“Couldn’t hurt,” said Nic. We did win it the first time we played it, he thought, remembering it was the match-winning Wargame on Didumos. This mode was likely placed in the rotation by Red Terraforming, Inc, to increase the likelihood of a Scarlet victory. But they’d won every instance of Arena before today as well. There was no such thing as a surefire win anymore.

Nic had made a habit of making a visual check of all four of his squadmates before answering, but when they all greeted him with shrugs or shakes of their heads, he told the AI: “No, thanks, RTIFIS. We’re ready.” He watched his colleagues don their helmets and SimSuits and then he did the same.

Their new playing field was a somewhat downscaled version of the initial Arena battleground. No vehicles, fewer towers and walls of cover, but larger in scope than the Zone Control map. Nic wasted no time in issuing orders.

“Max, I’m giving you the reins again,” he said. “You’re our precision weapons expert. You’re the best shot of all of us and I’m confident you’ll lead us to victory again.”

“Your confidence is gratefully accepted, Nicolas,” Maqsud replied. “Everyone, start by spreading out. This is one Wargame mode where traveling in groups will only serve to assemble multiple targets for the enemy in one convenient location.”

Team Scarlet scattered in different directions in search of weapons and Upgrade Paks that would give them an advantage. Ordinarily, sticking together would offer greater coverage and stopping power, but a gaggle of five proxybots would be a cakewalk for any sniper half as good as Max. Spreading out increased the likelihood that if one of them died, the others could still survive elsewhere—but it placed more pressure on all of their individual performances. It reduced their capacity for teamwork.

As they ran, Scarlet 4 continued to outline his gameplan. “Sniper Rifles are always your best bet, so if you spot one, proceed cautiously and adhere to any available cover whenever possible. Pistols have smaller scopes but are certainly preferable to using one’s fists. Your first priority should be to obtain one of these two weapons. Incognito Paks, obviously, will make you invisible for a period of time, allowing you to take stealthier shots and avoid detection. An Ultravision will give you a cybernetic eagle’s-eye view of all enemies at once, even bypassing the cloaking technology of the Incognito.

“Once armed, I think it would be wise to prioritize any Ultravision Paks you may spot, even for the simple fact that activating one will prohibit any enemies from using it. Shanti, any advice for tracking Incognito players?”

“[It’s hard here,]” Shanti answered him after a while. “[Maybe the stones will move. Maybe you can see footprints in the mud.]”

“Roger that,” said Max. “I’ll do what I can to pick off as many enemy combatants as I can before my life is ultimately claimed. In fact, I see a Sniper Rifle with my name on it now! Above all, friends, I should like to stress that the moment—”

The first shot of the game cracked like thunder.

MAQSUD [DEAD]

“Well, that ain’t good,” Jarek sighed.

Nic shook his head. “I’d call that an understatement.”

SCARLET: OOOXO | TYRIAN: OOOOO | XANTHIC: OOOOO

Max was our best shot, Nic complained to himself. This was his mode... and he’s the first one to bite the dust. Single-elimination meant that Maqsud would not be respawning at any point, nor was he even able to offer tactical tips or cheer his squadmates on to victory. His body was now hanging limp in the Simnasium, his eyes treated to smooth darkness lit only by a standby message, and in his ears, a perfect quiet punctuated only by the sounds in his mind.

“Shake it off, squad,” Nic added after that, switching back to leader-mode. “You heard his advice. Use it. Let’s get our hands on some weapons and start stacking eliminations. I know we can still pull this off!”

It worried him how good he was getting at lying to his coworkers. They were much more than that now—his friends. But he papered over this worry with the knowledge that he wasn’t really lying, only trying to be motivational. It wouldn’t help them at all if he pouted about Maqsud’s death for the rest of the Wargame.

Even if it likely sealed their fate.

“Found a Sniper Rifle,” said Jarek. “Headin’ to it now!”

“I’ve got eyes on an Incognito—Shanti, do you want me to hold on to it for you?” Perri offered. “I’m practically on top of it.”

