Pangea Online: The Complete Trilogy

by S. L. Rowland

  “What if we could lure them off the wall? All four of them at once.”

  “And how exactly do you plan to do that? It’s not like we have any way of forcing them down.”

  He flashes me a grin. The one I’ve learned to mean he has something up his sleeve.

  Dean pries a pulse grenade from his chest plate. “They aren’t living creatures.”

  “I like the way you think.” I prop my plasma rifle on the floor and dig through one of the crates until I find what I’m looking for. I toss Dean a plasma shotgun and take one for myself. “If we’re smashing spiders, we need power over precision.”

  We go over the plan and once we’re ready, I open the door. Dean activates two pulse grenades and tosses them into the tunnel. They glow a bright blue as they soar through the air.

  Beams blast toward our location once again.

  “Alright, get out and hold on tight,” I order.

  We rush through the door just as the pulse grenade activates and head for cover behind an overturned lift. An errant beam catches me in the shoulder before it’s ripped off its trajectory. I catch a glimpse of the deformed robot spiders as they are pried from the ceiling, pulled by the gravitational force of the pulse grenade. It sucks them in like a vacuum. Sparks fly as lasers cut through pipes and wiring on the ceiling. There’s a loud crash inside the storage room as crates are launched against the wall by the pull of the grenade.

  Dean and I are just out of its range, though I can feel the grenade pulling the shotgun against my grip.

  “Fire!” I shout, and we both pull the trigger.

  A blast of plasma erupts from each of our shotguns, peppering the area with white energy where the spiders are pinned in place by the pull of the grenade. The spiders screech in defiance as their limbs are blown apart. Laser beams shoot out in random directions like some grotesque light show. I charge the blast and fire another one as the pulse grenade explodes, finishing off the spiders.

  Metal legs and shrapnel litter the tunnel. Dean kicks one of the spider’s metal skulls and it skids across the floor, the red eyes fading as its energy source depletes.

  “Good job, Dean.” I extend my fist to him and he returns the gesture. “That’s the kind of thinking that will get us through this challenge.”

  He grins. “I’m just glad I didn’t kill us both.”

  “No risk, no reward.” I wink. “Now, let’s finish up here and get moving.”

  Back inside the storage room, several crates are overturned, spilling their contents against the wall from the pull of the grenade. If not for the wall preventing them from exploding with the grenade, we’d probably be space dust right about now.

  We exchange our shotguns for plasma rifles. While the shotguns came in handy against the robot spiders, the plasma rifles are more practical going forward. They offer better fire rate and more utility. I still think Dean should take the shotgun over the sniper rifle, but it’s his choice.

  Our helmets guide us down the tunnel, through a dimly-lit stairwell, and down more tunnels. Aside from a handful of slimes, we go unmolested for a moment, though the rhythmic tapping of spider legs can be heard on the other side of doors, setting my hair on end. The occasional creature crumples the air ducts that wind like a maze throughout the ship. Each time, we hurry past, careful not to linger in the presence of what may be inside.

  The tunnel ends at a large elevator shaft. According to the map of the ship, it’s going to take us up five floors.

  Dean scans the badge, and we both have our plasma rifles pointed at the elevator door as it opens. The elevator is empty, but its insides are coated with some kind of webbing. Thick ropes of gray material drape like curtains along the walls. It’s almost like a giant cocoon that has been ripped open.

  “I just hope it’s not more spiders.” Dean shakes his head, finally lowering his weapon.

  “I second that.” I fight back the shiver that threatens to weasel through my body.

  Inside the elevator, the webbing is too strong to tear through with my hand, so I use my plasma sword to cut a hole so that we can access the interface. After scanning the card, a touch screen asks for our destination. I input the floor number, and we begin to rise.

  The elevator groans as we slowly ascend. A large thirty-three flashes across the screen, and we come to a jerky halt.

  Something lands on the roof of the elevator with a thud, and I instinctively press the screen to keep the doors closed.

