Chapter 12

The 14th Cycle

Congratulations, you have reached level 34

You have 66 path points to spend.

You have 550 station points to spend.

You have 1495 dungeon points to spend

After receiving the prompt, I added a path point to all three paths, bringing my secondary paths to 17. I then went through the respawn process, made my way back to the command room, and sat down in my chair.

I no longer needed to kill the thousands of rats on my station, only die to them when they had to level, and I could keep doing that so long as my physical tech didn’t reach 20.

Tee’s turrets and the squad continued to tear through the station's rats as I looked around for something productive to do. I’d been pretty bored the last few cycles. I’d found out that the viewscreen made an excellent movie screen, and the replicator could produce more than a hundred varieties of chocolate ice cream. Daniel and I were trying to figure out which was the best. My current favour was 83.

“I’m getting tired of walking here from the regeneration chamber,” I complained. “I wish I could justify the cost of adding a secondary regeneration chamber to my ready room.”

“We’re being hailed,” Tee said, ignoring my complaints.

“By who?”

“The Librarian. It looks like he’s finished his quest and completed his communications array.”

“Put him on the viewscreen.”

The Librarian appeared a second later. He was wearing the same grey overalls I used to wear and was smiling. “It turns out I had to speak in riddles. Honestly, what a nightmare. But I did it. I completed them all with the special clearance method. Now I just have to get my station in order. It’s a bit of a mess. So it’s good to finally see a friendly face. How are you doing, gentlemen?”

“I’m bored out of my mind. I’ve got everything streamlined, which means I’ve got nothing to do. I’ve been helping Daniel, but honestly, the kid doesn’t need that much help. He did well enough in his first challenge that I think he’s sitting in second place for the strongest station. He’s technically a higher level than I am. They’re only trying to break through his dungeon now. I’ve got Tee feeding the Octorin false information that the Kilocksin have been raiding me frequently and unsuccessfully. I’m trying to encourage them to attack with a larger force than they usually do.”

“You told me they use unmanned drones.”

“They do, but right now, I’ve leveled so much that I’ve got so many spare defense slots that I need resources to make more R5-Ms. The daily experience the rats give me is keeping me ahead of the curve, but not as far ahead as I would like.”

“Speaking of the Kilocksin,” Tee said. “They’ve sent their first fleet to raid you.”

“How large is the fleet?”

“There are 6 cruisers, 18 frigates, 49 corvettes.”

“Have they fully committed?”

“No. I believe they are just here to test you.”

“That’s their first mistake. Let’s make it their last. Send the welcome message I recorded for them, and if they don’t reply, let them get close enough to fire and then destroy them all with the first volley. I want to go through their wrecks for shield bracers.”

The Librarian frowned and moved to adjust his bowtie only to realise it wasn’t there. “You don’t think it’s a good idea to let most of them go, so they try again with a larger fleet?”

I shook my head. “I need their shield bracer, and I’m willing to lose their future fleets to obtain it. Besides, if they realize that they can’t move their fleet through here, they will just try to conquer my station through my dungeon.”

“And when they realize they can’t do that either?”

“Then they will give up. I don’t want to deal with their military. I want to deal with their idealistic civilians. I’ve even worked out a cost-effective way for them to make credits from dying. Tee’s going to load it onto their version of forums when a few of them have run the dungeon. He’s been building up an alias and is making himself known, so they will think it’s legit. He’s also trying to catfish a few influencers.”

The Librarian laughed. “That’s a special level of bored.”

“Yeah, I’ve watched the extended versions of Lord of the Rings and all seven Star Wars movies, twice.”

“I thought there were eleven of those movies.”

“There are seven. Old school fans claim there are only four because Rogue One was decent, but there are seven. There have never been anymore made, and the Ewok movies don’t count.”

“I was more of a Barbarella, Flash Gordon sort of person.”

“I can respect that.”

“I’m happy you approve because I need your help getting my head straight. This station master knowledge is vast. I knew our aggressors' earned credits for damaging our station but didn’t realize the value could be multiple times what their vessel was worth. Some races use stations as a way of farming credits with old ships to upgrade their tech. It’s fascinating and confusing. There are so many strategies for success and we need to be ready to counter all of them. I’m even considering letting them damage my station more because of it. The additional damage will earn them more credits which will encourage more attacks.”