Before Scarlet 5 could answer, a flurry of notifications cut her off.

ROLAN [DEAD] SEVERIANO [DEAD] PERRI [DEAD] ANZHELINA [DEAD] SCARLET: OOXXO | TYRIAN: XOOOO | XANTHIC: XOXOO

Damn, Nic cursed in the privacy of his own head. You snooze, you lose, I guess. I knew getting to a weapon early on in the game was critical... I didn’t know it would decide the winner.

No. It won’t—or it doesn’t have to, anyway. Every game is winnable!

“Stick to cover like Max said,” Nic advised his remaining comrades. “Guys, forget the Upgrade Paks—we have got to get some weapons and start turning this tide.” Scarlet 1 had his eyes set on a Pistol resting on an astrosteel plinth about 20 meters ahead, according to his HUD.

“I got the rifle!” Jarek exclaimed. A snap of gunfire—he was still alive. “Xanthic’s on me! Engaging Nianzu!”

JAREK [DEAD] KARL [DEAD] TARIQ [DEAD] SCARLET: OXXXO | TYRIAN: XOOXX | XANTHIC: XOXOO

A valiant effort that ultimately failed.

Just me and Shanti now. This might be the fastest Wargame we’ve ever played. Nic crouched low to the ground, moving slowly alongside the crystalline growths sticking out of the muddy ground. Pebbles rattled with each step he took. He weighed the stealth advantage of slow movement against the crushing pressure that time was running out, but he tried to follow Shanti’s modus operandi. Low and slow.

“[I found a rifle,]” said Shanti. “[It was next to an eliminated player.]”

“Good work, Scarlet 5!” Nic congratulated her. “I’m almost to the Pistol now. We can do this, you and me together. Friends!”

“[Friends.]” The thought-to-speech software she used only applied limited tonal modulation based on biosignatures. Her voice sounded neutral as ever at the moment; still, Nic liked to imagine that she smiled under her helmet.

He was only a couple of meters away from his prize now. He pressed his back against an astrosteel wall, shuffling alongside it.

The second I go for that Pistol, I bet someone’s going to take me out. Maybe I should try for some quiet melee assassinations instead. To do that, I’d need to know where these shots are coming from...

JEFFREY [DEAD] SCARLET: OXXXO | TYRIAN: XOXXX | XANTHIC: XOXOO

With Tyrian down to just one player, victory seemed assured for Team Xanthic, but Nic would never concede until the last Scarlet life was lost. Every game was winnable. Odds be damned.

“[There’s one,]” said Shanti.

CIGDEM [DEAD] SCARLET: OXXXO | TYRIAN: XOXXX | XANTHIC: XXXOO

“[I got her. I don’t see anyone else yet.]”

“Shanti, you did it!” Nic exclaimed. “Good work!” We don’t need to go on a killing streak to win this one. We just need to be one of the last two surviving players, and win just one gunfight, and we’re the victors!

But Nic knew he couldn’t bring fists to a gunfight and expect to come out victorious. He needed that Pistol. The battlefield was quiet, at least in terms of Wargame activity. The ambient sounds of the breeze and the sloshing ocean waves were omnipresent.

If they want to kill me, I won’t make it easy on them.

Nic dove out of cover and sprinted the last little distance to the weapon stand. A furious pop-pop-pop signaled another Pistol going off somewhere close. One of the rounds grazed his shoulder—it only stung a little.

NIC [96%]

Once he claimed his gun, he dodged wildly. He somersaulted, rolled to the right, jumped to his feet, then hit the ground again. It might have made him look like a fool, but it was worth it to draw out six more shots. Two of them hit him in the legs, one in the stomach.

NIC [74%]

It’s coming from up there, Nic realized, looking up at the astrosteel tower to the south. A Tyrian player was leaning off a landing to take potshots at him.

“I’m hit,” Nic grunted to Shanti in the team chat. “Engaging Abigail!”

Bang went a Sniper Rifle—

SHANTI [DEAD]

—and then pop went the purple proxy’s Pistol.

