Star Nova Online

by Noah Barnett

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE Day One - Login

  CHAPTER TWO Ship Intro

  CHAPTER THREE Day Two - Sim

  CHAPTER FOUR Day Three - The Roth

  CHAPTER FIVE Lunch

  CHAPTER SIX Day Four - Flight Lead

  CHAPTER SEVEN Day Five - Better

  CHAPTER EIGHT Day Six - Relax

  CHAPTER NINE Battle over Earth

  CHAPTER TEN Epilogue

  CHAPTER ONE

  Day One - Login

  Loading Star Nova Online_Closed Beta…

  Logging into private test server…

  A ball of cells divided in a headlong bid for life, a human body taking shape within the tank of blue-green amniotic fluid. It was male and around thirty years of age, with a lean, athletic body of about average height, currently half-curled into the fetal position. A mop of short brown hair grew from its scalp, and its eyelids fluttered open, revealing brown eyes flecked with green and gray. A white scar marked its right brow, mirroring Charlie’s own. Really, they could have been twins, if one ignored his many real-life imperfections.

  Finally, an opaque menu appeared on the glass tube. "Would you like to make any character changes?"

  Charlie was bringing his character over from Gun Meister Online—a game also made by Skybot Studios. They obviously shared database information and its appearance was the same, so he selected ‘NO.’ A familiar stat window appeared next, though most of the entries had been reset. His hours played, his kills and his deaths were all set to zero, but at least his credits had transferred over.

  _____________

  Player ID - NA1339872

  Registered Name - Charlie

  Race - Human

  Hours played - 0

  [Strength - ΦΦ.]

  [Agility - ΦΦΦ.]

  [Endurance - ΦΦΦ.]

  Corporation - None

  Title - None

  Reputation - [0]

  Bounty - [None]

  Kills - 0

  Deaths - 0

  K/D Ratio - 0

  Hunger - [Full]

  Thirst - [Satiated]

  Clone Location - [Lunar Base Sigma-Fi]

  Credits - 260482c

  _____________

  Again, Charlie was asked if he wanted to make any changes, but he wasn't sure how his character stats would be used in Star Nova. Strength was only good for increasing carrying capacity, while Agility affected one's movement speed and Endurance boosted health and stamina pools. All were necessary in a first-person shooter, but this was space. His stats would do him little good inside a ship.

  Then again, his strength would affect his character’s physical build, with a higher score increasing his size and muscle mass. Other than that, it didn't seem very important, so he decided to just keep his stats the same.

  His vision shifted inward toward the floating man, followed by a moment of darkness. He blinked, then straightened as blue-green liquid began to drain through a vent in the floor. As it passed over his head, he coughed violently and spat the green slime from his mouth. When the tank was empty, the glass doors opened, exposing him to the cold air.

  The enormous room in which he stood was made of gray concrete, and long fluorescent tubes embedded in the ceiling flooded the space with a harsh, artificial white light. Fifty cloning vats filled one side of the room, each one with a humanoid shape floating inside.

  Charlie stepped out and immediately discovered the difference in gravity. Here on the moon, he only weighed one-sixth as much, and he glided easily down the metal incline. A rubber mat at the bottom kept him from slipping and making a fool of himself.

  A young woman in a white medical uniform waited with a tablet. Her short red hair was pinned to one side and a small beauty mark decorated the left side of her chin. After tapping the tablet twice, she looked up.

  "The transfer from Earth-side can be a little jarring. I'm here if you have any questions or feel any side effects."

  "The stats looked different than they did in Gun Meister. And some of my character traits appear to be missing?"

  "Gun Meister used matches, and there’s no such thing in Star Nova,” the nurse explained, turning the tablet around. “Certain stats like wins and losses are no longer tracked. You also have an asset list associated with your character."

  Looking at the screen, Charlie could see his character information, which was displayed with an extra tab.

  _____________

  Vehicles - [None]

  Weapons:

  Earth Surface [Spaceport Storage]:

  Customized M16A1 - ID [WM16A1_284092]

  Customized 1911 - ID [W1911_563948]

  Factory Default SVD with PSO-Scope - ID [WSVD_3847292]

  Factory Default Thompson Center Machine Guns - ID [WTMG_249201]

  Factory Default Thompson Center Machine Guns - ID [WTMG_249202]

  Armor:

  Mars’ Surface:

  Mark-One Power Armor - ID [M1PA01928] - [Lost]

  ____________

  "I have Power Armor?"

  "Technically, everyone was given the Mark-One for the last event in Gun Meister, but you won't be able to keep it. If an item is lost and not recovered, it is permanently deleted."

  Charlie frowned. "Why is that?"

  "Imagine what would happen after five or six years. The game would slow to a crawl trying to track every bullet, missile, or shipwreck in space. If the item hasn't been discovered after thirty days, it gets deleted, which cleans up the system and keeps things running smoothly."