“That’s tight rope walking. You need to be strong enough to kill them, but weak enough that losing is still profitable for them. I imagine there are people out there who can do that, but it’s risky. I don’t think we know enough to play around with it.”

“You are probably right. Have you looked into the challenger’s hall and challenger transit ring subsystems to curb your boredom?”

I had.

Those two subsystems were the Great Games version of a station master quest board. Once I built them, I’d be able to initiate random encounters. These encounters could be AI mob fleets or station mobs that tried to destroy my internal systems. The rewards were fixed so I wouldn’t be able to harvest the fleets for resources or the mobs for weapon blueprints, but the rewards were also faction rewards, so I’d boost every station master in my faction each time I cleared one. Later on, I’d also be able to take random encounters that were going to occur to other stations, protecting them. It was the only way I could help others in-game, outside of giving knowledge about what I was discovering at higher levels.

And it also sounded like so much fun.

I’d have at least one engagement every cycle.

I wanted it so bad.

I was so bored.

I sighed. “I’ve put more resources into trying to find out when I can gain access than I care to admit. Everything I’ve found suggests we should have access, but we don’t. Believe me, I’m more frustrated by this than you are.”

“Do you mind lending your brain to assist in developing a strategy for my station then? I can wait until after you have dealt with the Kilocksin if you prefer.”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re no threat. They just don’t know that. Let’s do this. Tee, what’s The Librarian up against?”

For the next thirty minutes, we helped The Librarian get a better understanding of his enemy. Tee pulled all the information he could from the different factions’ internet to get a picture of what they were up to. What we found was disturbing. The Riomari, a fish people, were building a massive fleet. They showed every intention of taking The Librarians station and then moving to attack humanity. They were cycles away from being ready, but the intent was there. They were bringing in more ships from other systems in their sector. The Librarian wasn’t in a position to stop them. Not yet, at least. We needed to fix that.

An alarm sounded in my command room, and the lights went red.

“What’s happening?” The Librarian asked, sounding concerned.

“The Kilocksin cruisers have begun their attack,” Tee said. “When we didn’t fire on them, they kept approaching until they were within range of all their main weapons. Their secondary weapons destroyed our shield, and their forward laser cannons have struck disabled all of the R5-M cannon’s their sensors can see.”

“How good are their laser cannons?” I asked, suddenly interested. “Is it worth trying to spare them to gain access to their blueprints?”

“The damage they caused was minimal,” Tee said. “Kilocksin don’t excel with larger vessels. However, their corvette shields are some of the best you can find. They have a set path that is exceptional. And they tend to invest in them heavily early on, so these should have every level one piece of tech we need to replicate them. It’s worth trying to acquire it.”

“In that case, return fire with non-explosive rounds. Use three times what you need to destroy all targets. I want this to be an instant death without them being able to record anything. Our first priority is still the shield bracer, but if we can get their shield design for the corvettes, then I’m not going to complain.”

“On your command, sir,” Tee shouted enthusiastically.

“Fire!”

“Are you always so dramatic?” The Librarian asked.

I shrugged. “We’re bored, and this makes it more fun. So anyway, now that that’s taken care of, you were talking about what tech you should invest your credits in.”

Congratulations, you have reached level 37

You have 69 path points to spend.

You have 658 station points to spend.

You have 1603 dungeon points to spend

***

The resource points from the Kilocksin fleet weren’t something to sneeze at. Cruisers were universally worth 2,500. Frigates were worth 1,000. The corvettes were each worth 250. So the fleet earned me 45,250 RP and ten times as many credits. That was enough RP for another 905 R5-Ms. But before I did that, I needed to find the shield bracer.

The station only had a basic reprocessing facility. It would break the wreckages down for materials, but it wouldn’t sort through it to reclaim technology. The cost of buying the blueprints for that technology was in the millions of credits. So, Tee used the tractor beam to pull the wreckages into the hangar bay my station tech path gave me, and the squad was helping me search them. It was a fun experience. Not all the Kilocksin were dead.

I had my back against the corridor wall inside the wreckage of one of the corvettes. Tee was confident that several shield emitters were still intact on this vessel. But there were three Kilocksin around the corner between me and where I needed to go. They had already taken out the squad. Despite the level gap, the Kilocksin had better weapons. And one of them was sporting a tier six shield bracer which meant I was dealing with an officer.