NIC [59%]

Headshots always hurt the worst. It was like a migraine that wouldn’t quit until Nic died or won the round.

“Reloading,” he hissed through the simulated cranial injury. He was talking to no one but himself, and yet verbalizing his actions helped him focus. He tightened the grip on his own Pistol and struggled to raise it to eye level. He squeezed the trigger twice and received no notifications on his HUD for damage dealt. He knew he had to take advantage of the Tyrian player’s momentary vulnerability, but the pain made it hard to see straight. It was like someone had driven a hot metal spike between his eyes. “Ten... sh-shots... She’s gotta be reloading. Come on, Sigfr—”

He pulled the trigger one more time just as another headshot blew threw his proxybot’s metallic skull.

NIC [44%]

Three more dead-on shots put him out of his misery.

ABIGAIL >PISTOL> NIC SCARLET: XXXXX | TYRIAN: XOXXX | XANTHIC: XXXOO

Seeing all three teams on the scoreboard—with the eliminated Team Scarlet crossed out completely—salted the imaginary bullet wounds in Nic’s forehead. He let out a ragged, anguished breath. As upsetting as the loss was, feeling his helmet detach, the harsh stimulation of his nerves cut off instantly, let the pain ebb from him. At least that part was a relief.

“Well, I suppose that’s the proverbial nail in the coffin,” Maqsud said with a frown.

“You two did great out there,” Jarek told Nic with a nod. “You held out to the end. Can’t win ‘em all.” There was a leaderlike quality in Jarek that Nic hoped to cultivate, if they had the privilege of remaining on a squad together indefinitely as he hoped.

Nic climbed out of his SimSuit last, shaking Jarek’s hand as they patted each other on the back in a one-armed hug. “We’ve learned that Abigail on Team Tyrian is an impeccable shot,” Scarlet 1 said stoically, controlling his would-be surge of negative emotion. “It takes a lot of body shots to kill with a Pistol, but headshots do 15% damage. Keep that in mind for future rounds. Don’t let her anywhere near precision weaponry if you can help it.”

“On a personal level, it’s safe to say that was my most humiliating Wargame thus far,” Max opined. “My humblest apologies.”

The round ended just then—the holographic scoreboard projected in their Simnasium updated.

TEAM FREE-FOR-ALL SCARLET: 1 | TYRIAN: 1 | >XANTHIC: 1

“There’s no need to feel sorry for what’s already happened,” said Nic. “All we can do is look forward. And let’s thank Xanthic for buying us more time. I still think Tyrian is our biggest threat out there, but at least we’re not one loss away from losing the whole match yet. I was worried Abigail was going to one-woman-army everyone out there.”

“30 minutes to clean up 14 proxybots and a few stray guns?” Perri wondered aloud. “Uh-oh. I think this next round is going to be a doozy.”

Nic brought up the rear of the group as the entire squad filed out of the room to relax for a while in the broader Corvette. Perri and Jarek both went for snacks. Shanti lay on the floor; her black hair spread out in a frizzy halo around her head, and with her eyes closed, she almost looked like a parody of some old religious artwork from Earth. Maqsud sat at the holotable, shuffling the custom deck of playing cards he’d purchased on Planet Baitian.

Nic’s gaze was drawn out the Corvette’s front viewscreen again. He took a short stroll to the Control Room, hands folded behind his back. He stared up at the clouds, which were beginning to dissipate, flashing little sneak-peeks at the darkening late-day sky behind them. A handful of the brightest stars were already visible.

There was even a shooting star among them, to use the old Earth name for the phenomenon. Nic made a wish. At first, he felt silly for having any part in a superstition like that, but then it made him feel a kinship with his ancestors from Earth. His mouth curled in a little half-smile.

If I have to wish upon a star for what I want, then so be it.

***

RTIFIS greeted them when they returned to the Simnasium.

“Was I right?” Perri asked her comrades. “Or was I right?”

“We’re about to find out,” said Nic.