The impact threw him back like a bloodied rag doll. This sentient xenomorph barely had enough Health to last him a couple of hits.
A Wearong was the next to arrive on the scene. Paying no heed to me, it began tossing debris out of its way with its muscular boneless tentacles. Then it withdrew into the safety of its shell, rose into the air and headed for the drones.
I jumped up. The situation was now completely out of my control. The location had proven lethal. More Kamresh were now crawling out of their holes, their appearance both revolting and terrifying. I'd seen their images before but reality proved by far the more disgusting. Their numerous wounds seeped slime. I could tell by the miserable remains of their gear and leftover devices that they'd come here driven by their pursuit of loot and xp only to become prisoners of the wretched ruins. Time after time they died, killed by the mobs, radiation and the mysterious energy surges while the game engine kept bringing them back to life, destroying their minds and gradually turning them into these ravenous insatiable creatures devoid of identity and driven by instinct alone.
All this flashed through my mind in a tangle of disjointed thoughts.
My health bar had already sagged quite a bit with all the radiation I'd received. All escape routes had been cut off. The time was probably right to follow up on Liori's advice but by then, my mind had gone into shock as the Kamresh jumped onto the Dargian's body and began tearing it apart, gulping down pieces of flesh.
As I checked their stats, I realized that probably a respawn wasn't such a good option. All of them were marked as players which meant that in the case of my death, my avatar would have to stay here for another ten minutes — which, if the Phantom Server Wiki was to be believed, allowed the players to exercise their right to collect loot.
The game engine knew no exceptions. It didn't care that these creatures had long since lost their minds and identities.
They would devour my body and vandalize my gear, destroying the ingredients I'd obtained so painstakingly. Then I'd find myself back at Founders Square — unarmed and destitute.
No way.
An explosion blasted overhead. The drones proved worthy of the location. The Wearong hadn't lasted a minute against them. A piece of his legendary impervious shell tumbled to the floor next to me, splattering everything around with a kind of gooey jelly.
Finally, the target recognition system identified the drones. Their elliptical bodies and weapons configuration (one ranging pulse gun and two lasers in their armor's side mounts) betrayed their origins from the Founders era.
I pinned the nearest Kamresh down with a short burst from my gun and darted toward the ruins. I simply had no other option.
A couple of xenomorphs chased after me while the rest went for each other, fighting over the loot.
* * *
I ran desperately, climbing the piled debris with only one thought in mind: to find a good firing position. I'd already cleared the skeletal structure of the destroyed transport hub and ran out onto a relatively flat platform not far from the hangars.
I cast a hurried glance around, noticing two intact bulkheads and a fragment of the ceiling: all that was left of a living module. Debris barricaded the approaches to it. Just what I needed.
I darted toward it.
Now that I had steel walls covering my back, I didn't have to fear an attack from the rear. I raised my gun and took aim.
The Kamresh were near. Those were some dangerous beasts, swift and revolting. Their natural armor was light brown with small darkish spots, their front legs ending in jagged pincers that could easily nip through steel bars. Their mandibles looked impressive, too. I'd seen them rip the Dargian apart, gear and all.
Whatever I did, I shouldn't let them get close.
I fired in short bursts, aiming at the face of one of them. A glittering aura enveloped him, then disappeared. Pieces of his shell flew everywhere. A hellish scream hung in the air.
A second one came for me. I put ten rounds through him but they failed to stop him. The same glittering aura lit up and went out again. With a powerful sweep of his arm, he brushed away the debris I was hiding in. The creature's enormous pincer barely missed my head. I recoiled just in time.
No idea how it might have ended had it not been for the drones. They'd already finished off the remaining xenomorphs and turned to us, attracted by the firing.
I'd jolted my shoulder as I fell but immediately jumped back to my feet. The nearest Kamresh was obstructing my field of vision. His gigantic mandibles screeched, dropping viscous saliva. A shot, a flare, another shot... all pointless. He had one hell of a power shield.
I glimpsed the blurred outlines of some ancient mechanisms which approached from all directions, attacking us.
The nearest Kamresh was sliced and diced before he knew it. He collapsed over me, pinning me down with his body. Then everything dissolved in a thunderous cacophony as yet more blasts rose in a wall of fire, tearing apart one of the bulkheads.