  She tapped the tablet, pulling up an inventory list.

  "The list will tell you where your items are located, but only properties, vehicles, armor, and weapons are tracked. Small items like clothes and accessories disappear much more quickly outside a safezone." The mention of clothing reminded him he was still nude.

  "Where do I shower and dress?"

  "The amenities here on lunar base are somewhat primitive," the nurse warned, pointing past him to the other side of the room, where more players were stepping from their vat tubes and being directed toward a communal shower. About a hundred people were standing under the many shower heads, trying to scrub off the cloning slime.

  "Thanks," he replied, turning toward the showers.

  Men and women showered next to each other in the communal space, and Charlie recognized a tiny figure washing her long teal hair in the line of bathers. At only four feet six inches tall, she appeared more like a fourteen-year-old than an adult. But Charlie knew the perverted individual riding that character, and she was about as far from a child as one could get. He stepped up beside her and pushed the button on the wall.

  "Remy, you came," he said as the shower came on.

  "I'm already regretting my decision." She dunked her soapy hair under the spray of hot water.

  "Space is much more interesting than just running matches on earth."

  "I'd agree, except that my account was flagged, so I couldn't bring Philip or Missy with me." She puffed out her cheeks like a petulant child. As they talked, several more people stepped into the shower nearby.

  "Flagged?! I'm shocked. You're a model player."

  "Oh, shut up!"

  The retort was accompanied by a quick punch to his side. Charlie grunted, feigning injury before smiling good-naturedly. He grabbed a bar of pumice soap, starting to rid himself of the slime covering his body. As the goop washed free, he turned to the short woman with another question.

  "So, what are you going to do?"

  "I'll just have to screw up the next NPC they give me."

  "Have you considered acting—normal?"

  Remy rolled her eyes. "It's a game… I don't see why I can't enjoy myself."

  Finished, she lo
oked past Charlie toward a heavily-tattooed player who was just stepping into the baths, licking her lips.

  "It's not that you can't have fun, or enjoy yourself. It's your methods—" Remy ignored him, walking past him to stand under the shower spray with the tattooed bather, who looked down in surprise. She reached up, taking the pumice bar from him, and purposely let it fall to the tiles.

  "Oops, I dropped the soap," she said in a high, coquettish voice, then turned, bent over, and picked it up--slowly.

  Charlie slapped the shower controls, the water dribbling to a stop. His hair still felt a little slimy, but he exited the bath anyway. Remy was a skilled player, he couldn't argue with that, but her antics could get tiresome. The last time she’d been around so many players she'd started a fourteen-hour space orgy, and he did not want to watch what was surely about to transpire.

  There were racks of folded towels set out for the players, so he used one to dry himself off, then wrapped another around his waist. Finally, he pushed into the male locker room and was greeted with a familiar sight and smell. Metal lockers lined the room in several rows, the changing room filled with the pungent aroma of industrial detergent. A long bench ran down the middle of each set of lockers, and other players were there already, getting dressed.

  Several rows down, Charlie caught sight of another figure from their group of misfits. He was seven-and-a-half feet tall, with brown peach fuzz for hair. Countless religious sigils were carved across his chest and back, and another long scar ran from his mouth down to his chin. He looked more like a fantasy hero than someone who played with guns. At the moment, he was sitting in front of an open locker, struggling with a tight-fitting jumpsuit.

  "Tobias, at least someone with a small measure of sanity left is here," Charlie grinned, stepping closer to his squad mate. The locker next to Tobias was closed, so he put his palm to the screen and it popped open, revealing a hanging suit. It looked similar to a fighter pilot’s one-piece uniform.

  "Brother Charlie, you refer to the Sinner?" Tobias asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "I dislike her. She is unclean."

  Charlie laughed. He pulled out the gray-and-white flight suit, double-checking the tag to make sure it was medium size. "You annoy her too, which is a good thing. It keeps her in line." He sat down on the bench and turned the jumpsuit around. It had a strange, interlocking zipper that began at the high-necked collar and ran all the way to the crotch.

  Tobias continued tugging the thin synthetic fabric over his massive legs. "Hast thou seen Jennifer yet?"

  Charlie let out a long, low sigh. "I wish you luck, but I gotta admit, Jen is as aloof as a cat and about as loyal. To answer your question, no, she's not logged in yet. Last I saw, she was getting dragged into a dark room by her four boy-toys. She's probably still… saying goodbye." Tobias avoided his gaze, concentrating on the flight suit he was still struggling with.

  "I see."

  "Jen’s a flesh-and-blood girl, and you can't beat that, but there is Gadreel to consider," Charlie reminded him.

  Tobias immediately brightened. His white-haired angel would hopefully help to salve over his impending rejection. Everyone coming in from Gun Meister was bringing a companion. Well, everyone except Remy, apparently. Just before joining the Star Nova Beta, Charlie had been forced to choose one of his many weapons to bring - it had been one of the hardest decisions of his life.

