In Search of the Uldans, page 34
part #2 of Galactogon Series
“Don’t forget that you promised Filta a spot,” said Tryd.
“I doubt they’ll give her to us now,” I said to the pirate’s disappointment. “I don’t think the Delvians have time for any of that now.”
“Then let’s go get her ourselves. The Zatrathi won’t bother with Zarvalus for a long time yet.”
Oh how quickly Tryd changed his tune from the ‘it’s been twenty years’ blues to the ‘I ain’t leaving the system without her’ rag.
“They won’t let us on Zarvalus,” Brainiac injected. “We have no permission.”
“So we’ll get it!” There was no stopping Tryd. “The palace has only been partly destroyed. We’ll fly there, rescue the emperor and scram! He is definitely still alive; otherwise everyone would already be yelling about his death. People like him are protected from everything.”
The pirate’s idea was so nuts that I agreed without hesitation.
“Brainiac, set course for the palace. We will…” I did not have time to finish. The snake, as always, played the spoilsport:
“Multiple bandits incoming at eight o’clock. Zatrathi interceptors.”
“Gunner, don’t let them close in on us! Brainiac, fly low and get the marine ready. There’s bound to be some rubble to clear in the palace. Sebastian, you’re coming with us. Here’s your chance to plunder a real bona fide imperial residence. What is going on up above in orbit?”
“Two flying fortresses have entered the system and are systematically destroying the Delvian defenses. The Grand Arbiters cannot stop them.”
Mission updated: A Pirate I was Meant to be. Part 1. 55 of 150 interceptors destroyed.
Planetside, the Zatrathi interceptors burned like any other ships. My upgraded beam cannons worked wonders, destroying the fighters two at a time. Of course, I had to strain and fly as close as possible to the ground, trying to get lost in the smoke, fires and ruins of the Grand Arbiter. It would be foolish to fly in the open with such a numerous enemy around. Then again, no one was looking for me. The Zatrathi were entirely occupied in shooting down the armada of transports, frigates and all the other available vessels that had rushed to evacuate the Delvians. The low-flying orbship which packed a hefty punch did not interest them much.
We reached our location almost without incident—we had more trouble with the Arbiter debris exploding all around us than the Zatrathi. Brainiac found a small burned out hollow and settled us in it, deploying the rhinoceros. We followed behind our tank, wondering at the remains of the palace. The Arbiter had fallen very unfortunately—her bow had buried the main building and the nearby buildings under it, leaving only the complex’s wings intact. Fires raged all around, spewing up clouds of black smoke and completely hiding us from the Zatrathi. The marine bellowed, drawing my attention—he had managed to break through the hull of the Grand Arbiter. There were no other ways to the throne room.
“Sebastian, you know what to do,” I reminded the thief and turned to Brainiac: “Send a dozen droids to haul the loot. Download all the data from the Arbiter, while you’re at it. That information could be very important to us.”
I hadn’t had a chance to rummage around an Arbiter before and I was certain that any player would jump at the chance. The loot could be sold, but so could any data and video Brainiac uncovered. Stan confirmed my guess that there were no public sources about the Arbiters’ technical specifications. Players were supposed to take it for granted that there was no way of fighting an Arbiter. And though Kiddo had already shattered this axiom—that was more as a result of good luck than study and logic. Not my preferred M.O.
“This way!” shouted Tryd, following right behind the rhinoceros. Inside, the Arbiter was no different than other NPC vessels. Bulkheads, decks, communications, corridors. There were some loot crates here and there—the Delvian crew had heroically gone down with their ship. I opened one of them—a C-class blaster, a Delvian fleet ensign’s uniform and a couple hunks of elo. Nothing to write home about, in other words.
“We need a retaining wall,” Tryd nodded at a large pile of rubble. The rhinoceros again smashed through the Arbiter’s hull and was now resting, noisily drawing in air through his flared nostrils. His red-hot horn would not cool down, and it was becoming apparent that the marine would not be able to go on at this pace. He needed a rest, for which we had no time.
“Brainiac, send five droids here,” I ordered, and having thought a bit, added: “And withdraw the rhino. Look to his recovery.”
The rhino, obeying the computer’s orders, began to plod back to the orbship. Five droids immediately took his place, awaiting my instructions.
“One here, the other there, the third carries the stones and the other two on the flanks,” Tryd took command, understanding how to take apart the collapse better than me. I surrendered the reins and the robots got to work. Just as the work was starting in earnest a beam fell from above. We would have been flattened if it weren’t for one of the droids heroically saving us just in time, by wedging himself between the beam and a ledge. The beam crushed the robot’s upper torso, but his legs locked and kept the beam from crushing us too. I had to call a replacement droid and listen to the snake’s moans about how tired she was of droid repair work.
Tryd went on working with more caution—the droids built columns of stones to support the ceiling and strengthened the cleared areas. Then Sebastian came back all in tears—there was nothing of value on the Arbiter. Meanwhile, Brainiac could not connect to the internal network as it had burned out. Everything that could have been stolen had been destroyed from the impact. The captain’s deck was completely gone—the beam cannons had incinerated it entirely. On the whole, it was a mess. My plan of looting the Arbiter was foiled entirely.
