Marcus startled awake as someone kicked his feet. Groggy, he looked around to find himself still in the cage, in the game. He wasn’t aware someone could sleep in VR and wondered if had any soothing effect on the neural stress he receive from playing the game.

“Get out! Get out! Now!” a goblin ordered, revealing what woke him up. He kicked Marcus once more, hitting his boot, and jabbed with a plastic stick on his face. Prongs stuck out the end, clueing him to its purpose.

Not wanting to get tazed and dragged out, Marcus raised his hands and replied, “Alright! Alright! I’m going.” he tucked his legs back and duck-walked out of the cage. His hands were still bound on his back, making his movements awkward. Looking to the side, Columbus was gone.

“Ah shit!” Marcus cursed under his breath. He thought of the multiple possibilities that might have happened to his employer, mundanely ranging from him simply logging out, to being led into the end of the tracks and taking a bullet to the back of the head.

Marcus followed the leading goblin while doing his best to take the best of his surroundings. They were leading him deeper into the station. The ever present drone of the market nearby grew muted. They entered a part of the station flanked by multiple rooms. Looking inside the opened doors, Marcus could see living spaces furnished with whatever creature comforts they could find. They looked relatively clean, which was surprising, and either meant that these goblins were much more civilized that he initially thought, or this is where their version of the upper class lived.

He was then led into a larger abode where he found Columbus chatting up with an aged goblin. The two sat in piles of pillows atop thick rugs. Columbus looked up at Marcus’ arrival and waved.

“Hey Marcus. Glad for you to join us. This is Chief Tiul. He and I just had an enlightening conversation and have just finalized a deal. Chief Tiul, this is Hartdegen, the person I was talking to you about.”

“Come. Sit. Have tea. I hear you great warrior.” The older goblin said in a growly voice and waved him over. Curiously, he wore a turban decorated with lines of beads, jingling at his every head movement. His body was wrapped in intricately designed robes and sashes, which is a sure indication of wealth in every society.

“I wouldn’t say that, but I could say I could handle my own.” Marcus replied as his cuffs were taken off. Danger gone, he nodded at the escorting goblin before taking his own seat atop the clear spot rug, next to Columbus. Stacking a few pillows for him to lean on, he took the offered tea with both hands and a bow.

It was his first time being tea in such a situation and made sure to be as respectfully as he could. He had watched a video of a Japanese tea ceremony back then and he did his best to imitate it. Taking a sip, it tasted bitter but had a subtle aftertaste. “Thank you. The tea is excellent.”

Attention!

Mushroom tea (excellent)

Brewed from the goblin’s prized mushroom tea. Grown deep within their most productive tunnels using techniques and processes that are closely guarded.

.8x stamina consumption rate (240 mins)

All the while, the Chief observed Marcus. His still sharp eyes betrayed calculation and years of shrewdness, the deep creases in his skin only showed years of wisdom. He was surprised that the game had implemented a quality to a race whose usual characteristics are being a brute and cannon fodder. Looking back at the leader, Marcus wondered how long he had held on his position and how he had achieved it.

Somehow content with his observation, the chief nodded “Yes. Tea is good.” He chuckled, taking a sip.

Feeling the odd one out, Marcus looked for Columbus for backup, to which he only calmly sipped. “We’re waiting for someone.” He clarified soon after.

“Cool.” Marcus replied and leaned on the pillows, getting comfortable. A few minutes passed by in silence, and Marcus had nothing to do but look at the decorations. The walls were adorned with intricately weaved rugs. Behind the Chief, hung a string of enormous canines, likely trophies. There were others too. What Marcus initially thought was a piece of smoothed driftwood, he realized, was a spider’s leg, easily eight feet long by itself.

It gave new meaning to the random pieces of decorations in his abode. A large piece of flat bone, an inch thick, looked much like an armored plate. A large horn was actually a tusk. Marcus had finished his tea, impressed by the amount of trophies earned. He was never a big game hunter looking for trophies, but seeing the amount collected, he could see the appeal.

The Chief being the host, took the teapot and filled his cup just as another human player entered the abode. He wore a gray overall stained with a mix of rust and old oil. Stains covered his fingers up to his wrists and some smudged even covered his youthful face. He looked to be around sixteen, and if the game’s age rendition was as accurate as the law allowed, then he should be around the same age.

“Right. This is the list we need delivered.” He said, handing the list to Columbus. He took the list and only gave it a passing glance before handing it over to Marcus.

“Hartdegen, this is Bo, the station’s local fixer. Bo, Hartdegen. He beat us here for about two weeks.” Columbus said, introducing the two.

“Good job.” Marcus replied, looking over at the list. It was an extensive list of maintenance items, screws, bolts, nuts, there were some items which Marcus took interest to; magnetic copper wires, class h paper insulators, glass tape, among other things.

“Why not just put a new motor in here to make sure?” Marcus asked Bo. Marcus should have known from his look alone, you couldn’t get that dirty normally.

Bo looked at him, looking annoyed. “Unless you can get me a large 415V motor through the tight corridors and tunnels, then be my guest and bring it here.” He replied.

