In search of the uldans, p.18
In Search of the Uldans, page 18
part #2 of Galactogon Series
“Engineer, translate the following: ‘This ship has been captured. I demand your unconditional surrender. Otherwise, my orders are shoot to kill.’”
The snake’s translated into the guttural Uldan tongue. The enemy’s wings twitched to confirm that he understood everything. I regretted sending the adviser back; he would have liked this encounter. The ship’s commander turned out to be an Uldan—whose mind had been swallowed by the Zatrathi consciousness. Like a parasite. Why did I decide that? Why it was simple. The head of the Uldan butterfly was covered with brown slime, his eyes rolled up, and the way he had wielded his blaster, spoke and resisted me was entirely like some puppet.
I pushed the prisoner aside and walked over to the control console. It looked completely ordinary.
“Brainiac, how do I disable the shields?” I allowed my ship computer to connect to the Zatrathi mainframe. A download progress bar appeared. Brainiac was not wasting time, pillaging any data that seemed useful.
But when the download progress reached 70%, Brainiac suddenly said:
“Shields are shutting down in three, two…Warning! Remote access detected. The captain’s console has been disabled. Attention! The self-destruct protocol has been activated! One hundred seconds left before self-destruction!”
“Abort!”
“The ship is being controlled remotely. I no longer have root access. Ninety-six seconds remaining.”
“Marina, get out of here ASAP! The ship is about to explode in less than two minutes! Jump to the far end of the system.”
“What are your instructions for us, Captain?” Brainiac asked.
“Follow Captain Kiddo.”
“And what about you, Cap’n?” interrupted the snake.
“Do as I say, or I’ll send you to the scrapyard myself! Sebastian! How’s it going?”
“Swell. I am currently at the hangar doors. I was waiting for your call.”
“Wait for me, I’ll be there soon.” As I spoke with Marina, I placed my own armor into Graykill’s inventory and began running at a breakneck pace back, still hauling my prisoner suspended in front of me. I couldn’t abandon the Uldan here. In my rush, I did not take much care with my cargo. By the time I reached the hangar, the Uldan had lost a wing and broken a leg. One last turn—and the doors of the Zatrathi recon ship opened before me. As soon as I stuffed in my prisoner, Sebastian opened the throttle and closed the hatch as we were taking off. Like all good scouts, ours had good acceleration. We left the hangar and calmly flew through the Zatrathi fighter squadrons who took us for one of their own.
A bright sun quaked to life behind us, reaching for us with its deadly rays.
“You’re better at piloting a ship than an armor suit,” I praised Sebastian. “But you have to obey your captain.”
“That’s some gratitude,” the thief grunted.
Meanwhile, the game UI informed me:
New title received: ‘Scourge of the Skies’—your party was the first to destroy a Zatrathi Flying Fortress. Apply to any empire for a personal reward from the emperor.
“Captain Kiddo, we are coming in on an enemy scout. Please hold your fire. And start getting ready—we’re about to persuade the Precians that maybe pirates aren’t so bad.”
Chapter Five
The roundtable negotiations were growing heated. Nobody wanted to budge—neither Kiddo, nor Gammon, nor the adviser, nor me. Everyone was looking out for their interests alone and couldn’t care less about what the others wanted. Once again, everyone was waiting for me to make a decision, but I had no intention of backing down:
“I’ll say it again, that scout is my legal loot. I’m not giving it to anyone.”
“You don’t have the resources to conduct a full-fledged study,” Kiddo kept hammering my weak point.
“No,” I agreed glibly. “But I know people who do. Any guild will pay me cold, hard, IRL cash to dig around a Zatrathi recon ship.”
“You understand that I won’t let you take that scout?” Having exhausted her more reasonable options, Marina turned to threats. “Partnership is one thing. The leading position in Galactogon is something else. I can even renege on my word over it.”
“Then I’ll blow it up right there in your hold,” I was prepared for this move. “I’d rather no one get it, then give it away for free. And don’t try to appeal to my conscience—I ain’t got one. I can’t afford to pass up on an opportunity worth millions of real credits.”
“The Precian Empire wishes to purchase the ship from you,” the adviser suggested, but a deal with them was out of the question. I could improve my financial situation in the real world, only by selling the ship for real money, not GCs. Naturally, I could exchange one for another, but the rate was very unprofitable.
“Surgeon, everyone here took part in the raid,” Gammon came in from another flank. “We have rights to a part of the loot too.”
“I gave you the brainworm. That’s your forty percent. As agreed.”
“Who’d you give him to?” Gammon said, surprised. “Personally, I did not get anything!”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” I nodded at Kiddo. “All inquiries about the brainworm should be directed to her now.”
“My people are already working on the captain,” admitted Marina reluctantly. “Once we have the findings, we will shared them with all members of the raiding party.”
“You started interrogating the prisoner without me?!” bristled Gammon. “My ships provided cover for your boarding party!”