“There is a passage here!” Tryd yelped happily. “I knew that the throne room would survive! It was built to last eons!”
Without waiting for permission, the pirate ducked into the dark corridor. My spatial scanner generated a model of the throne room in my HUD. In my opinion, the word ‘survive’ was quite a stretch. The columns, like the partitions, were broken. The ceiling had not collapsed solely because two long beams had come together cross-wise, retaining the slumping arch. The droids rushed in after Tryd, illuminating the hall with their searchlights. It was littered with flickering crates of loot. It seems that the Arbiter crashed during an emergency meeting convened in the wake of the players’ defeat.
“This way! There are survivors here!” yelled Tryd, sweeping the throne with his searchlight. The pirate’s assumption had been correct—the Delvian emperor really was alive. A familiar spherical shield—like the one used by the Precian adviser—flickered around him, retaining a massive piece of wreckage and saving the emperor from inevitable death. Brainiac instantly ran an analysis: The shield was actually keeping the entire hall from collapsing, bearing the load of the failing structure. I really didn’t like that second part—the emperor was clearly doomed. We had no means of preventing the collapse ourselves and his majesty’s energy would run out sooner or later anyway. So far we had been in the room for less than a minute and the Delvian Emperor had already swapped out two powercells.
He seemed to say something to us, but sound only traveled through the shield in one direction. And it wasn’t our own. Yet the Delvian refused to resign himself to his fate and nodded meaningfully into the darkness. The spotlight illuminated a pile of rocks. The emperor nodded and began gesturing for us to pick apart the heap. I set the droids to work on it and in short order they recovered Lumara from the collapse. The princess was unconscious but alive. Burned, broken, with a crushed paw, she looked more like a zombie than a living creature. Sebastian rushed to her, activating his armor suit’s first aid unit. The princess’s ragged breathing finally leveled off after he applied some injections and coagulating foam to her wounds.
“She has to be returned to the orbship as soon as possible!” Sebastian cobbled together an improvised stretcher and gently placed the princess on it. “The injections will only suffice for a few minutes!”
“Do it. Snake, see to our patient. Do whatever you have to, to ensure she survives. Tryd, do you understand what the emperor is saying?”
The emperor was babbling excitedly, waving his paws, pointing in one direction and then another. A lot of his gestures were directed at our feet. My lip reading skills aren’t very good to begin with and when the lips to be read belong to an anthropomorphic fox—well, forget it…Luckily, Tryd came to my aid.
“Slow down, Your Highness, and repeat what you’re saying. I could only understand half.”
The emperor repeated his flailing. The pirate only grunted, from time to time trying to scratch his ear. It’s hard to scratch anything in an armor suit, and yet his reflexes insisted on trying. Tryd looked extremely concerned.
“Nod if what I say is accurate. The general idea is: The Zatrathi have destroyed the planetary spirit and removed its binding from all the creatures on the planet. All of the Delvian aristocracy was in this throne room and, instead of being reborn, they have now departed into eternity. Did I understand you correctly?”
The emperor nodded, continuing his story. He was asking us to get Lumara out of here—since she was now the only heir to the throne. Alviaan had been one of many gathered in the hall.
“The princess is safe,” Sebastian returned fairly quickly. “The snake is taking care of her. What should we do?”
“Locate the pedestal and the crystal. We have to take them with us.”
“They are not here,” Tryd translated the words of the emperor. “They have been transferred to a secret treasure vault on one of the outer systems.”
“In that case, I want access codes and coordinates,” I said. “Otherwise, I will leave Lumara here and that’ll be the end of the dynasty. I’m a pirate, not a white knight. My time costs money.”
“We need access codes to Zarvalus too. I need to rescue Filta,” Tryd recalled his mission, forcing the emperor to grin. Due to the armor suit, he had not recognized the pirate, assuming that he was a player. My relations with the emperor immediately collapsed—the Delvian in his bubble let us know what he thought of our demands. The only problem was he had no choice in the matter:
“Brainiac, halt the princess’s treatment. We won’t be taking her with us after all. The emperor does not agree to our terms.”
You should have seen the look on the emperor’s face. His gaze was so withering, so filled with loathing, that I began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Meanwhile, his spherical shield ebbed a few centimeters—the emperor had forgotten to replace his powercell. Dust began to sift down from the ceiling, accompanied by an eerie creaking sound, and I began to think that we had overplayed our hand, but then the Delvian gave up. His daughter’s life was more important to him than access to the treasure vault. The Zatrathi might reach it first anyway.
While Tryd was recording the access codes, I walked around the hall. Leaving unopened loot crates is not how I like to do business. Sebastian pried the surviving paintings from the wall and snatched up the imperial silverware and crockery—anything that could be sold. The droids hauled their loads back and forth, dragging everything back to the cargo holds. I had nothing to brag about. The Delvians who showed up for the emergency meeting had brought nothing: neither money, nor powercells nor raq. There wasn’t so much as a blaster around here. Each crate contained one or two items from the nobles’ wardrobe. Colorful, pompous, but completely useless items of clothing. Sebastian glanced at the clothes and sighed—selling these at a normal price was unlikely.