I froze in disbelief that I was still alive. I could hear red-hot fragments of metal clanging on the floor. The Kamresh' stinking body, sliced by the laser charges, towered on top of me.
I didn't see the drones any more. The air was thick with smoke. An outline of some technological artifact pulsated in front of my mental eye: this Kamresh wore some kind of an ammo belt with lots of diamond-shaped pouches. I pulled it off his dead body and shoved it down my inventory. I had no time to look into it. All I cared about at the moment was getting back safe.
* * *
The mobs were lingering in the back. They'd split into groups controlling the elevator access.
The hull of the nearest airspace fighter gleamed within the hangar nearby. It looked brand new, seemingly defying time and circumstance as it rose amid desolation.
How could I resist the temptation?
Radiation warning! Your radiation exposure is 70% lethal.
I dashed toward the hangar in short bursts between any cover I could find. Who knows when I might get another chance to come back here? Now the unique relic ship was within arm's reach!
The hangar was empty and spacious, its floor littered with broken plastic. Several network consoles and repair terminals towered up — I knew what they were because I'd seen them in the Wiki already and all the information I read online was automatically uploaded to my account. Excellent system, by the way.
Some of the objects lying amid the debris were highlighted automatically — but unfortunately, all of them were beyond repair. Then again, I didn't allow any of them to distract me. Any part of the ancient ship that the current gravity reading would allow me to carry was worth risking my life to get.
You won't believe my disappointment. As I got closer, I discovered that all of the ship's hatches gaped open, darkness lurking behind them. A bad premonition grew stronger with my every step. The craft lay on its belly. Fearlessly I climbed inside, finding myself within its hollow, echoing hull. Not a single device in sight!
As if on cue, fatigue and nausea overtook me. I cast another look around, fighting off disappointment, but there was nothing valuable here apart from the cargonite hull itself. Shame I didn't have anything with me to nibble a few bits off!
I crouched, catching my breath, and cast another glance at the Kamresh's weird belt. I turned it over in my hands this way and that, noticing a few micro nuclear battery slots, but chose not to experiment and shoved it back down my inventory.
I mustered up some strength and climbed up the ship's wall using a few of my gear's devices, skidding through a narrow hatchway into the cockpit. Here too everything had been stripped out. The cockpit's thick armored walls were studded with holes of various shapes and sizes which must have held control panels and navigational devices.
I peered out through one of the holes. The drones still hovered nearby. There was little chance of getting past them unnoticed.
My life bar glowed orange. The target recognition system kicked in, zooming in on the outlines of the ancie
nt cyber modules and highlighting the abundant damage to their bodies.
Should I risk it? Why not? This way I could at least make another level. I wasn't going to get out of here anyway. My radiation exposure approached lethal levels.
Overcoming the growing nausea, I changed my weapon and crouched next to a vertical gunslit.
My hands were shaking. My dry mouth tasted foul. I didn't want to use the expensive life support cartridges. Pointless. I might not be able to destroy all ten of the drones but at least I'd shoot down a few.
A daring leveling plan started to form in my head. What if I tried to find the docking area outside this deck and moor Charon's ship there? That might be interesting. I'd have to give it some thought.
I took careful aim and gently squeezed the trigger.
A flash. A shimmering golden aura enveloped me. The drone went down in a cloud of smoke as a message popped up before my eyes,
You've dealt critical damage!
You've received a new level!
I bet! Excitement surged over me, wiping away the weakness.
Another flash.
Missed! The bastard was still alive, but his laser guns were gone in a hail of fire. I took aim again. Got him!
Now the Founders' machines noticed me and hurried toward the hangar, firing back.
The spaceship's hull reverberated with all the hits. I had barely shrunk back from my impromptu gunslit when several laser charges went right through it and sliced through the cockpit, leaving red-hot traces on the wall opposite.
This cargonite was amazingly sturdy stuff. Those charges would have gone right through any other alloy but this one was still holding. Risky thoughts began flashing through my head. I had to come back here with Charon — in his ship. I'd love to know if we'd be able to tow this empty shell away somewhere? What if we could use it to build a spaceship? And to analyze the alloy from which it was made?
