Singularity Read online

  Cursing, I tried to command Exowurm to jam the enemy frigate that had warped in—maybe even gun it to pieces with autonomous turret fire. But it was already too late. Seconds later I lost contact with Exowurm entirely. We were now being jammed—or something much worse had happened. The valuable camera feed we were relying on for information cut to black, and I forced myself to concentrate on the present rather than fret about the possibility that the pirates had just destroyed my ship.

  “We need to get to the bridge,” I roared. If we weren’t careful now, we were going to lose Exowurm only two weeks into playing Eternity Online. The ship was the best thing we had going for us, and without it, we’d have a rough time making any progress in our endeavors. I’d invested almost everything I’d earned working at Rollings Mining Company over the past two years into Eternity Online, and even with the generous insurance policy I’d taken out on my interceptor, I’d be deep in the red if this went south.

  Brandon and I rushed around a corner, and I conjured a ball of mana in my left hand, drawing my blaster pistol in my right out of habit. Brandon unslung his massive shotgun, checking the rotund ammo drum to make sure it was full of shells.

  With my Mana Ball ability, I could conjure and hold onto up eight mana points as long as I channeled the spell. I could reabsorb the mana over eight seconds, or I could spend it before touching my overall reserve. Mana Ball didn’t cost any mana to channel, so my mana reserve would replenish even as I held the blue orb of pure energy. Mana Ball was one of the spells that came embedded in my Strexian implant when I’d acquired it, and so far, it had been a useful way of expanding my spellcasting ability. The only drawback was the five-minute cooldown after using the spell, but I was hoping that constraint would lower as I leveled the spell.

  I checked my clock in the corner of my AIVO. Damn. We were down to 53 minutes to get out of this mess and escape on Exowurm if we wanted to keep our jobs in the real world. I was becoming attached to Exowurm, and this was starting to feel like more than just a game—there was real money at stake. “Speed it up, big guy!” I yelled, kicking into overdrive and sprinting, dematerializing my helmet so it wouldn’t hinder me in combat. The dead fish smell was gone, and my ears were more or less over the worst of the ringing. I thoroughly expected both those things to return in force before the end of our play session.

  Even with lightweight gear, it was exhausting to run this fast, this far. Eternity Online did a great job of fabricating realistic physical strain. As we reached the main elevator, I half expected for us to be locked out. But that wasn’t the case, and it seemed like they wanted us to come to the bridge. Fine with me. Time to die, scum. We hadn’t had any trouble dealing with the goons sent to kill us the first time, and now that my ship was at stake, there was no time to waste.

  “You think those pirates are already on the bridge?” Brandon asked through heaving breaths as I pressed the top button of the elevator panel, unable to read the rune-like printed language of the Virodeshians but knowing the general layout of the ship from the contract we’d accepted. At least they’d had the courtesy to give us the real schematics to the freighter before they tried to screw us out of everything we had.

  “I don’t know, but we don’t have a choice. They obviously want us dead before they take our ship, that’s one of the only things we have going for us. Let’s end this so we can make it to work on Tiyvan IV. We’ll take the paid day off if we have to, but I don’t want to.”

  Exowurm wasn’t built for salvage, and we simply didn’t have the crew power or language understanding to take either of these ships with us if we succeeded in killing all their occupants. Prisoners held hostage and forced to fly their ships for us would be a lot of trouble, and the time commitment for such a creative and oppressive endeavor wiped the option off the table for now.

  All we could do was claim ownership of the ships through our repo system and flag them for towing and hope we were the first ones to come back in order to execute the lengthy, paperwork-infested process. An independent third-party would bring them into the nearest semi-decent station and sell or scrap them depending on the condition. We’d be lucky to get a 20% cut of the proceeds after everything was all said and done. It was a margin typical of this kind of oblique contract, but starships of any kind were worth a lot of credits.