I’d come prepared.

“Are any of you interested in talking before we do this again?” I called out. “I mean, this is a hell of a lot of fun, but you’re still like the first aliens I’ve ever met in person, so I’d actually like to chat if you wouldn’t mind. I brought Kelvar.” I held the bottle of Kilocksin wine around the corner for them to see.

“You don’t wish to fight?”

“We are going to fight,” I said. “But we might as well do it after getting to know each other. We can be civil about this after all. I offer to parlay. While we talk, I won’t try to interfere with your ship, and you don’t try to interfere with my station.”

“If this is a trick, our clan will know of your betrayal. I accept your parley.”

I holstered my particle pistol and stepped around the corner to see three laser rifles pointed at me. They had their spears strapped to their backs. I gave the traditional Kilocksin greeting for a respected enemy. I kept my eyes on them and turned my head to the side, hiding my throat.

It made me look like a two chinned idiot.

The officer in charge of them seemed surprised but returned the gesture. He was eight feet tall, with dark green skin similar to a snake. His face was more reptilian, though, with a Komodo dragon's pronounced bone structure. “You are the new species to join the Collective, yet you know our ways. Did you receive a liaison?”

“Good guess. I did.”

“I mean no disrespect, but I would like to meet with them to prove this true. There are only 87 factions who our people can co-exist with, and the addition of another is a significant occurrence. This will change our plans for our campaign if it is true.”

“Tee, can you build a delegation room for a meeting.”

“My turrets will automatically shoot them on sight,” Tee said. “Also, Tumpa will attack them.”

I frowned. “Ah, I don’t know your name, but mine is Morgan. Would one of you be okay with submitting yourself to ritual combat with my liaison? He’s going to attack you on sight, and I think that’s the only way to drag it out so that we have time to talk.”

“I am Rass, and my warriors will fight your liaison so that we may speak.”

“Tee, have Tumpa challenge Rass’s subordinate to the Ta’Su.”

“He’s heading to the hangar now.”

“Good.” I focused on Rass. “I tried to speak with your leaders, but they wouldn’t reply to my welcome.”

“Strength must be proven,” Rass said. “You have proven that you are a worthy enemy. We have failed to prove the same. This will be corrected.”

“I hope so. I would hate to think I am wasting my time drinking with you.” I opened the bottle of Kelvar and took a swig. It tasted like peach tea but was as thick as syrup. There was about four grams of caffeine in the mouthful I swallowed. So I screwed the lid back on and tossed the bottle to them.

Their species didn’t use intoxicants. They didn’t accept anything that interfered with their warrior’s edge. So they’d replaced it with stimulants. My body wasn’t organic, but the system could still make me feel like it was. This drink was going to hit me like an entire case of Red Bull.

Rass unscrewed the lid and took a swallow. He scowled. “This is from a replicator.”

“Sorry, it’s all I have access to,” I said. “If your people would trade with mine I would gain access to the real stuff.”

“Your people would be interested in Kelvar?”

“My people would be interested in many things. The novelty of joining the Collective is new to us. We also make drinks that are similar to Kelvar, so you might find trade interesting.”

“Human Kelvar. That would interest my mate. She likes to trade between wars. She may approach your people about this.”

“Tell her to ask for Red Bull concentrate.”

Rass nodded. “You seem to know my kind, but I do not know yours. What rank do you hold among your people?”

This was a tricky question. I had to be careful how I answered it. Kilocksin officers only cared about position and respect, but our way of life did not align perfectly to convey that, so I was going to have to get creative with the truth. “We do not have clans. We have nations. Territories where we are born. I am not in my nation’s military. But I hold multiple first titles around simulated station combat across my faction. And if you asked my people, they would tell you I am the most loved in my faction. All know my name. Also, I am young, less than 2,000 cycles.”

Rass blinked. “You are a child. And yet respected among your kind, how?”

“All my people are children compared to yours. We live less than 5,000 cycles. And, I am respected because I caused the moderators to take notice of me. They were not allowed to reset my progress without compensation. I gave my people their health and youth.”

