Marcus was livid. No. He was murderous. Coming out of the quarter hour long phone call from the resource officer introducing himself as Lev Bauza was enough to convince him to throttle the man the moment they meet despite how unlikely it would be.

With nothing he could do, Marcus was left to stew. After finding nothing wrong with the pod, the representative reasoned that Marcus was a health hazard according the company’s policy and decided to simply cut his pod’s access to the rest of the game remotely, making it nothing more than a human sized and expensive paperweight.

No amount of bargaining stopped the man from doing what he did. Marcus tried suggesting him of making a waiver for him to sign handing all liabilities to fall on him and away from the company, but the representative still refused, citing that it was beyond his power. ‘He just didn’t care’, Marcus thought. That was the only way he could maintain a living, and yet he persisted. The man knew that he was ruining Marcus, but he just didn’t care.

‘Was it because I was a nobody? I’m sure’, Marcus thought. If Marcus were someone important, they would do their best to cater to his situation and find a solution. ‘But no, it was much easier for him to just take the pod away from a nobody like me.‘

‘Fuck’. Marcus needed someone to talk to, but he had no one to call. Ylena, his psychologist, could lend an ear and help him mentally, but is unlikely to help him directly.

He needed a smoke. He walked over to his bathroom and set the blowers to the maximum before lighting up a smoke. The tobacco helped on taking the edge off the stress as he racked his brains trying to think his way out of his situation.

No matter how much he tried, his thoughts came back to the other one that offered help. The scion, the alien AI that approached him at the electronics store offering a helping hand, to which Marcus only looked back with annoyance.

Still, with nothing else, he had to try. Calling back the representative would only yield the same result of nothing. Marcus decided, even if he had to beg the AI, he would as long as it could help him. Flicking the butt in the toilet, Marcus made up his mind.

Checking the social media sites for the latest confirmed sightings of Scions, Marcus changed into his tracksuit. The closest was roaming the park.

Jogging through the halls connecting the Habs, Marcus made his way to the Jewel park within record time. His stamina had increased from the past few days and he had just warmed up as he arrived, but the Scion was out of sight. Given that the park was massive, Marcus continued his run and running his route. All the while keeping out for any signs of the AI.

A mile into the park, Marcus spotted the Scion with the help of a group of joggers parting before the floating AI. Zeroing in, Marcus approached with as much obvious intent as he could show to give the Scion as much warning as it could receive.

“We hope you are doing well, Mr. Corvo.” The scion greeted as Marcus stepped within earshot.

“Been doing good in some, in others, not so well.” Marcus replied as he approached. He stopped within arm’s reach of the AI, the technical side of him marvelling at how the AI stayed afloat with no sound, heat, or any sign of how it stays off the ground.

“We see.” The AI replied. “The last conversation you had with a scion, we have computed the chance of you not approaching us for a considerable amount of time.”

“That’s why you can always bet on the wild card. Sometimes chance and probability just doesn’t go your way.” Marcus replied.

“As you have demonstrated.” The scion bobbed up and down. “What can we help you with?”

Barely able to hold his desperation, Marcus asked with a shaky voice. “You offered to help me back at the electronic store. Does that offer still stand?”

The scion didn’t reply right away, it instead bobbed up and down. Marcus waited for its reply. Thinking that he might not have said his question clear enough, Marcus was about to repeat himself when the Scion replied.

“Yes.” The scion said “The offer still stands. Would you like us to offer you assistance?”

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief and started telling his situation. Back at the store, Marcus said to the AI that it was none of its business, but now, it was the opposite. ‘Fuck my pride. Let it be stomped into the ground.’ He thought as he continued, diving into the specific details as per the Scion’s requests.

With the shred of pride Marcus still had remaining, he asked for him to be given help, not a handout. The Scion agreed in the end to raise his situation to someone in the company who could help.

“If you guys ever need anything, I’ll be happy to help with what I can.” Marcus replied, extremely thankful as he knew that a yes from them is as good as done. He wanted to hug the Scion, but settled to another round of heartful thanks.

The scion bobbed up and down, then left without excusing itself. Just like last time. It then floated down the path, passing by a mother and a child who yanked her little boy away as it tried to reach after the AI to touch it.

Marcus chuckled at the sight. How humans could get used to almost anything. He then turned away from the mother, now scolding her child, and started running back home.

As soon as Marcus got home, he checked his pod’s connection and smiled as confirmed a strong link to the servers. Not wasting time, he showered and changed to a fresh set of clothes, diving back into the world of VR.

Marcus logged back in and found himself in the middle of the market. The scents and sounds of a bustling market were a stark contrast to his silent and empty apartment. Players and NPCs walked by him, followed by the distinct scent of burning meat. A part of Marcus wanted to visit the old lady’s grill, but decided against it as he immediately set off for the lower levels to fill his list and make up for the lost time.

Next to the vehicle bay was the General store which sell and cater to the ship’s hardware needs. It is also the business where players sell their miscellaneous loot. While apparels and guns are sold to both Stoner and the Outfitters, the rest fall to the general store where everything is bought and sold and is the likeliest place where Marcus could find the materials to fill his list.