  While Tobias pondered his relationship problems, Charlie began pulling on his own uniform. The feet had thin soles like indoor slippers, and the fabric clung as he worked it up his legs.

  "This accursed suit is too small," Tobias growled, yanking his feet from the jumpsuit. He stood and threw it into an open locker, then turned and stomped back into the cloning chamber. All of the flight suits were meant to be tight, but even so, Charlie only just barely managed to work his ass into the pants section. He stood and forced his arms into the long sleeves. It felt weird dragging the zipper up his stomach and past his chest to the high collar.

  "Tobias is right, I feel ridiculous in this thing," he groaned to himself, turning to a nearby mirror. He was a lean man, but the flight suit still hugged every contour of his body like spray-on latex. The inside felt like silk, but the outer fabric was a synthetic Kevlar weave. Several other players were doing jumping jacks or stretching in place, and Charlie joined them. He felt stupid doing it, but after a minute the fabric settled over him like a second skin.

  He followed a small troupe of players as they left the locker room, exiting into a gray concrete hallway, the floor marked by dashed lines. Women were coming out of another doorway nearby, and he paused to admire their flight suits and the effect the lack of gravity had on their bodies.

  Damn, that looks good on them, he thought.

  A black and white line disappeared down a nearby hallway and most everyone was headed in that direction. Several rooms had been left open, the crowd forming three sloppy queues.

  Soon, a cloning laboratory became visible through a glass window, and he caught sight of Montgomery. The man was a digital ghost within the game, appearing as a twenty-five-year-old man with dark brown hair and a thick goatee. He was busy talking to a man in a black and gold uniform, while behind him a woman was blushing furiously and trying to hide herself from view. She wore the same tight-fitting gray jumpsuit as the others, but had coiffed her hair into a complex set of Victorian curls.

  "We at SkyBot Studios want to thank you for joining our Beta," the officer said, holding out a hand. Monty shook it like the gentleman he was. "Several of our developers are digital citizens. Avatar 2.0 was a great advance in encrypting memories, but we've gone to great lengths to ensure your safety. I just wanted to reassure you of that."

  "Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here, and I am most grateful that you were able to transfer Grace over."

  "Nothing in Gun Meister or Star Nova can detrimentally affect an NPC's personal file-share. She is as protected from corruption as yourself."

  "I beg to differ about my impending corruption,” Grace interrupted, her voice heated. “Can we please put some proper clothing on? I might as well be naked."

  The officer in black laughed. "We can see about finding something more suitable, but during combat simulations you'll have to wear the flight suit. Let me give you my contact information. If you have any suggestions or need anything during the test, please message me. Star Nova aims to be more than a game. We want it to be a living, breathing universe, and I would be very interested in your input." He removed a black card from inside his jacket and handed it to Monty.

  "Thank you for your consideration, and I shall indeed be in touch," Monty replied, slipping the card into a tiny pocket on his chest. He extended his hand to the man, and they shook.

  The officer must have been an administrator because he took out a small device and aimed it at the wall. A blob of blue light struck the concrete, creating a man-sized oval portal. Before stepping through, he paused and turned to the couple. "You are the first Digital Citizen to take part in this new universe. Star Nova was created with the future in mind, and I hope that you enjoy your stay."

  "I am already as pleased as any man can be. I am alive and in the company of a singularly amazing woman," Monty smiled, patting Grace's hand. The administrator smiled again and stepped into the blue circle, disappearing from sight. Grace wrapped her arms around Monty's waist, kissing his cheek despite the crowd watching.

  "Well, color my kittens, I'm glad to see you made it into Beta!" Charlie shouted. Grace jumped in surprise, hiding behind Monty. "You got a phone line straight to God! It pays to be dead."

  "The lack of cancerous pain is most welcome, but I am discovering that there are many other perks to being an Avatar," Monty said, turning with a wide, generous smile. He bounded over in two low glides, Grace clinging to his back, and they shook hands firmly.

  "Monty, it's nice to see you. Grace, you too."

  "I'm happy to see you as well, but you're still a lascivious devil," Grace replied in her
cultured Southern accent. "You brought Elva with you?"

  "Yes, I did. What should I expect?" Charlie asked, nodding toward the cloning lab.

  "Not much to say. They cloned Grace in a little over a minute, then ran some tests. Everything after that was the same. They did mention an orientation of sorts, so I suppose we’ll hear more soon." Monty lifted his hand in a quick wave, and the two vanished down the hallway as the line into the laboratory slowly inched forward.

  The science lab was awash in white plastic, the floor a rubberized black tile. After what felt like an age, Charlie came to the head of the line. Before him were a dozen vat baths, and as he watched, a slime-covered girl climbed free from one. She and a player hugged briefly before walking toward the rear of the room, a small circular robot following after and cleaning up the slimy footprints the girl left behind her.

  "I can help the next person in line," the technician called in a thick Chinese accent.