After the weapon’s presentation, the gathered crowd dispersed as everyone went back to their own business. Bo came back from his shop carrying the blueprints he had been working on for the past few days and handed it over to Marcus.

Nodding, Marcus turned to the gathered gunsmiths that were sending him murderous glares. If looks could kill, Marcus would be a pile of ashes by then, getting swept up by the roving cleaners walking the station. The only thing stopping them from being openly violent is the Chief’s support. Still, he had to be careful of needlessly making enemies, which is the reason he was doing this in the first place.

“Listen, everyone. Before we start, I would like to say that this is not me encroaching on your businesses. I am simply supplying the station’s needs that you cannot. Now that I am here, I am sure we can find common ground which we can all benefit.”

“We not want you here.” A goblin shouted from within the group.

“Really? Do you not want this too?” Marcus said, pulling out his bag of springs and laid them out on the table. The gunsmiths gathered around the small pile and looked at the selection. Marcus could see greed in some and opportunity in the others. Marcus picked out the first goblin who he had talked to and made sure slip him his own little bag before the meeting, which ensured his support.

“Now I’m not a greedy guy.” Marcus continued, “This here is only a small portion of what I can help provide you all. I can get you parts you don’t have access to, but more importantly, I can help you all in improving your crafts. Soon, we might be looking at the best gunsmiths in the city gathered around this workshop table.” Marcus then pulled out his trump card. The blueprint Bo had been working at refining for the past couple of days.

“This is a gift,” Marcus showed them the prints. With just a glance, all the gunsmiths were intrigued and bent over the plan and rubbed scalps with just how crowded it was.

Back when Marcus was studying, he had encountered a post apocalyptic game and was mesmerized at the slapdash apocalyptic design made from plumbing parts from Metro2033. He had spent some time thinking about how to make a workable piece, if only as a mental exercise, and came up with a design that, in the end, failed.

Humbled by his experience in college, Marcus had the foresight to forego any novel designs and needless complications. So he went for reliability and functionality first. The design printed resembled a love child between the Australian Owen Gun and an M3 Grease Gun. Chambered in the low pressure .45 ACP, it was a straight blowback, open bolt submachine gun incorporating a few moving parts. The trigger is a simple sear blocking the heavy bolt from charging forwards, stripping the round from the magazine into the chamber and striking it with the fixed firing pin. The magazine fed from the top, not as an inside joke for it being based on an Australian gun, but the top feeding design allowed gravity and the movement of the weapon firing to reduce any feeding issue that may arise from a badly made magazine.

Marcus made sure that majority of the parts could be made with the current capabilities of the goblins. The few exceptions are the springs he would supply them. In theory, the gun could even be fed from a hopper removing the need for a magazine. In the end, Marcus hoped that after a few of the guns were made, the bar would be raised that none of the gunsmiths would settle on using locally made inferior internal parts and raising quality and demand.

But then the guns would have to be used somewhere. Eventually, these goblins would venture out to the surface even more and risk encounters with the players on the surface. One could say that it’s a betrayal to his race for aiding and arming other species, but Marcus could just respond with the generic, ‘it’s just a game.’ He’s here to get paid, with having fun as the second priority. The more bullets flying in the air, the better it is for players like him.

They then ignored the two as the gunsmiths debated amongst themselves. Some resisted against the coming change while others are looking forward to it. Marcus zeroed on his plant and smirked as he was the most vocal in supporting the current developments.

“You think they’ll be able to make one?” Bo asked as they watched the group.

“It’ll be nice if they do, but still fine if they don’t,” Marcus replied. “Worst case, it will keep them busy until we find some way of funneling guns into this place.”

“And the best case?”

“We get to keep a hand in a growing industry in this place that will pay dividends if it gets the time to pick up speed.”

“I don’t know what you see. With the tools they have, they can only make makeshift guns that will never sell outside.”

“You remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“I’m thinking too small?”

Marcus chuckled, “You still are.”

“Can you at least be a little less vague?”

“They teach you business in school?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Right. Then this is how I see it. A few miles away, you have the ship which has an abundance of guns and with our position, we have the monopoly of access those guns and get them here, now we only need something that we need to trade those guns for.”