“But it was my people who risked their high-level, legendary gear to get him!” Kiddo snapped back.
“Your people were barely prepared!” I wasn’t about to sit this one out. “If it weren’t for me, there’s no way in hell the raid would’ve come off! I captured the prisoner, remember?”
“I demand to be included in the interrogation!” Gammon all but jumped to his feet. “Otherwise, my ships will take the prisoner by force!”
“Are you threatening me?!” hissed Kiddo. “Have you forgotten who arranged your transfer to the Precian Empire?”
“Uh, actually that was me,” I reminded Kiddo about my role, but she paid me no attention:
“If it weren’t for me, where would you and your great guild be right now?”
“The Precian Empire wishes to receive the prisoner in order to examine and interrogate him,” piped up the adviser, comprehending little of the players’ verbal sparring. Everything that did not concern the game made no sense to him and went ignored by his AI.
“I want that ship and that prisoner, and that’s it,” Gammon insisted. “If you don’t satisfy my demands, I’ll start the attack.”
“The Precian Empire officially declares that if we do not receive the prisoner and the ship, anyone involved will be declared personas non grata,” the adviser in turn issued his threat.
“Well I officially declare that the ship is my property and won’t let anyone set foot on her,” I stood my ground, assessing my chances if the Precians came after me. There wasn’t really anything scary about it. Galactogon is huge and I don’t have any further missions with the Precians anyway. I had dealt with the Uldan base and I could give up the Hansa thing. Come what may—one ought to stand one’s ground.
Everyone was waiting for what Marina would say. It was becoming clear that we wouldn’t be able to avoid a conflict. The only question was how bad it would be.
“Guys, we’re not going to agree,” Kiddo sighed, closing her eyes wearily. “Adviser, if you take the ship and the prisoner, will we have access to them? As participants in the raid, we have every right, if not to conduct independent research, then at least to receive its results. You’ve seen for yourself that the Zatrathi ships fly in ways we’d never even dreamed of. If we figure out how they work—why for instance our EM cannons don’t work on the enemy—it will become easier for everyone facing the Zatrathi threat.”
“The Precian Empire does not work with pirates.” After a long pause, the adviser repeated his standard argument. “The research findings will be shared with the Black Sails Guild and two private individuals: Kiddo and Surgeon. Not pirates—just people.”
“Does that suit you?” Kiddo turned to Gammon. “You will get everything, but through the adviser.”
“Yes, this way is fine with me, but we still have to deal with the scout,” everyone looked at me again. If they were trying to make me feel awkward, it didn’t work. My position remained unchanged.
“Again—I will not give you the ship. It is my rightful loot. And don’t try to sign me up for your research sharing program.”
“Didn’t you mention ten million credits? That’s a ridiculous amount either for a top guild or for me. Sooner or later, the players will capture more Zatrathi ships and your prize will be a dime a dozen. I’ll pay you three million IRL credits and you hand over the ship to the Precians. You can squeeze them for something else while you’re at it. Gammon, you and I will split the amount to pay Surgeon fifty-fifty. That comes out to 1.5 mill each.”
“Two apiece and it’s a deal,” I said. There was a lot of common sense and foresight to what Kiddo had said. Any player could get lucky and steal a Zatrathi ship—their controls were no different than any other’s. And if they ceased being rare, sooner or later, the cost of the scout would fall. Moreover, I had no idea how I would be able to take the ship. When we flew up to Alexandria, the cruiser’s tractor beam had knocked out all of the scout’s electronics as it dragged its catch into its hangar. I had to leave Sebastian in charge, with orders to self-destruct if something went amiss, while I went to negotiate. I understood that the ship would not be given back to me, but I was ready to bargain for it to the last penny.
“Fine. Two million apiece, but you get no access to the research,” Gammon replied. “If you’re selling the ship then you’re selling all the rights that come with it too.”
“I agree about the research from the ship, but not about the prisoner—I have a right to any info you get from the Zatrathi captain.” I could consider the negotiations a success. First, I did not have a crew for the scout. Second, four million would significantly improve the girth of my wallet. Third, no one knew that Brainiac had downloaded the data from the Zatrathi ship, nor that I had a Zatrathi engineer languishing in my hold. I would quietly start a new auction, only on terms that were favorable to me and in a more suitable environment.
“Adviser, Surgeon is ready to sell the scout to the Precian Empire,” Kiddo said. “In exchange, he is asking for a twenty percent discount on purchases from the Hansa Arms Corporation. The Precian Empire shall not incur any further expenses—to the contrary, it will have the opportunity to study the enemy technology and discover its workings and weaknesses.”
I looked at Kiddo in surprise. The pirate was counting on getting her paws on Hansa tech through me, miraculously profiting from a concession being made to me. Frankly, I wasn’t opposed to such a deal—Warlock needed the upgrades. Our skirmishes with the Zatrathi had demonstrated that neither our speed, nor weapons, nor shields were anything to write home about. Everything on the orbship needed to be upgraded and improved significantly.