  We rock back and forth as whatever creature wreaks havoc overhead. The cables whine as we’re jostled inside. Dean’s eyes are panicked as he holds on to the webbing for stability. After a moment, the elevator quits rocking, and we sit in silence.

  Dean and I both sigh at the same time. He must notice, too, because our eyes meet and he smiles. Even though we both know whatever creature looms above can’t truly hurt us, the fear of the unknown is still very real. It calls to our primal instincts.

  I reach for the control panel. “Time to find out what abomination is waiting for us on the other side.”

  Dean raises his weapon, and I press the button to open the door.

  Before I even have a chance to raise my own weapon, a giant insect the size of a dog launches through the door. Dean blasts it and green ichor splashes on me, covering my faceguard in a thick layer of guts. I quickly close the door as the dying insect writhes on the floor, its abdomen split in half.

  “Holy…” Deans words drift off.

  The insect’s mandible clenches open and closed before it finally quits moving. Six barbed legs curl up from its upside-down body. A thick black carapace with a green sheen is covered with barbs around the edges and a dangerous ridge running down the center of its back. Lacy transparent wings peek out from underneath the shell.

  I kick the dead bug to the back of the elevator. “Before this thing flew in here, were you able to get a look outside?”

  “Barely. I saw a lot of this webbing stuff. It might be some kind of nest.”

  “Great. We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. We could try to find another way, but based on what we’ve seen so far, we’re screwed no matter where we go.”

  “So what do we do?” Dean crouches and examines our dead friend.

  “We fight our way out and continue on the shortest route possible. At least we know we’re not fighting more enemies than we have to.” I don’t like the thought of fighting our way through a nest of giant space insects, but at least we know what we’re dealing with. “Get ready.”

  Dean raises his plasma rifle, his finger resting on the trigger. This time, when I scan the badge, I rush into position as the door slides open.

  Dean was right, the hallway is filled with the same webbing type material. A buzz fills the space before us as dozens of winged and barbed beetles fly toward us. Our plasma rifles whir to life and beams of hot plasma rip into the swarm. Guts and hollow body parts explode around us, obscuring my vision as my visor is once again coated in a thick layer of green. We’re ankle deep in exoskeleton when I realize there’s no way we’re making it out of here.

  I close the door, but three insects manage to make it inside. Dean shoots them with pinpoint accuracy, and one is severed in half by the closing door. Its head falls to the ground, still clenching its pincers. Several thuds continue to beat against the door as insects crash against the outside.

  I stomp the head of the severed insect before it pinches my boot. “This isn’t going to work. There’s too many of them.”

  I pull up a hologram of the ship and instruct my helmet to reroute us. The map shows a stairwell entrance from the floor below that should reconnect with our original route after bypassing a large section of the tunnel.

  I press the icon, and we slowly descend. When we come to a stop, whatever creature that has set up shop on top of the elevator grows restless again, rocking us back and forth before settling down.

  “What are we doing?” asks Dean.

  “Hopefully finding a safer route. It seems
like the smart option considering what’s waiting upstairs.”

  He nods and raises his weapon, pointing it at the exit. I open the door. An empty hallway greets us, and we both visibly relax. The overhead lighting is dim and flickering, as if this section is running on backup power.

  We exit the elevator cautiously. The hallway may be quiet, but there could be dangers all around us. There are no giant bugs and no killer robots, but something feels off. We turn a corner for the stairwell marked on the map.

  Sparks jump out from an open panel in the wall. A body lies on the ground, long decayed, but it’s evident from the gash in this person’s clothing that they were attacked. The contents of a box of tools lay scattered around the corpse.

  I crouch beside the body and roll it over. A hole runs from their back through their chest.

  “Gored.” I’ve seen enough blood and guts throughout my time in Pangea that the wound doesn’t bother me. The creature that caused it is another story.