“The tea.”

“Right. The tea. It gives bonus stats for a while, and who’s the likely people buy them? The players. A little boost in their stats could be the difference between getting out alive in situations or ending up dead. The reason we’re getting the approval of these gunsmiths is so that we snuff out the problems before they rear their ugly heads. They’re the ones getting hit hard by what’s going to happen next. This should distract them long enough so they won’t complain too hard until it’s too late for them to stop it. This saves the Chief from being looked on as favoring humans rather than his own kind.”

“Okay? But how does that help me like you said if you’re going to flood this place with guns?”

“Think about it. You said the station could only produce two kilos of tea per week. That won’t be enough to satisfy the chief now that I opened the market for him. He’s a warlord, the more guns he has in his hands, the better position for him. That means?”

“Expansion.” Bo nodded. “Is that the next step? They’re going to expand the farms?”

“That’s right. You started out as just barely keeping this station afloat, and now you’re going to be planning to expand its most important industry.” Marcus smiled, patting the younger player on the shoulder. “Put that in your portfolio.”

“What’s yours to gain in all of this?”

“The more bullets flying, the better it is for a mercenary like me.”

“If you say so.” Bo replied, then giving a small nod as Marcus caught recognition pass his face. “Your guy, he’s here.”

Marcus turned around to find the taller form of Columbus passing through the crowd. Bo excused himself and disappeared. The two then locked eyes, and both gave each other a quick nod.

“A bit late for a session don’t you think?” Marcus said aloud as Columbus stepped within earshot.

“I could say the same to you,” He replied.

“Yeah, well. You should know that there were some guys gunning for you. They look serious. It spooked me for a bit so I had to get creative.” Marcus replied. “You know a guy named Hoplite?”

“I do. Did they give you any trouble?”

“Just some threats. Don’t worry, I didn’t rat you out. I don’t really care what’s between you and them, as long as we still understand each other.”

“I perfectly do.” Columbus replied. “For your troubles.”

Attention! 150,000c received from player: Columbus

“Thanks.” Marcus said, there was 50,000c extra from the expected hundred. “You got another job?”

“Unfortunately no. Maybe in a few days.”

“I guess you don’t mind me using the same route we came in?” Marcus asked, trying to remember the route taken. “You won’t be using it anytime soon unless you get yourself killed a few times and lower your level.”

“Feel free. Here’s the codes on the door” Columbus said, messaging the sequence. “If you don’t mind. I have to go.”

“Good night.”

After settling all the affairs in the station and leaving Bo to prepare plans to expand the Goblin’s mushroom farms, Marcus crawled out of the station to a brightening day.

His pack was heavy with ten kilograms of compressed tea as payment for the order of eight pump action shotguns with the rest slated on shotgun shells. If Marcus was carrying the same weight in pure white Columbian, it wouldn’t feel any different.

Like it or not, he had to use the surface once more as he remembered Columbus taking the rope down the first time the two of them used his route. He can take it on the next run, but he’ll have to brave the surface for now as he walked his way south towards the looming shadow of the ship over the night sky.

Marcus was vigilant as he walked the dark city streets. Having trekked through these streets before, Marcus moved through the city with more confidence and covered more ground in less time. With the help of his thermal scope, he avoided being discovered by the packs of nocturnal hunters and simply avoided fights and ambushes altogether.

The buildings where they encountered the group of scavengers were empty as he scouted it, and so he made his way up the ramp which gave a straight shot route towards the ship in the distance. Stepping onto the elevated highway, Marcus breathed a sigh of relief as he scanned the empty rooftops and made it back to the ship just as dawn approached.

Walking up the ramp leading to the ship on foot, Marcus looked up the side of the ship and noticed barrels poking out of the ship’s hull and pointing towards the city. Sensor pods tracked him, the ball turrets containing sensor suites detected him and identified him as friendly long before, which is why the guns hadn’t turned him into swiss cheese.

