metal as Ether Rogue’s blaster fire decimated everything it touched.

  Fire alarms blared, red lights flashed, and the overhead fire suppression systems over the observation deck groaned to life, spraying expanding blue foam on the spreading fires that had broken out on the deck and its surrounding area. I could feel the air start to thin as oxygen was consumed by the flames and artificially removed to douse the flames—giving us an opportunity to make it out alive. Had the station’s systems been older or cheaper, it might have just sealed us in and sucked the entire docking bay into vacuum to prevent catastrophic station failure from an uncontrollable fire.

  So much for talking our way out of this. Maybe it was better this way. With Fen on the quad turret, we might be able to stall this out until it was time for Cadan to swoop in and create enough hell to break a hole through the blockade.

  The four soldiers in front of us were dazed during the sudden outburst, but they were recovering and shooting at us now. I hit Gwen with a rank 5 Mana Shield, giving her strong protection while she tore off the EVA helmet and scrambled for cover. With her 35 base HP, my shield would give her an extra 49 HP to work with before she started to lose actual health. She slid on her side, pulling herself behind one of the landing tripods underneath Ether Rogue.

  The second Gwen was relatively safe from blaster fire, I stopped channeling Mana Shield. While the remaining enemy soldiers regained their composure, I made my move to seek cover behind a control console lining the maintenance deck of the bay several meters away from Ether Rogue, sprinting in an all-out effort.

  “This is Corporal Jonah Hansen, squad under fire at Docking Bay B10, requesting immediate backup with heavy ordnance. Visual identification of Gwen Delarine confirmed!” the leader yelled over the cacophony filling the space, switching targets and sending blaster fire lancing toward Brandon. The corporal had looked surprised when his blaster fire dissipated off Gwen harmlessly before she made it to cover. Her shield wouldn't have held forever, but it was enough to get her to safety without taking damage.

  I grimaced as the corporal completed his transmission to his supervisors, drawing my blaster pistol, lining up the shot, and firing three times in quick succession while I was still running. One of the blaster bolts hit Corporal Hansen in the chest, sending armor shrapnel exploding from the burning point of impact. My second shot went wide and missed, but the third chewed through his exposed neck just to the side of his shoulder armor, dropping his health bar to flashing red as he went down hard, dead or dying.

  But the kill had been too late, and the damage was done. Now our window for escape had all but vanished because we hadn't dealt with this problem silently.

  Brandon and I were too close to the remaining enemy soldiers for Fen to fire the ship’s top or bottom quad turrets without the risk of vaporizing us in the process. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be able to deal with any new squads that might make their way to our docking bay from the top observation deck or bottom maintenance tunnels connecting adjacent bays. They would be coming, and they would bring the big guns. For now, manning the ship’s turrets was the best thing Fen could do to support us, even though I had yet to see her in combat.

  Our biggest concern now was the possibility of the Dalthaxian blockade preparing for our escape. Our plan of departure was crazy enough as it was, but it seemed to hinge on a crucial element that no longer existed. We had been banking on the fact that Dalthaxia wouldn’t expect anyone else to attempt to flee the station with the floating debris field of failed attempts marooned in the dead space between Vrenn and Anchorhead. If Dalthaxia knew which docking bay we were in, then they could and would have ships ready to take initiative and attack the second we left the hangar.

  A barrage of blaster bolts hit me in the chest and tore me out of my thoughts as I was running to cover, sending searing pain lancing through my body as I was knocked back, nearly falling over from what felt like getting hit by a speeding freight lifter. Blood welled from the crumpled holes in my sundered armor, staining sections of the docking bay floor a dark crimson. Pain threatened to overwhelm my senses, but I fought through it, knowing that if I stopped moving I was dead.

  You have been hit by (Player - Dalthaxian) Don Erril’s blaster rifle. You take 10 damage. Your Medium EVA Suit loses one point of durability. 99/100 total durability remaining.

  The AIVO message flashed three times in quick succession, alerting me that the durability of my armor had dropped by seven points and that I was in immediate risk of death. I dismissed the combat messages, freeing visual space so I could take in as much of my surroundings as possible. I activated Mana Shield on myself at max rank, knowing that I couldn’t take another hit like that. My health bar had dropped by 20 points, leaving me with only 10 remaining. As I forced my legs to carry me forward, a debuff flashed.

  Bleeding I

  You are bleeding from extreme bodily injury.

  You are suffering 1 HP of physical damage every 5 seconds.

  -10% base movement speed.

  -10% health and resource regeneration.

  10% chance for this debuff to transition to Bleeding II when performing physically demanding actions for the duration of this debuff.

  Healing can remove all instances of Bleeding.

  Duration: Lasts until healed.