  Dean kneels beside me. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t the bug creatures. This was done by some kind of horn or spear, not by a pincer.”

  “You’re right. We should get out of here before it decides to come back.”

  Dean scans his badge to enter the stairwell, but the door doesn’t open. “He must have been trying to repair it.”

  “Wait, try this.” I grab the badge clipped to the repairman’s chest. “Level-ten clearance.”

  Dean swipes the badge, but the door still doesn’t open.

  I take a look at the open panel. A couple of wires appear to have been severed. Thick gashes run through the metal door that covers the compartment. If we can use the tools to reconnect the wires, maybe we can fix the scanner and be on our way.

  A shudder runs through me as I pry the rubber gloves from the corpse’s hands. “Keep an eye out for anything coming down the hallway while I try to get this running.”

  Dean drops to one knee and focuses his attention down the hallway.

  Trying not to think about where the gloves have been, I slip my hands inside. I don’t know much about electrical repair, but this seems simple enough. Something ripped through the wires, so I need to put them back together.

  The sparks are caused by two severed wires that are barely touching one another. I pry them back and the sparks stop. The overhead lights also quit flickering and go to full-backup power, which is much dimmer.

  I search through the contents of the toolbox, finding a pair of pliers with insulated handles, a wire stripper, and a box of plastic connectors that I assume are for pairing the wires together. The wiring is mangled from whatever tore through it, so I use the wire stripper to remove enough of the insulation so that the metal ends can connect to one another.

  Next, I take the two same-colored wires and press them together. The wiring sparks as they touch, and the lights flicker to life overhead. My rubber gloves protect me from any voltage they might produce. I use the pliers to twist the wires together and then place the connector over the exposed wiring.

  Something crashes down the hallway, and Dean stiffens. The lights coming on must have disturbed whatever caused this mess.

  “We’ve got company,” he whispers as thunderous steps echo down the hallway.

  I run the badge over the scanner, but the door doesn’t open. “I need another minute to connect the second set of wires.”

  “Hurry up,” Dean snaps. “I can’t see it yet but it’s coming.”

  I quickly strip the last two wires and press them together. As I’m twisting the wires, Dean has a sharp intake of breath.

  “This is not good.” He says it so low I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or himself.

  I take a quick glance down the hallway just in time to see a massive beast taking up the majority of the tunnel and running toward us. It has a metallic silver body and eyes as red as rubies. Massive hooves thunder against the floor. Its head rocks from side to side, a shimmering horn reminiscent of a rhinoceros swinging like a pendulum.

  As soon as the wires are wrapped, I don’t even think about applying the connectors. I scan the badge and thank my lucky stars when the door opens.

  “Inside, quick!” I pull Dean in behind me as I rush into the stairwell.

  The door shuts moments before the space rhino smashes its horn into it, leaving a dent the size of my body in the metal. My pulse thunders in my ears as I take a step back and lean against the wall.

  “Close call,” I say between breaths. My fingers shake from the adrenaline pumping through my body. Funny how the excitement in my body outside translates in-game.

  “And not a moment too soon.” Dean grins. “That thing would have flattened us for sure.”

  The creature rams into the door again, startling Dean and leaving another giant dent.

  We hurry up the stairwell as the thuds crash against the door below, echoing all around us. We pass exits on each level until we reach the floor marked on the map. There are doors to both sides. The one on the left empties into the web-infested corridor. The one to the right parallels it with several storage rooms and stairwells connecting the two. If we can make it down the hallway to the right, we can reconnect with our original route after bypassing the nest.

  On full guard, we exit the door to the right. It’s void of killer insects and stampeding rhinos. Empty carts litter the hallway. They aren’t overturned or otherwise molested, just parked aimlessly. Even though it seems safe, I refuse to let my guard down. Dean and I keep our weapons raised as we hurry down the hallway, scanning entry into a storage unit.

  Without waiting, Dean immediately starts opening the crates.