Rass gave their version of a nod, a double blink. “This is a rare thing to do. Among my people, those who do so are given the title Ma’Lock. To us, you are Ma’Lock Morgan. It is an honor to meet you.” Rass and his soldiers bowed. They did so without looking at me. It was the highest honor they gave to an enemy. It meant that their respect for me outweighed their enmity. They rose. “A Ma’Lock who gives his compensation to his clan is to be twice respected.” They bowed again. “But a Ma’Lock who gives it to all is to be shown respect by all three times.” They bowed a third time. “Thank you for showing respect to my men and I. We are honored.” He took another swig and then passed the bottle along. “Do your people fight?”

“We were always at war with ourselves. Since we joined the Great Game, there has been peace. We will make war on others from now on.”

“Will you win?”

“Some believe so. They are short-sighted. We are new to the game. We cannot expect to arrive and win. Our territory will all be gone within 100 cycles unless something changes.”

“You expect to lose your station? You’re strong to have defeated us so quickly.”

“I am, but the moderators imposed steep penalties on me for that strength. My progress will soon slow.”

Rass hissed, giving their version of a chuckle. “I do not believe you, Ma’Lock Morgan. You speak like our Warlords. You move like them too. Your eyes never stop, and you stand ready to pull us apart at any moment. All Warlords speak of limitations on growth, yet our heads barely reach their ankles. What they call slow progress we look at with envy, for such great growth is beyond us. They do what they do not to survive, but because that is how they live.”

I smiled. “They sound like my kind of people.”

Rass’s hissing grew louder, showing laughter. “You will soon meet them, Ma’Lock Morgan. They will look forward to conquering your dungeon and taking your station from you.”

“I will prepare a welcome for them then. I wish to make a good impression on your people.”

“Why?”

“Because my sector will fall, and when it does, I would like your clan to take my people as mercenaries.”

Rass frowned. “That would require trust that our people do not have.”

“Tell your leaders that I will hold this station. They may try all they like, but it will not fall before my sector does. And if they want my help protecting their border against invasion, that is my asking price. I could easily limit my range so your enemies could skim my edge and invade you unimpeded.”

Rass nodded. “I expect nothing less from an enemy, Ma’Lock Morgan.”

Tumpa strode around the corner and walked past me. He wore only a ritual loin cloth without other adornments. His muscular frame dwarfed the other Kilocksin as he eyed up his opponents. “Who dares to challenge Tumpa?”

Rass and I continued to talk as his warrior fought Tumpa. The ritual fight they were doing was long and slow. It involved three rounds with a reprieve in between. There was the first to land a strike, then the first to draw blood, and finally to the death. Our conversation became less serious as we watched the ritual. We had said our peace. This was more about building a relationship and understanding each other than trying to gain information. And I’d given far more information than Rass had, but I’d had to in order to open the door to proper communication. If I defeated their warlords when they came to my dungeon, they might open dialogue. A good relationship with them was necessary if my sector had any chance of surviving long term. Tee had opened my eyes to what that would take. And the combined might of a clan and a faction in a Kilocksin sector might let them hold out for decades. And since the first decades were always the most profitable, that was important.

To my surprise, Tumpa beat both of Rass’s soldiers without them landing a blow. That seemed to annoy Rass, so he challenged Tumpa himself and then lost, dying as easily as the others. It wasn’t until he was dead that I asked Tee how Tumpa was winning.

Tee chuckled. “It turns out that since he’s your liaison, and since their people have a lot of ritual combat, he needs to be strong enough to compete with you effectively to teach you how these rituals work, so he scales with your strength and skill. You asked the moderator to make you the best fighter in your galaxy, so Tumpa has enough skill to match you. You also currently have a physical body of 18, so he’s your match. Tumpa was going easy on them.”

I walked over to Rass’s body and took the shield bracer off his wrist. “Well, that will keep them on their toes, at least. Also, when you say I’m the best fighter in my galaxy, what exactly do you mean?”

“I mean, you could fight Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee, Mohammad Arlee, and half the UFC all at once and still win. I mean as yourself, not as you are here.”

“I didn’t think I was that good.”

“That’s because you haven’t tested yourself. The station quests and your brothers don’t count. But how easily you walked through them should have given you some clue. Now give that shield bracer to Tumpa and go disconnect those shield emitters and everything else you can salvage. We need to start preparing the dungeon for the Kilocksin raiders.”