Six goblins lined up in a wooden booth made of scrap wood, AKMs in their hands and dutifully practiced under the watchful eye of both Marcus and Gabs. The generous gift Melnik gave Marcus more than secured their present needs for quality arms and ammunition. After transporting everything and divvying everything with Marcus giving half of the container to the chief, Marcus was left with a 40 crates of 7.62x39mm rounds, 6 pristine AKMs, four RPG launchers and half a dozen HEAT warheads after fitting his dozen goblins to what he considered as a bare combat load-out.

The fight between the TAS and SRT had rapidly cooled down after the successful ambush that took out two of the SRTs vehicles and a dozen of their players. Still, Rex, Anna, Ylenka and the rest of the Honest scribes continued harrying the clan by killing any member they found outside the ship. The TAS did the same after finally having the upper hand after days of fighting with the other clan.

The SRT didn’t have a base to attack, instead; they leased spaces within the ship which required them to pay exorbitant weekly rent. This is why most clans trying to establish their own stake in the region tend to establish their own base in the city. Still, in exchange for the high prices for vehicle bays and clan space inside the ship, it guaranteed protection from any clan from attacking their base and taking their collected loot.

That was three days ago. And from the grapevine, Marcus learned of the ceasefire established between the two groups and was then confirmed by Razer the next time they met. A new status quo then emerged, with the two clans licking their wounds with the TAS fortifying their factory, which Marcus then later learned to have been geared up to produce their own ammunition. The SRT then decided to move out of the ship and used the ceasefire to set out and establish their own base of operations in the city’s suburbs in the south.

With the clans going their own ways, it was likely that both sides were only catching their breath, waiting for the next fight between them to start. Even with both clan’s leadership content on letting bygones be bygones, their fighters in the lower ranks would likely develop their bad blood against the other side, and by extension, Marcus’s group. As far as Marcus knew, the ceasefire was only between the TAS and the SRT and did not extend with Marcus’ group, which painted huge targets on their backs.

The cacophony of half a dozen rifle firing echoed throughout the underground shooting range. The noise took Marcus off his musing, and he looked up just as Gabs then ordered them to cease firing. Every shooter then ran to their paper targets a hundred meters away and lined up for Marcus to inspect.

Looking at the targets, their marksmanship was passable. All six were able to fit a dinner plate sized group within their target’s torso. All the time Marcus spent on drilling the fundamentals on these goblins bore some fruit, as his goblins were at least theoretically able to hit their marks within a human’s center mass. Of course, with the player’s armors and shields, they would have to hit their targets repeatedly to kill them, but enough rifles shooting at the same player would likely take him or her out in the first volley.

Marcus nodded, then gave an order for them to continue.

Moving away from the shooting range, Marcus arrived at the obstacle course which was being run by Fleex, who was overseeing his own six squads of goblins. The goblins would run a short sprint with mock rifles carved from wood and vests filled with sand towards the obstacle course. It had been a project, costing Marcus a favor with Bo.

The course offered tires everyone had to run through, with each leg landing within the holes, monkey bars, and a pull up log set low enough to accommodate their shorter stature. At first, the goblins were skeptical with the sets of structures but soon grew popular with the Chief, but not his men.

The goblins running the course didn’t pause at Marcus’ approach. Fleex only gave a short salute to him as he approached, then went back to overseeing his own squad. As he passed the newly promoted goblin Sargeant, Marcus patted him on the back and followed the scent of something foul wafting through the tunnels.

Marcus soon arrived at the goblin’s shrine and where he first encountered the spider turret with Columbus. The turret was gone, already worked on by Bo and transported to the main entrance to replace the second one destroyed by Crusty’s attack. Underneath where the turret was, a huge cauldron boiled over a large fire filled to the brim with Malif meat and an assortment of edible mushrooms to feed and sustain his small force of NPC goblins.

Despite the volume of food needed, the setup didn’t cost Marcus much, as the meat was provided by his forces themselves during their hunting rounds, which also doubled as training time. The mushrooms that were a staple in the station were sold relatively cheap.

Bountiful food was a secondary result of arming the station. With their newly acquired weapons, the goblins were able to expand their secured territory underground, killing and driving off the ever numerous Malifs that plagued their underground home. It also expanded their tea production, but the increased profits from the cash crop would have to wait until their harvest and processing, which should take another week.

Bo had also made large progress on further fortifying the station. His work in the past few days made the station into a veritable fortress.

The halls were made into practical death zones. Large steel plates, set and secured on the concrete floor, were strategically positioned at the end of every long hallway. They served as one way fighting positions with viewing ports and barrel cutouts. Slanted back at an angle, bullets impacting the steel would rather ricochet to the ceiling rather than land squarely. The slanted angle also had the effect of increasing the projected thickness of the plate. That way, it would take high caliber armor-piercing rounds to penetrate the emplaced covers, but rifles and machine guns in those calibers were heavy and unwieldy, almost impossible to use under the tight confines of the station.

Also, to deny the attackers from using the defenses for themselves, metal spikes were set in front of the steel plates, any attacker sitting on the other side of the defenses ran the risk of getting impaled. Of course, that is not even including the explosives.

Marcus’ head swam at the notion of attacking the station. A hundred men would fail to take over the station. Tons of explosives would have to be used for a successful attack. Every hallway is a deathtrap, every meter of ground would have to be paid in blood, and for what? A station with electricity and water? Infrastructure that would be destroyed once the station would be overrun? No, taking this station is no longer worth it to take by force. Better to leave it be rather than paying the price to acquire a hole filled with nothing but rubble at the end of the battle.

As for Bo himself, he used all his gathered contribution points to shoot himself past level 20, sitting smugly 2 levels above Marcus, who sat at 23. It was fine with Marcus; he wasn’t the type of person to always compare himself with others.