  “Nice.” He moves on the next one. “Nice!” He closes the lid and moves to another. “NICE! Esil, we just hit the motherload!”

  “What are you talking about?” We’ve barely gone through any of our grenades and are well-kitted with the weapons we have now. I lift the lid and immediately see what he is talking about.

  Weapon. Plasma Minigun.

  Only two of the miniguns fit inside the crate. Long slate-gray cylinders poke out of what looks like a miniature jet engine. There’s a handle on top and a trigger mechanism at the rear. The portable turret looks like it could wreak devastation on anything in its path.

  Even though it’s powerful, the weapon is way too cumbersome and would only be practical against an unintelligent horde.

  The second crate only has one weapon inside. It’s bigger than the minigun and has a base for mounting.

  Weapon. Plasma Turret.

  The turret is even better than the minigun for stationary fighting because it can turn on a swivel, and due to not having to carry the weight of the weapon, it can be more precise and easily maneuvered.

  The final crate is filled with weapons no one would ever use on a spaceship.

  Weapon. Missile Launcher.

  Several long cylinders are packed to one side. Each one is mounted with a digital display for tracking enemy movement. Half a dozen rockets are placed vertically in foam. These are clearly designed for targeting aircraft or vehicles, not for fighting in close combat on a spaceship. One of these could probably rip a hole in the hull.

  I close the lid and turn back to Dean, who has pulled the turret base from the crate and is trying unsuccessfully to lift the turret itself.

  “What do you have in mind?” I have an idea of what he’s planning, but I want to let him formulate it himself before I offer any input. I reach into the crate and grab the other side of the turret, helping Dean mount it on the base.

  “I think the turret is our answer to clearing the hallway.” He checks the clamps on the base and moves the turret back and forth on the swivel. “If we position it in front of the door then we’ll be able to rip through the swarm as they come in. One of us can stand behind and take out any stragglers that might slip through.”

  “What about the other weapons?”

  He shakes his head. “The minigun is too bulky. If one of us got swarmed, then we’d be dead we
ight. With the turret, it’s easy to abandon if we have to. And the rockets are just as likely to blow us up as they are the insects. What do you think?” He looks at me expectantly.

  “Sounds like a mighty fine plan to me. So, who’s taking the turret?”

  He grins. “I really want to let this baby sing.”

  I laugh. “Go for it.” I equip my plasma sword. “I’ll handle anything that makes it past you.”

  We slide the turret to where it’s positioned directly across from the door and move the rest of the crates against the far wall. It’s about to be open season on anything that steps inside. Dean takes position behind the turret. One hand rests on the trigger and the other on a handle for aiming. A digital sight sits on top of the turret for advanced aiming.

  “Are you ready?” I ask.

  Dean nods, and I scan the badge. The door slides open with a whoosh and for a moment there is nothing but silence. I activate the blade on my plasma sword and take my position to the right of Dean. I’m strictly support in this scenario. If anything makes it past the turret, I’ll slice and dice it.

  A faint buzz comes from down the hall, growing louder by the second. All of the insects must have been waiting outside of the elevator shaft expecting us to return.

  Before they even enter the room, Dean already has the turret whirring to life. After a second, the turbine emits a bright glow and I’m forced to look away. As the turbine spins, it spits out beams of plasma in a cylindrical pattern. At full speed, the beams look like a continuous stream of glowing white energy.

  The first insects to enter the doorframe are obliterated instantly. Flakes of shell flutter through the air like ash on a windy day.

  The turret lets out a dull whine as it sprays plasma like a water hose. Dozens of insects die in a flash, vaporized by the steady beam. I’m sure that even if they wanted to turn away, the brightness of the plasma draws them in like moths to a flame.

  One insect flops to the floor, its body severed in half by the turret. It crawls forward on its two remaining legs, pincers grasping. The tips of its wings were also incinerated, making it impossible to fly. I stab it in the head just as another half-incinerated beetle clanks against my helmet.