“The emperor says that he has two powercells remaining,” said Tryd. “We have a minute. After that the entire place will collapse. He is begging us to save his daughter. We have to deliver her to the planet Nadin in Confederate space. There is a Delvian colony on that planet. They will know what to do with her. I have received the access codes and coordinates we need. What are we doing?”
“We’re getting the hell out of here, that’s what!” I ordered and then reassured the emperor: “We will do everything to save Lumara. Sebastian, wrap it up! Leave that tapestry! You won’t get it out in one piece anyway.”
As soon as we returned to the ship, we heard a terrible crash as the passage behind us caved in. The Delvian emperor had ended his in-game existence and joined his fallen subjects.
Mourn oh Delvians! Your emperor has died his final death!
All trade deals with the Delvian Empire are suspended for the duration of the mourning period (30 calendar days). −50% XP gained for all players who belong to the Delvian Empire for the duration of the mourning period (30 calendar days). −1000 Rapport with the Delvian Empire for all players.
If a legitimate heir to the throne does not appear in three days, the Delvian Empire will be dissolved!
“Brainiac, what’s the situation in the system?”
“The Zatrathi are destroying all defenses. Their flying fortresses have taken up positions at the edges of the system and are in complete control of the space between them. We won’t be able to get out unnoticed.”
“Cap’n, we need to get off the planet at least. There are interceptors, scouts and even frigates all over the place. I’ve made sure to save up of course, but we won’t have enough elo for everyone. We should hide ourselves and lie low until the Zatrathi are done here. Surely they’ll move on in a few days.”
My engineer’s arguments made sense, but I had a nagging thought that we were missing something.
“Brainiac, let me see the current Zatrathi deployment in the system.”
Two flying fortress had taken up positions at opposite edges of the system, while a blizzard of red dots scurried around the system in no discernable order. Every so often, a few blue dots would sally from the planets or moons and be instantly smothered by the Zatrathi red ships. The flying fortresses didn’t even have to do anything—the interceptors and frigates handled their jobs easily. I frowned, trying to grasp what struck me as odd about this picture, but the snake was the first to speak up. The engineer’s voice was almost hysterical:
“Cap’n, I take it all back—we need to get out of here this instant! Look at the outermost planet!”
I could understand where the snake was coming from—Larsi’s star system had just lost one of its planets. Granted it was uninhabited and not very large, but the speed with which the Zatrathi turned the giant rock into nothing was frightened. Especially since it wasn’t clear how they did it: There had been neither explosions, nor harvesters. The planet merely lit up, flashed and vanished.
“They have moved on to the next one!” The engineer yelled as another planet began to sparkle. It was several times larger than the previous one, so the invaders had to spend a little more time on it—about ten seconds. We were it next. Brainiac changed the feed—displaying now how all the Zatrathi ships zoomed off from the planet’s surface and fled as far from it as possible. They had done the work of disrupting the evacuation and it was now time to use their weapon of mass destruction.
“Brainiac, emergency blastoff!” I ordered, noticing how the air outside was beginning to sparkle artificially. Even my ship’s hull seemed to be radiating, as if infected by the imminent planetary collapse.
“Cap’n, they’re disrupting the intermolecular bonds!” The engineer sounded aghast at what was happening. “I cannot even imagine how this can be done on a planetary scale. It’s unnatural!”
Brainiac didn’t have to be told twice. The ship’s computer was well aware of the danger and the engines roared to maximum thrust.
“We are being painted with a disruptor beam,” despite the confusion and excitement, the snake went on performing her role. “We are being locked on by EM cannons. Torpedoes straight ahead. Multiple bandits incoming. Our hull’s molecular lattice is stabilizing again.”
The screen went black—the capital of the Delvian Empire disappeared from the face of Galactogon, giving way to the vacuum of space. I abruptly changed course, turning right around 180 degrees—the orbship allowed me to pull of maneuvers like this. The Zatrathi did not expect such agility from us and for several suspenseful seconds no one shot at us. We flew right through the spot where the planet had just been. There wasn’t even any residual radiation remaining—it was like the planet had been transported to another dimension.
“Full throttle, Brainiac!” We had only one way out. To run. To run like we had never run before, squeezing everything there was out of our ship. A dozen plasma beams struck us—the Zatrathi had come to. Yet our shields held, absorbing the damage, while the interceptors circled around, making me anxious. The gunner, who had been ordered to fire at will while still planetside, was trying his best to clear the area around us, but there were simply too many enemies. They flitted all around us, trying to take out our shields with their beam cannons. At least they weren’t equipped with torpedoes and their AI algorithms did not allow them to ram us. Had there been at least one player among the Zatrathi, he would have attempted a head-on collision a long time ago, turning his ship into an improvised torpedo.