Marcus shrugged. “Yeah, that would be a problem, wouldn’t it?” lugging a piece of machinery weighing about a ton would be a problem. Reading further, he then started piecing where he fit in all of this. It’s a shopping list, and him being the odd man out meant that he’ll be the one to fill it.

He looked over at Columbus, who replied with a curt nod and a sign for them to talk about it later. “You know what?” He called to Bo, “How about you and I visit your shop, let our leaders have their time.” He said, then at Columbus. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Columbus said, followed with an approving nod from the chief.

“Okay then. Lets review the list to make sure we miss nothing.” Bo said, leading the way out.

Marcus followed the guy, him being the only other human in a sea of shorter goblins made it easy to find him amongst the crowd. That, along with their presence, having the same effect as a shark swimming in the middle of a school of fishes, everyone just parted before Marcus, making it easier to sidle up to the younger player.

“You know, when I play this game. Doing maintenance would be the last thing I’d think of trying.” Marcus said, trying to break the ice between them.

“That’s because I’m playing the game for a different reason.” Bo replied.

“Thats so? What’s yours then?”

“I’m here to learn. To get a modicum of experience that cannot be given to me by education modules. You go through them enough and everything gets stale, predictable. Everything you need is given to you, and all you need is to follow the steps. Here, I get to experience what a station could experience in real life, lack of materials, unexpected breakage, insufficient power. I find all the challenges fun and educational.”

Marcus nodded. He did his bit of research in getting back to the industry, only to be beaten down by the amount of study and time spent on training for him to get enough certificates and qualifications for an engineering job. For a thirty-year-old man to spend three more years of remedial study while being on government social program, it was just not viable. He needed something fast.

Of course, he could try looking for jobs without those certificates, but it would force him to enter a shady industry. Of which, Marcus would rather avoid if necessary and will only consider in the most dire consequences.

It was surprising to find someone so young with such an outlook. In a game where it claims to mimic almost everything in reality, it was an inevitability for it to attract people like Bo. Hell. Marcus smiled. Even back then, MMO guild leaders could list it in their CVs, reasoning that it is a relevant experience in dealing with people.

The sound leaking from the machines ahead warned Marcus long before they arrived at the facilities. Entering, the sound of motors running noisily assaulted his ears and is in dire need of maintenance. Looking around, Marcus could see why. There aren’t other machines available to cycle around. Everything was either running or down.

Marcus approached one of the motors. It ran the nearby Air handling unit which was experiencing too much vibrations. He pressed his hand over the casing and found it running hot, likely due to all the workload put into it. With no other machines to shift the load, Marcus can’t really blame Bo. With that many people breathing in such a tight space, the machine cutting off would only lead to tragedy.

Marcus followed Bo to another room, there he found his workshop. Closing the door, the noise abated into a dull droning sound, noticeable but not distracting. On the bench lay an opened motor. Copper wires were pulled out of the rotor windings and was in the middle of being rewound. “This all you?” Marcus asked the kid.

He nodded. “I get a few helpers once in a while, but yeah. You can say this is all me.”

“Then I’d say you did a pretty good job. You’re keeping this place together even if this is a three-man operation minimum. But you really need to get some help.”

“You going to give it to me? You think I don’t know that?” He said, suddenly giving him lip.

“No. You go get it yourself. I’m just telling you what you can do.” Marcus snapped back. “It’s up to you how you’re going to go about it, but as you are now, you’re thinking too small. You’re busying yourself in minor matters when you should rope a few of those goblins outside to wind those coils for you. Because anyone can do it with just the right amount of instructions. They don’t need to know the theory behind the machine to make one and you’re wasting all your time and effort to thinking that you should.”

The kid looked at him with defiance, but soon softened as he weighed the advice. “Yeah, Whatever.”

“Look kid, it might seem to you that I’m stepping into your little kingdom, but its not. I’m just an older guy giving you advice to stop focusing on the little things and start looking at the big picture.”

"Yeah? Then what’s that?”

Marcus shrugged. “I’m not telling you. But right now, I know you don’t have much to do. So how about you help me make us some money instead?”

The station’s armory, if it could even be called that, reminded Marcus more of a plumbing supply shop by just the sheer amount of pipe rifles in storage.

Marcus looked at his gear laid out on the table with a frown. Not everything came back as they should be. Magazines filled to the brim were missing rounds just by the weight. His grenades were gone, along with a small chunk of both his loose and packed ammo. Marcus recognized the ones who seized his gear and gritted his teeth. The fact that they had the gall to be still present and standing around when he checked his equipment and find things missing is enough to piss him off.

He sighed. Well, at least the gun is still intact along with his shields, Marcus thought as he picked up the MDRX. He checked the light and aimed down the sights. He hoped those grubby hands didn’t manage to mess with the zeroing, as it could cause trouble for him. Still, it would be prudent to confirm his zero before he would set out, along with taking a count of how much he had left.

“Nice gear.” Bo said, watching as Marcus fitted his vest. “At first, I didn’t believe the two of you getting here through the dangerous tunnels, but seeing this. It’s convincing me otherwise.”