  Glad you fixed up my suit, Mac. I’d be dead otherwise, I thought, making a mental note to thank the usara gun merchant if I ever saw him again. I dove behind the damaged computer console on the maintenance platform, sucking in a deep, pained breath and bleeding all over the computer as more blaster bolts tore through the air above me and slammed into the back panel of my temporary cover. The screen flickered for a second then cut to black, but the blaster bolts weren’t punching all the way through yet.

  Remembering my suit’s healing potential through the consumables I had loaded in it, I healed myself with an injectable healing cartridge, bringing me back up to 20 health with an additional heal over time that would top me off as long as I avoided more damage. The cartridge removed the Bleeding debuff as it healed me with a cold, numbi
ng sensation that tore the pain away in a moment of sweet relief.

  I dropped my Mana Shield, saving my 15 remaining mana after seeing I had already spent 30 channeling two instances of the spell for a combined total of 10 seconds. My mana would replenish over time—faster now that I had leveled up and improved my Mind attribute, but I would be limited in the spells I could cast unless I used my only resource injectable pack, and I wasn’t planning on using it unless I absolutely had to. I didn't know or remember if there were more in the supplies we’d purchased for our deep-space expedition.

  Back at full health, my bravery surged again and I peeked over the edge of the computer console, stealing a glance and seeing Brandon lean from his cover behind the landing gear of Ether Rogue. He blasted his shotgun, obliterating the health bar of one of the Dalthaxian soldiers in a gruesome display of raw violence. The last two soldiers were firing from a position of cover—one of them had set up a deployable energy barricade, but they hadn’t expected Fen to deploy the bottom quad turret on Ether Rogue once Brandon and I were safely out of its line of fire.

  The turret made quick work of the deployable shield, punching through the glass-like surface with ease and splattering the two remaining Dalthaxian soldiers on the back wall of the docking bay. With that, all six were dead and we would hopefully have a moment to breathe before Dalthaxia took its next move. Taking a deep breath, I walked out from cover, still clutching my blaster in a slightly shaking hand.

  Gwen emerged from beneath Ether Rogue, rushing out and tossing me my EVA suit helmet as she quickly looted what was left of the player corpses, taking weapons, broken armor, and a couple functional tech pieces and gadgets. At the very least, it was scrap for working on crafting professions. “Let’s get on Ether Rogue and be ready to leave, Dalthaxia’s going to know we’re here now. When’s our escort crew showing up?”

  I checked the timer, grimacing. “Twelve minutes. I’m going to see if Cadan can push that up because there’s no way we don’t run into more complications if he doesn’t.”

  24

  “Making the jump to Vrenn. Leave your bay the second your timer goes off and fly like hell. Good luck,” Cadan said through the chat lobby, disconnecting as he left the realm of subspace.

  There was movement through the translucent blue tint of the energy shield separating us from the nothingness of space—Dalthaxian ships were repositioning themselves in front of our side of the station, spreading out and forming a wall while small fighters swept by the entrance, not attempting to breach the docking bay's energy shield with their on-board weapon systems.

  “They might not risk anything more than light fire from fighters to try to disable us once we’re out of the bay,” Gwen said, pulling off her bulky coat to reveal her Dalthaxian light-armor. “I don't think they know if the map fragment can be destroyed or not.”

  I was frustrated, and the deck of probable outcomes seemed stacked against us—getting worse by the second. “And if it can be destroyed? Do you want me to try to read it now so we have the data in case we die? I’m not going to try to screw you over, Gwen. We have a deal, and this might be best in case Dalthaxia dusts us all.”

  She gave me a conflicted look, her eyes shifting from side to side as she studied me before she gained control and resolution. “No. We’re not there yet, but I appreciate you saving me in that fight. Without your shield, I would have been in some serious trouble, so thank you.”

  “Sure, it’s your call. Just giving you the option,” I said, repositioning myself in the flight chair. I could control some of the ship’s modules, but Gwen was going to be the one flying us out when—if Cadan Graves showed up as he promised. Fen was controlling the top turret, and Brandon would man the bottom, not that those turrets would do much in the grand scheme of things.

  I checked the timer for Cadan’s arrival: six minutes. I tried connecting to the chat lobby again but got an automated message that Cadan was not available. He was probably already on his way, jumping through space. That or he was ghosting us and we were on our own and didn't even know it yet. Cadan would perceive the jump through hyperspace as near-instantaneous, but for an outside observer, that jump could take two to twenty minutes depending on the speed of the ship, distance of the jump, and complex relativity equations behind the math.

  I knew this was only a game, but the dread of what felt like certain real death was an uncomfortable sensation. Another fighter swooped past the exit of our docking bay, reminding me that digital death waited just outside the two-millimeter thick energy shielding separating our docking bay from hard vacuum.