The adviser conferred with the emperor and after a little bit, announced his terms: “If Surgeon waives his right to the research findings from the reconnaissance vessel as well as the results of the prisoner interrogation, the emperor is prepared to give him the opportunity to cooperate privately with the Hansa Arms Corporation, but a twenty percent discount is an unrealistic condition. The Precian Empire is not prepared to make such a concession. His Imperial Highness graciously agrees to a five percent discount if the above preconditions are duly met.”
Three pairs of eyes fixed onto me once again. A deal with Hansa would guarantee me a steady income, albeit in GCs. If Kiddo decides to extend our partnership though, I would get the research findings anyway. I doubt the girl will insist on the principle of the matter. Making a deal right now was much more important.
“Agreed. Send me the contract and you can take the ship and the prisoner. I have other stuff to worry about. I’ll send you my account number.”
Stan helped me settle all the financial formalities—the money could not be traced without a special request to the authorities, but I doubted that Kiddo and Gammon would oblige them. We were acting according to our contracts and the meeting logs were on my side. The adviser sent me a license to work with the Hansa Corp, and I went back to my ship without saying goodbye to anyone. Sebastian was right about Kiddo: She only cared about profit. A muddy way of doing business. It seemed like she had resolved the situation, but she hadn’t forgotten to extract a profit for herself. I would have to keep my eyes peeled around her.
“Brainiac, we’re going home!” I ordered, returning to the ship. Choosing our next destination was simple and long overdue—we were going back to our planet. I wanted to deal with the loot and bind Sebastian to the planetary spirit in a peaceful setting. After the raid, I already considered the thief a part of my crew. He had proven his worth and shown the necessary initiative. Who knows what other perks this gray-skinned creature had to offer?
I had to give Kiddo her due once again. Before the start of negotiations, she had left the empire through the sector guarded by Gammon’s players, whose guild still formally belonged to two empires. We were allowed to pass without any questions, but as soon as we left the sector, the entire game was shaken by breaking news: Eleven empires at once declared war on the Qualians. The second part of the scenario had begun. In an instant, hundreds of game guilds lost their leading position, finding themselves playing for a rogue state. Even during our negotiations, Gammon started receiving non-stop calls, though he was in no hurry to disclose exactly who was calling. Maybe it was his people congratulating him. Maybe it was the heads of other guild with questions and requests for assistance. The Black Sails had soared to an unprecedented height—the game rankings now placed them in third place in the Precian Empire. That’s what a good relationship with an imperial adviser got you!
None of this concerned me, however. It was much more important to understand where the developers had tucked away my planet. When I reached home, I discovered that it was now only ten minute’ flight from the explored area of Galactogon, instead of the usual thirty. Technically, it was a bit risky—ten minutes’ flight amounted to several months of galactic traffic, which meant there was a probability that some stubborn or lucky player would stumble on our star system. Of course, the odds weren’t that great, but practice showed that at least one player in a million would act erratically and according to some rationale known only to him. We multiply this by the number of players playing in Galactogon and we get about a thousand such outliers who could stumble upon Blood Island due to insanity or boredom. Such players could re-register the planet to their name and I’d have no recourse.
“Stan, is there any way that independent players can maintain ownership of the planets they’ve discovered?”
“A preliminary analysis of the information suggests that there is none. Any player can become the owner of the planet by binding himself to the planetary spirit. To do this, he merely needs to enter the planetary command center. It is impossible to prohibit anyone from doing whatever they like once they’re in there. The only thing that does not depend on the current owner is the name of the planet and the bonus percentages from the Discoverer Achievement. Everything else can be stolen or copied. You can increase the likelihood of keeping the planet by installing an automated security system, hiring an NPC or concluding alliances with various parties. In general, the more pixels you have guarding your pixels, the more secure your pixels will be. Nevertheless, it bears mentioning that such measures carry the risk of disclosing the planet’s coordinates.”
Stan was right: As long as nobody knew about my system, it was more secure. As soon as at least one player comes here, even if it’s just Kiddo, confidentiality will go straight out the window and no one can guarantee what will happen afterward. Any one of Alexandria’s thousand crew members could leak the cruiser’s homeplanet. Did I really need that? After a little thought, I decided not to call Kiddo. If she is as smart as she tries to appear, then she should understand that letting yourself trust another player is a bad idea. Once is more than enough. Therefore, if she asked to register her ship to my planet again, I would say no. That much should be obvious to her. And if so, why call and talk about the obvious? Sometimes silence is more eloquent than any words.
Blood Island, covered with forests, seas and mountains, resembled the Earth, except that the dimensions were several hundred times smaller. Game conventions had retained the typical earthly gravity, which made me feel comfortable on the surface. Brainiac scanned the planet, but there was nothing on it except for the elo deposits. If the developers once hid something here, no trace of it remained now.