  I took a deep breath and readjusted my grip on my blaster as the elevator carried us toward the bridge. There was no way to know what was waiting for us, but I planned on putting a blaster bolt through the freighter captain’s head if I saw the alien again—it would only take one shot. A non-violent response was off the table now that these goons had sent a crew to kill us after telling us they’d peacefully comply with the repossession for their alleged creditors. It was personal now, even if my vendetta was only against some slimy NPCs.

  I recalled the layout of the freighter’s bridge in my mind, preparing for the worst. The freighter was fairly standard for its age and required a minimum of five crew members for anything but crawling space travel. Large, archaic consoles encapsulated in a latticework of tarnished metal lined the walkways and edges of the bridge’s massive viewport. Those consoles would provide makeshift cover in a pinch, but it wouldn’t be a great place to fight for either party.

  I glanced down at the floating ball of blue ethereal mana in my hand, prepared to use it to extend my shielding ability if needed. Now that we planned on killing all the pirate scum, we wouldn’t necessarily have to return to Exowurm in order to safely log out of the game.

  As the elevator doors opened on the bridge, I realized how much danger we were in.

  3

  I could see how unprepared we were for what was coming, and the slurping shouts of the aliens in front of us only intensified the situation. My trigger finger was itching, and I was eager to consume the ball of mana hovering in my left hand, but I waited, not liking our odds if a blaster fight broke loose. We stepped out of the elevator, walking forward slowly and stepping into the bridge area. The elevator and our immediate surroundings provided nothing to use as cover if the Virodeshians started shooting.

  Our enemies, including the slimy captain who I wanted to kill, were bunkered behind consoles with their weapons raised. They had hauled large metallic cargo crates into the vicinity, positioning them in the spaces between consoles and building a suitable defensive position that more or less eliminated our chances of winning in a fair fight.

  “All of that in the twenty minutes we were gone,” Brandon mused, holding his shotgun steady and observing the work of the Virodeshians.

  The pirates who had boarded were armed with higher-quality weapons than the freighter captain’s original ramshackle crew. They wore padded battle armor instead of grease-stained jumpsuits. I guessed they were at least level two or three, and if we were super unlucky, maybe higher than that. During my first week of playing Eternity Online, I had learned that character level was just as important as the quality of the gear you used.

  In total, there were 13 enemy combatants with at least three of them being elites who would deal significantly more damage and be a lot harder to kill. The enemy line hadn’t fired their weapons yet, and neither had we. It seemed for the time being at least, the pirates planned on talking with us for whatever reason.

  My AIVO did its best to interpret what the aliens were saying, but without the aid of Exowurm’s AI network, it was struggling in the worst ways. I wished I had downloaded the full Virodeshian language into the CPU relay in my EVA suit, but it was a little too late for that now. The translations, which I desperately hoped were incorrect, echoed out through the internal conduction speakers pressing up against my skull, bringing about more confusion than anything else.

  “Only place I can get some decent grub.”

  “I want to love these spacemen, they smell good.”

  “Boxes are the best geometric shape.”

  My AIVO tried to pinpoint the floating translations in my vision to the alien that had said it, but it was failin
g. The pirate captain stepped forward, and the other aliens behind it quieted so it could speak to us. The alien wore medium armor with metallic plates protecting its core, and a tattered coat in a strange style over the ensemble. It held a blaster pistol in one hand and a stocky saber with an energized edge in the other. If we fought, I was sure the boss wouldn’t go down easily. Without the others yelling in the background, the efficiency of my AIVO in translating its words was vastly improved.

  The pirate captain’s purple eyes darkened as it spoke, there was a glimmer in them—something that wasn’t in the eyes of the others. “You are outnumbered. And you cannot win this fight. Drop your weapons and you will live as our property. Your ship and all of your belongings are now ours. Fight, and you will die.”

  “What’s it saying?” Brandon asked, repositioning his shotgun and training it on the captain. “I bet I can drop this squid in one shot.” Brandon didn’t have any AI or augmentation chips installed in his character’s brain, and without the connection to our ship’s AI, he was dependent on me for translations. It was clear we needed some tech upgrades in the future.