Walking past the once again bustling market, Marcus passed a squad of Goblins armed with their station made 9mm SMG from his and Bo’s design. They had done away with their crude shotguns and developed a love with automatics. With the next shipment of tea, Chief Tiul had already ordered as much 9mm as he could buy. And as it just happened, Marcus knows a guy.

Entering the Bo’s shop. Everyone Marcus had called up for the short operation had gathered. Ylenka and the rest of the Honest scribe, Anna and Rex, then finally Bo. The hum of their conversations stopped at his entrance and everyone turned to look.

“I think all of you already know why I had you all gathered.” Marcus started. The long lull in the fighting dictated that the contract binding everyone under him had to end. The station is secure, and so should the contract. “I think it’s time to end the contract. Its purpose has all been fulfilled, and I don’t want to hold it over all of you.”

“I think we could all agree that we're all fine if you hold it in perpetuity.” Ylenka replied, and everyone nodded.

Although the contract didn’t have a clause on how long it could hold, Marcus doubted that he could hold it in perpetuity. There were just too many ways to exploit his contract skill if it happened to be the case, as anyone with the same ability could easily fabricate scams that could target a lot of players.

Marcus gave a wry smile, but shook his head. Although the notion of keeping everyone in the room under him by keeping the contract running seemed good enough, all good things have to come to an end. “My mind is set. We end it now. There is no reason to keep it any longer. I’ll write up a draft of another contract for another time in case we need to regroup for another operation, but as things are going now, I don’t think that will be in the immediate future, not this week at least.” Marcus replied.

“Then how about we set up our own clan?” Ylenka offered. “Make it official since we’re all operating like one anyway. We have our base of operations, although small, but homely,” Ylenka paused, smiling at Bo. “We have a revenue stream with the tea, and enemies promising PK whenever they see us and us doing the same thing to them. We are a clan all but in name.” She said, with everyone nodding in agreement.

The ball is in his court. Marcus looked at everyone present and they all looked to be in the same opinion. They needed to get together in a group, that’s for sure. To break apart now would only lead to all of them being killed separately.

Marcus sighed and took another look at everyone. A team of historians able to handle their own when things get hairy, a pair of medic and assaulter with the drive to excel, a lone engineer who built up an underground settlement into a fortress. All of them were waiting on his word to establish a group which Marcus would lead.

“Let me think about it.” Marcus replied.

“What’s there to think about?” Anna asked, cutting in.

“I just got a lot of shit still need to do. Unlike all of you, I still got my personal quests pending, and I also got the goblins to take care of. I don’t know if adding the responsibility to running a clan with it would do me well at all.” Marcus shrugged.

“We’re all grown up. We can take care of ourselves.” Anna piped up, which everyone agreed.

“I know that. Just give me some time to think about it, alright?” Marcus replied.

“Understandable. We can wait,” Ylenka replied, and Marcus gave a thankful nod. “But we’ll give you a few days max.”

He agreed. And with that, Marcus ended the contract and, just as stipulated, they held a meeting between all of them on how to divvy up the spoils according to the shares. Since Melnik’s gift, they have decided not to give the loot they have taken off the successful ambush where they took out two vehicles along with the following operations to the Chief. With that, they managed to gather quite a haul.

Throughout the duration of fighting with the TAS, Marcus’ group managed to confirm their kills and loot a total of 25 bodies. After gathering everything, they came up with a total of 12 bare M4s, 3 modified M4s, 3 M240, 2 M16, 5461 rounds of 5.56x45mm ammunition, 1511 rounds of 7.62x51mm, 55 M61 grenades, rations and gear. The total estimated value reached 320,000c, which they could take for their own or give to the station in exchange for contribution points they could then exchange for exp. Marcus also added a cool 100 contribution points he had received from the Chief and it all added up to a respectable amount.

Still, despite all the stipulations Marcus added at the end of their signed contracts, everybody just agreed to split up everything equally among the ten of them, shares be damned. Add the exp, fame, and experience everyone received at the duration of the operation, Marcus could undoubtedly say that everyone came out ahead.

After everything was divvied up, everybody wandered off. Marcus then went back to the shooting range to oversee his goblin force’s training. Fleex’s and Gabs’ squads had swapped roles with Gabs’ squad running the obstacle course and Fleex doing range time. Seeing as he needed time by himself to think, Marcus left explicit instructions for the goblins to continue their training and collect the brass and keep their paper targets for later review and accounting. Not that he would count the brass himself, but it was a deterrent for the goblins to shirk their shooting practice and simply use the bullets to spend on the market and buy whatever they want at his expense. Marcus had read about unreliable troops in the middle east selling their equipment issued, and he was determined to eliminate that risk right at the bud.

Passing through multiple defensive positions, Marcus arrived at the edge of the line. There, the goblins were armed with the combinations of guns either bought through Marcus’ gunrunning or locally produced. Marcus gave the sentries a friendly wave and was crawling through the tight tunnels when he received a notification.

7, 5, 20, 20, 15, 20, 8, 5, 19, 8, 9, 16, 9, 8, 1, 22, 5, 1, 16, 18, 15, 16, 15, 19, 9, 20, 9, 15, 14, 6, 15, 18, 25, 15, 21 Credits received from Player: Columbus.

Marcus looked at the notification for a second before realizing that it was the same code he used with Columbus back then. Taking a minute to set the numbers to letters, he got;

Get to the ship. I have a proposition for you.

Marcus shrugged, transferring 15 and 11 credits corresponding to ok. It wouldn’t hurt listening to Columbus if only to hear what he had for him. Besides, it could serve as a nice distraction after everything that happened.