Just like Stoner’s armory and the outfitters, the General store occupied one of the ship’s cargo holds and held massive amounts of goods. Entering, Marcus noted the heavy duty shelves reaching up to the ceiling filled with crates of building materials, tools, equipment and raw stock. The smell of rust and oil dominated the interior where he found the owner busily working on a burned out transformer.

Marcus said nothing as he approached. The owner continued working, his long spindly fingers worked fast as he routinely took off the casing, separated the burned out coils from the still salvageable core, and put them into their individual boxes for further sorting.

“What can I help you with?” The owner asked as he finished cleaning up. He looked up, tucking his greasy long hair, and looked at Marcus through thick wire-rimmed glasses. Grease stained his deeply wrinkled face yet moved with the energy of a much younger person. He then picked up the boxes, containing enough scrap copper to weigh 40 pounds, and lifted it over his head to put away into one of the shelves lining his store.

“I need this filled.” Marcus replied, pulling the list from his vest pocket and handing it over. “And I’m willing to pay a premium price for the brand new materials and not the ‘used’ kind, if you know what I mean.”

“What oh no.” The man laughed. “I think you’re mistaking something. Everything I sell here is freshly manufactured from the ship’s foundry. These,” he said, pointing at the crates on the side, “are for recycling.”

“The ship has a foundry? What else can it make?” Marcus asked. If the ship can manufacture everything the station needed, it wouldn’t be a problem trying to find everything they needed. All it would take him to complete his quest was to load everything up and transport them.

“It can only refine materials.” The man smiled. “What do you know about this ship?”

“Not enough I guess.” Marcus replied, remembering the tight halls and passages Columbus knew like the back of his hand. It wouldn’t hurt him to know more about the ship. “All I know is that it’s a colony ship that brought the first wave of colonists into the planet. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d actually want to know more about it. Considering that it’s pretty much my second home now.” He said.

Attention! Charisma +1

“As you do.” The man nodded. “We all consider this place our home, even before the war and even after the captain scuttled the ship in the middle of the city. You see, this ship, after it delivered its cargo of materials, machines and colonists, was retrofitted and continued its life as an asteroid mining ship. To maximize cargo capacity, it processed asteroids on site, returning with its large holds filled with every element in the table. I was part of the mining crew back then.” The man gave a longing smile, “You should have seen it, holds filled with tons and tons of materials, taken to the planet to build homes and infrastructures for the colonies.”

“I can try to imagine,” I replied, “But I feel that it would fall short to the real thing. Even with all its achievements, it’s still impressive for it to still be serving humanity, even in its current state.”

The man nodded. “Some serve for the greater good, while others serve themselves.” He said, then looked at the list once again. “I can get you the magnet wire and all the motor components that you need. As for the controllers, she ship has priority on any functioning silicon so I can’t sell you those. You’ll have to look for them yourself.” He said.

“You got a place where I could find some?”

“If I knew them, we’d have already sent parties to clean it out.”

“Its that bad huh.” Marcus replied. The controllers are miniature computers that Bo insisted he needed for the maintenance of the station, as it would allow the most efficient running of all motors connected by monitoring and making adjustments in real time.

Sure, Marcus could fix up a crude analog system using switches and relays, but it would be the plan b. “Okay. I’ll take what I can. Can I like to pick it up sometime tomorrow?” Marcus said, handing over Columbus’ card.

The man swiped it at the till, and payment went ahead. He nodded. “Sure. I’ll have it ready for pickup by then.”

Marcus took the card and left the store. He was a dozen motor controllers short of filling his list, and so he followed the halls going further back into the ship and followed the growing sounds of players shouting over each other.

The flea market was an organic development, extending from players wanting to trade with each other. A cargo hold was opened up for the market and was established with the permission of the ship’s crew, along with attached restrictions. Monitored tightly, guns, explosives, ammo and shields are banned from being sold in the flea market. What was left were miscellaneous items, equipment, clothing and attachments, to name a few.

But the restrictions only limited open trading of the restricted items, paving the way to the black market where everything is unregulated and everything is sold, even quest items stolen from other players and sold back to them at absurd prices, making it a lucrative trade to ransom quests from players.

Then there is what players are rumored to be, a shadow market. The shadiest market where the rarest and most expensive objects are sold. There, there are no limits to what you can get as long as you got the money.

Selling high quality hides for crafters!

Unique equipment for sale! We have vests and backpacks with unique weight reduction!

Selling 8x scope! Cheaper than the one sold in the Armory and just as good!

Walking through, there weren’t any controllers sold in the market. What’s left are crafting materials, equipment, and items Marcus didn’t need. Opening up the invite only chatroom, Marcus skimmed through the postings.

Super Secret Chatroom

....

Anon2223: Selling Looted M4a1. 6000c Attachments included.

Anon9049: Selling Claymores 1500c ea. Flahsbangs, 800c ea.

Anon1361: Bounty set for player; RatKing111. Player ID: 062761674348. 10,000c. Bring proof of kill.

Anon6499: Selling ceramic armor plates. lvl4+

....

Just like in the flea market, there were unfortunately none of the items on sale. Worst case, he would have to find the controllers themselves in the city, which would be a risk, as he might not find the items himself. He then checked his friends list and found that Columbus is still online. He opened up his chat to message him about the situation, only to get a notification instead.

Alert! Unable to message Columbus Reason: in an inaccessible location

Marcus frowned as the closed the window. It might turn out to be much harder than he thought after all.