  “Nothing we care about. Ready?” I said. The captain of the freighter had the capability of understanding basic universal language, but our initial conversation when we had forcefully boarded the ship had been difficult at best. The time for talking was over, and unless we took initiative in this fight, we would be at a significant disadvantage. The more enemies we could erase from the mathematics of the fight before it had a chance to fully develop, the better.

  Brandon dipped his head, grinning. The big man seemed more confident in our ability to win this fight than I felt. “You know I’m ready.”

  The Virodeshian pirates who had boarded the freighter were likely slavers, and they wouldn’t kill us outright unless they had to. Capture by slavers would effectively set us back a lot further than the lenient respawn penalties we’d incur as level three characters. We either needed to die, or we needed to get out of this alive. I preferred the latter option, and I preferred not to lose my ship in the process. Maybe it was too optimistic, but the payoff for winning this fight and claiming two more ships could make us both rich early on.

  Still holding my Mana Ball spell in my left hand, I cast the spell again, focusing on channeling mana from my body into the already existent orb and triggering Unstable Power. The effect was instant, and the ghostly blue orb in my hand trembled and glowed a volatile purple, then orange as the intensity surged.

  The 16 total mana invested in the spell had compounded to 48, and if I didn’t spend it soon or throw the orb, it would explode in my hand. I had no intention of spending the mana in a conventional sense of the word, nor had I learned a spell that would allow me to do so efficiently yet.

  Yelling, I tossed the orb into a dense cluster of alien combatants, watching it sail through the air and detonate in a dome of pure energy before they had time to process what was happening.

  The shockwave blasted through the room with a violent shudder. Bodies, body parts, and makeshift fortifications flew through the air from the point of impact. Screams of pain from our enemies overpowered the surprised, disarray of inaccurate blaster and pulse rifle fire that chased after us in retaliation. We wouldn’t have long until the enemy effort became more focused and organized. A quick toggle of an AIVO setting displayed the health bars of my enemies above their heads. The explosion had claimed the lives of four Virodeshians while damaging many others that had been just outside the primary blast radius.

  Brandon took the explosion and resulting shockwave as his cue to start shooting. One of his slugs bounced off a metal plate on the pirate captain’s chest armor, sending a shower of sparks across the floor as the powerful projectile buried itself deep into one of the computer consoles to the alien’s right side.

  I brought up my light blaster pistol and targeted one of the freighter technician aliens that was down a third of its health from my Unstable Power bomb. One of my shots connected, catching the alien in the shoulder and burning through its jumpsuit. Its remaining health dropped 10%.

  The Virodeshians were shouting again, giving it their all and shooting back with no intention of capturing us as slaves anymore.

  Down eight mana, I started channeling the remaining 27 points in my reserve into a rank 5 Mana Shield for both Brandon and I as we rushed toward two overturned cargo crates that had been blasted closer to us after I threw my mana bomb. Rank five was the highest rank I could channel Mana Shield as a level two spell, but it was eating six mana per second while I channeled it.

  With a fifth-rank iteration, the spell gave us each an energy shield that protected us for 140% of our maximum health. With all three of his attribute points invested in Body, Brandon had nearly double my health and took the lead, rushing in front of me and soaking as much damage as he could while we rushed to cover, taking quick, desperate shots as we ran. Brandon’s shield was dropping way too fast, and mine wasn’t doing much better, even as Brandon blocked most of the damage coming our way.

  Blaster bolts screamed past me, searing my vision as many of them collided with our mana shields in sprays of colorful sparks. I was beginning to feel the onset of a headache from spending too much mana too quickly, and I had almost depleted all of my available resources. If I kept going, I would experience one of the more negative attributes of spellcasting and the mental strain would intensify.