  Additional squads of Dalthaxian forces arrived, trundling through the thick mass of blue foam from the fire suppression systems at the top of the observation deck. They were shooting at Ether Rogue as they made their way toward the elevator platform, but Gwen flipped the toggle switch for the ship’s shield generator, protecting us from their blaster fire. Brandon and Fen lit them up with the turrets, sending scorched bodies and blue foam flying through the air.

  It seemed like these soldiers had been assigned to sweep the station as fast as possible. None of them were carrying heavier EMP weapons that would be capable of disabling a ship like Ether Rogue.

  It seemed like Dalthaxia was trying to hedge a raw body count against our ammo reserves for the blaster cannons. Eventually, it might work, and even small blaster fire would wear down our shields over time. I checked my dashboard, observing the shield and power grid usage and watching as impacts rippled across the digital display, showing where we were being hit and how much damage it was doing. Changing the window, I displayed the ship’s information, consuming the contents so I could understand what we were working with for our escape.

  Ether Rogue

  Level 3 Light Freighter

  Attributes

  - Dalthaxian civilian build (semi-modern)

  - DuraCorp MbB-86 Light Freighter

  - Overall Length: 27 M

  - Gross Mass: 76 Standard Mg

  - Total Volume: 2,268 M3 (Expanded)

  - Cargo Module Volume: 980 M3 (jettison capable)

  - Processing Power: 85 PHz (base clock)

  - Reactor Power: 220 sMW

  - Reactor Energy Consumption: 85/220 sMW

  - Processing Power Usage: 24/100 PHz

  Resource(s)

  - 125/125 HP

  - 99/100 Active Shielding

  - 100/100 Reactor Fuel

  - 100/100 Jump Drive Fuel (Dark Matter Fusion II)

  Passive Defenses

  - Armor: 45

  Weapon Systems

  - Quad Blaster Turret x2

  - OmniDrone (Level 2) x2

  While the Ether Rogue’s AI and CPU capabilities weren’t up to the same standards Exowurm had been, the power grid and the sheer cargo volume was impressive. With a final check of the ship’s modules, I was content we were prepared for our best chance of a successful escape given the circumstances, though things were more or less out of my hands unless I could find some way to be useful outside of acting as our official liaison to Cadan.

  The vibrations echoing through Ether Rogue’s frame dissipated as Brandon and Fen eased off the blaster fire. There were bodies all over the place now, but we couldn’t risk sending someone out to gather the loot from the fallen Dalthaxian troopers. Fortunately, our docking bay had been laid out in a way that prevented a more strategic, tactical approach from our enemies. Their attempt at breaking through the bottleneck of the observation deck was unsuccessful.

  “You’re right, Gwen. They have to be scared of destroying the map fragment, otherwise they would have just fired a massive torpedo into our bay,” Brandon said.

  Gwen’s expression shifted in frustration. “Yes, but we're not even close to being out of this mess. Stay vigilant on those guns and be ready to take out anything that comes our way.”

  “No way we’re making it into work on time today, Kyle,” Brandon said to me, keeping his eyes glued to his targeting computer as he went through
the motions to manually cycle the charge canisters and top off his quad turret’s ammo count.

  “It’s fine. We can’t tell anyone other than the boss why though,” I said, even though it was abundantly obvious. If our work colleagues on Tiyvan IV learned we were squaring off against the full might of Dalthaxia, we’d have a lot of real-world problems.

  Gwen seemed intrigued with the conversation but focused on making sure the navigation computer was ready with our coordinates as she went through the motions of pre-flight preparation. “We’re meeting with this Cadan guy on his station, final answer?” she asked.

  I hated it, but this was probably in our best interest. “Yes. We’re going to have a real shortage of allies going forward, and I really don’t want to add more enemies to our list. We don’t have to accept any of Cadan’s offers, but we should at least meet with him and hold up our side of the bargain.”

  “Assuming he holds up his side,” Gwen groaned, stealing a glance at the timer she’d put up on the holographic display of the viewport. The exterior of Vrenn was swarming with Dalthaxian fighters, and the larger ships in the fleet had come to rest in strategic locations. Small shapes emerged from Anchorhead's underside from an unseen hangar, joining together in a tight flight formation. The shapes were bigger than the microscopic dots that were fighters, but I couldn’t identify them from this range.

  “Ether Rogue, this is Admiral Kai Nsara of the Dalthaxian Navy’s Second Fleet. We have just dispatched five dropships filled with kill teams wearing heavy commando armor. They are equipped with ship-disabling EMP weapons, and will not kill you. Stand down and turn over possession of the Strexian map fragment and we may show some leniency in trying you for your crimes. Resist, and we will imprison you all in internment camps for the duration of Eternity Online with possible real-world charges. If you attempt to leave your docking bay, your ship will be disabled and you will be captured.” There was no friendliness in her stony voice, only the detached objectivity of a lifelong professional. I had a feeling the outcome would be the same if we handed over the relic or Dalthaxia had to take it by force.