Rumbling came from inside the ship. Marcus stood to the side just as a convoy of trucks escorted by heavily armed APCs and gun trucks passed him by. Painted on the sides was the emblem of the interchange alliance, and he followed them with his gaze. On top of the ramp, Marcus peered into the back of the trucks to see them loaded with steel, glass, and pallets of refined materials.

The convoy continued rumbling down the ramp and on to the attached elevated highway, making their way south of the city. With the cleared roads, the convoy quickly picked up speed.

Seeing them gone, Marcus turned towards the ship just as a round impacted the hull above his head. He dove behind a piece of metal and aimed towards the general direction of the shot to find nothing but the city skyline brightened by the coming dawn. In the distance, the convoy continued on, followed by the distant rattling of machineguns and tracer fire lancing through the skyline and impacting at one of the building’s rooftops.

Seeing as the round wasn’t for him and just a stray round sent his way, Marcus turned and sprinted towards the safety of the ship. “Fuck me.” He sighed. Getting killed on the entrance of the safe zone while carrying his pack filled with merchandise was far from his plan for the day.

Attention!

You have entered UNCS Light of the Stars.

You have been online for 14 hours. Recommend taking a rest.

Despite the quick adrenaline dump, Marcus stifled a yawn as he went straight to the upper levels and greeted the old lady as she was opening her stall. She had just started burning charcoal into embers and Marcus smiled as his head was fogging up from the lack of sleep. Still, he needed to finish his business before logging out. “Had a busy night, young man?” She asked.

“Something like that.” Marcus replied. “You know, since we’re doing this thing of ours, I never got to know your name. I’m Hartdegen.”

“Maryna,” she replied, “but people prefer to call me Auntie.”

“Alright Auntie. You got some of that tea left?”

“Would it surprise you to know that I sold almost half of it yesterday?” Auntie smiled, putting a steaming cup in front of Marcus. “Even when I put up an absurd price of 25 credits per cup, people still flock to my shop. I almost ran out of clean water because of it.”

“Not really.” Marcus replied, taking a sip. “How much would that total per kilo?”

“I can make 400 cups for every kilogram of the tea, which should value it to 10,000 credits each.”

He coughed as he caught the tea in the back of his throat. Coughing further, Marcus replied, “That’s good. Way better than your first estimate.”

“You were right when you said that it’ll be like any drug.” Auntie said, serving Marcus a platter of his favorite. “It actually hurt my pride for a bit when people would only buy the tea and not my skewered meats.”

“Would it hurt you less to give you 10 percent?”

“It would help, but I don’t want to be a tea shop.”

“Not even with that kind of money?”

“The money helps, but I didn’t start all this for the money.”

“What do you need to make this into a meat and tea shop? I’ll help with what I can.”

“You can help with having a taste of my new recipe. I put in some of it in the marinade, to counteract the bitterness. I had to add some sugar and use it on the fatter cuts, see how it tastes.”

Marcus looked down at the skewered meat and took a sniff. It smelled different. It had the aroma of the crushed mushroom mixed in, along with the sweet smell of burnt sugar. Licking his lips, he took a bite.

Attention!

Marinated Meat Skewer (Excellent)

Select meat soaked overnight over a special blend of marinate and cooked under carefully controlled fire. The special ingredient’s effects are reduced in potency but extended in duration.

x.9 Stamina consumption rate (600 mins)

'Holy magic mushrooms! That's ten fucking hours!' Marcus thought as he read through the notification. With the added use for the enhancement of the meat, it would skyrocket the value of a kilogram at least 18,000c. Marcus swallowed and looked up at Maryna, who looked back at him with a grin. “Looks like we’re going to be rich, Auntie. How much weight do you think you can handle?”

“How much do you have?”

“I got ten kilos on me.”

“How long do you think you can replenish your stock?”

“Two kilograms per week, we’re going to expand to make production faster.”

Maryna nodded. “I’ll try increasing the price even more to make it last two weeks. I hope that will buy you enough time to meet the demand. I’ll give you 10,000c for each right now. I’ll give the rest later.”

“Thanks Auntie, you’re a lifesaver.” Marcus nodded. And handed over the merchandise. Funds transferred, Marcus finished his meal with 100,000c richer and went to log out for a much needed sleep.