  Soon, we’d be depending on our EVA suits to protect us, and they wouldn’t hold up against this kind of firepower. Right before we dove behind large crates that had been displaced by the explosion, Brandon’s shotgun took everything from the shoulders up off one of the aliens to our right, painting the Virodeshians’ immediate surroundings and allies with green goop and jagged fragments of cartilage.

  My back slammed into one of the supply crates, and I dropped Mana Shield, down to only four remaining mana in a fight that was nowhere close to being finished. I’d be more or less unable to use any more magic for the remainder of this fight—I just hoped our lives wouldn’t depend on it. I had used my last resource injector the previous week, and the crappy backwater station we’d been forced to replenish our supplies at after leaving Vrenn didn’t have anyone selling them.

  “Why do I always get into these situations with you?” Brandon demanded, raising his shotgun over the top of his crate and firing slugs blindly at our enemies to keep them from getting too brave and advancing on our position. If they decided to rush, they would have a solid chance of overrunning us.

  “It’s part of my charm,” I replied through gritted teeth, peeking to the side of my crate and sinking a blaster bolt into the chest of one of the Virodeshian mechanics, burning through its grease-smeared vest with ease. The alien recoiled from the impact, trying to run back to cover but face-planted on the ground only a second later, unmoving.

  Through the blur of battle, I realized that the odds were starting to shift in our favor. There were only seven squids left, including the three elites and the freighter captain that was hiding behind ample cover, doing its best to stay out of harm’s way.

  The putrid combination of sweet ozone, scorched chemicals, and dead, half-cooked fish was filling the area. I choked on the suffocating odor, but powered through it, resisting the urge to materialize my helmet on my head to keep my vision intact.

  The pirate captain yelled something, but the barking from Brandon’s weapon drowned out its slurping words, removing the possibility of my AIVO interpreting them. I peeked to the other side of my crate, cursing as a blaster bolt screeched across the edge mere inches above my head, carving a glowing red-hot furrow in the reinforced metal. I regained my focus, flicking my weapon into place and hitting the pirate captain with three quick shots, two hitting its protected chest, and the other hitting a leg, but its health bar didn’t budge. The alien’s armor was still soaking all the damage we were putting out.

  The captain was staring right at me, and the way its face tentacles were flailing made it look like it
was grinning maniacally or doing the Virodeshian equivalent of it. Dark purple energy surged from its body, lunging forward and wrapping around the crates we were using for cover. Magic—or at least a really good tech impression of it. The pirate captain flipped its head back, its tentacles exaggerating the motion as they whipped through the air, cascading behind it in a lengthy arc.

  The crates we had been using for cover flew through the confined space of the bridge as if they were no more than flimsy aluminum cans, leaving us helpless and exposed.

  4

  I checked my AIVO as Brandon and I scrambled to our feet, suddenly vulnerable where we had protective cover only moments before. Some of my mana had recharged during the fight after we made it to our cover, but I still only had nine mana to work with. I could channel it into Mana Ball or Mana Shield, but I wouldn’t be able to use my only other spell, Unstable Power, any time soon.

  Brandon had a couple tricks up his sleeve as well, but the character he was building so far was relatively one-dimensional: shoot enemies with an oversized shotgun and mitigate a ridiculous amount of damage through armor and a large health pool.

  The pirate captain snarled, seeming to recover from its mana expenditure. If the alien had more magical spells or abilities, it wasn’t using them for now. Raising its blaster pistol, the alien toggled the fire selector on the side, switching it to full auto and sending a volley of red blaster bolts zooming toward me. The other aliens took note of their captain’s actions and focused their fire on me as well.

  I grimaced, diving forward and attempting to scramble behind an already damaged, smoking computer console, but was hit during the dive without the luxury of a shield to protect me. Warning messages flared across my AIVO and obscured my vision. Burning pain surged through my body, searing my stomach, shoulder, and leg where three points of impact sizzled. Even though I was only feeling 25% of the real-world pain from the injuries, I had to fight through the pain, blinking away hot tears.