“I don’t have to convince you, kid. I’m already here.” Marcus replied, looking at the armed goblins holding their weapons low, as if daring him to make a move. He wanted to, of course, just for the principle of no one gets to steal from his face and get away with it, but his situation dictate that he had no other choice but to roll with it. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t like the air.”

“I get what you mean.” Bo replied, following his gaze. “I don’t like those bullies either.”

The two left the armory and walked into the bustling market. The two moved through the crowd unimpeded as everyone else kept a distance away from them.

Moving through, Marcus spotted Columbus ahead. He and the chief were deep in conversation. Marcus noticed the Chief’s bodyguard carrying Columbus’ Mossberg along with a bandolier. It was filled with high brass buckshot and worn so it crossed his chest. Columbus looked up, noticing them, and waved at the two of them over.

The two groups met in the middle of the market. Marcus greeted the old goblin with a respectful nod.

Columbus excused himself from their conversation with the chief and turned to Marcus. “Ah, I see you got your gear back.”

“Not all of it.” Marcus replied. “Some of it seemed to have fallen off when its being transported.”

“Unluckily.” Columbus nodded. Whether he got the implied message, he didn’t show it. “I already have the quest accepted since I’ll be the one footing the bill. Here. I assume your same rate still applies?”

Quest offer!

Supply Run

Type:

Owner: Columbus

The Songbird Station needs supplies, and the Chief had given Columbus and, in extension, you, the privilege of being the station’s first supplier. Prove your ability by coming through with the orders.

Requirements: Fill the required order and deliver it within the assigned time. (94:46:05s)

Accept? [Y/N]

Marcus chose accept and nodded. His previous contract had been for two days of work until the completion of the quest, worth two hundred twenty thousand game credits. An extension after the initial two days would be 20 thousand game credits per hour. Marcus had based his rate on the current minimum wage. But given that their sessions would extent up to 16 hours per day, his hourly rate was even worth less. Still, it wasn’t like he had been spoilt for choice, and he can’t just change his current rate. Like it or not, he still needed to keep his amicable connection with him. “I’ll get to it.”

“Good. I’ll leave you to it then. As for me, I’ll stay here. I hope you’ll be able to handle it on your own?” He asked.

‘You stay and pow around with your new best friend while I break my ass on the surface?’ Marcus thought to himself. “Sure. I’ll manage.” He replied. It would be best since it would allow him to do his planned hustle with little supervision as long as he delivered his part, that is.

Columbus nodded and left with the chief, continuing their previous conversation about their history, their art and whatever information he could extract from him. Marcus had to give it to the guy. He knows how to push and prod at a person. For the chief, it seemed like it was his culture. For Marcus, it was money.

“You’re just going to let him do that to you?” Bo asked as he watched the group leave.

“He’s paying me.” Marcus replied, following his gaze. “Come on. Get me introduced to this place’s gunsmith.”

Unlike the grumpy Stoner leaning over his counter, the owner of the station’s gun store was far more affable. Once Bo had Marcus introduced as someone who could get him what he need, along with a proof of the Chief’s explicit permission to do so, the goblin started spouting out lists of tools, equipment, and materials.

“Primers. Shotgun primers, many. Also springs, good springs. Springs for trigger.” He said, following along with many more items that Marcus simply gave up and written ‘gun shit’. The gunsmith was willing to pay for the materials at their version of a premium price in bullets.

“Doesn’t even felt strange to you why they use bullets as currency?” Bo asked.

“Relatively light, reliable, hard to fake, and actually useful compared to the usual gold. If all else goes to shit, you can use it to save your life, or someone else’s.” Marcus replied, remembering. “One bullet, one life. Just enough to take it.”

“Wow. I wouldn’t think you’re a philosophical person.”

“Theyre not my words. I’m just repeating it.” Marcus replied, pointing over to one of the shotguns on display. The Gunsmith handed it over and Marcus inspected it.

Attention! Makeshift Shotgun

A double-barrelled shotgun made from scratch by goblin Gunsmiths. It can deal enormous damage close range by firing both barrels at once, that is, if it doesn’t blow up on you.

Caliber: 12 Gauge

Familiarity: 0

It was a double-barrelled design. The jury-rigged and slapdash implementation reminded Marcus of the duplet. Breaking it open with a latch on top, it lacked an extractor, and both hammers had to be manually cocked with individual triggers. It fires by breaking the simple sear trigger. Once broken, the hammer would swing forward, pulled by a linear spring, and hit the exposed firing pin.

It was an extremely crude design, made with even crude materials. Simple plate steel filed into shape and fitted into place with bolts, screws and bad welds. Marcus wouldn’t be paid to shoot the thing, but given that it’s being sold, it had to be good enough for these people. He gave the gun back and turned to Bo.

“Look, how about I give you some ideas for a design? Make it a mental exercise. If you could make it work, I’m sure it will be popular here as it would be a lot better than their current guns and could be made using available materials. You interested?”

Bo’s face lit up. “I get to design a gun? Of course!”