I had barely changed my sniper's rifle to the submachine gun when the first drone barged into the cramped space of the cockpit. No way you could miss there. Impulsively I showered it with long bursts of fire until you couldn't see the drone through the incessant flashes. I too was in trouble though: on hitting cargonite, bullets turned into clots of plasma. The cockpit filled with incandescent gas. The gun stopped working.
That was it. Nothing could save me from a respawn now.
Or so I thought. My gear began melting, triggering the armor's security.
Shield belt: equipped!
Micro nuclear batteries: equipped!
The haze around me cleared, filling with fresh air within the radius of an arm's length from me as if I'd suddenly found myself at the center of a large iridescent soap bubble.
A power shield?
I remembered a similar aura that had protected the Kamresh.
How cool was that?
The drones didn't seem in a hurry to attack. The incandescent gas was being rapidly sucked out of the cockpit into the rest of the ship. I heard resonating clashes as if the Founders' machines had suddenly lost their sense of direction and were now thrashing about, hitting the walls.
You've received a new level!
You've received an ability: Robot Technician. You've destroyed five of the Founders' cyber mechanisms without dying once. From now on, the damage you deal to any machines using firearms will increase 5%.
I heard more clashing sounds followed by an explosion. The drones were indeed old. The incandescent gas that had formed as a result of my desperate firing had gotten inside them, damaging their control circuits.
You've received a new level!
You've received an ability: Robot Technician II! You've destroyed ten of the Founders' cyber mechanisms without dying once. From now on, the damage you deal to any machines using firearms will increase 10%.
My life bar was hovering in the red zone. I could barely move: the radiation sickness hadn't gone anywhere, but I couldn't just let the Founders' machines lie around next door. I had to see what kind of loot they had for me.
On my command, needles sunk into my neck.
Stimulants and anti-radiation drugs administered.
My head cleared; the agonizing joint pain began to abate.
* * *
When I finally left the spaceship, I had two microchips and five "cyber ingredients" stashed away in my inventory — loot from the slain enemy.
My power shield glimmered softly. Things were looking up. I was slightly feverish from the bumper dose of anti-radiation drugs and combat metabolites.
True, my success had had a lot to do with beginner's luck and adrenaline drive. Still you had to agree that this leveling scenario was much better than run-of-the-mill farming.
My life bar had grown a lot and was now staying at eighty percent.
My sensations were incredible. The Phantom Server world was sucking me in, consuming my mind. I knew too little about it yet but one thing I did know: I wasn't going to get bored here.
I cast a wary glance around. I had to go. I'd made three levels and found lots of techno artifacts including one unique device. Time to get going.
But I couldn't. Too many ideas crowded my head. I peered at the beams overhead repeating the branch-offs of the transport hub. It looked safe enough, rising high above the ruins of the hangars, above all the collapsed bulkheads and the docking pads.
Such a shame my submachine gun didn't work. I couldn't fix it here but I still had the handgun, plus the sniper's rifle and the power shield. Now that I'd killed all the drones, I had to try and climb up the beams. I had no idea of the mobs' respawn times but I might have another hour or two.
Yes, that was it: I had to climb high and make a few screenshots so that I could analyze them later and hopefully come up with some sort of strategy.
I cut my reverie short and dropped to my back as a laser charge impacted a few feet away from me, triggering my power shield.
Oh wow.
The air around me began to shimmer in ghostly sheets of light, glowing with radiation — but my gear sensors still hovered in the yellow zone.
I froze. It wasn't even my shield's prompt work but its adaptability that pleased me the most. I checked its settings. I was right: I could see several new options there.
I'd never seen these icons before. The semantic processor tried and failed to translate them. All it could come up with was, A technological artifact. Circa the Founders' era. Language recognition requires installation of a dedicated database.
Very well. Let's do it another way. I rose and reached out, immersing my hand into the shimmering glow.
The shield upped its shine but the sensors' readings stayed in the yellow zone. Excellent. I noticed two more option icons — or rather sliders. I focused on one, trying to move it. The shield began to billow out. Okay. So it could be maxed out to ten feet.
That was all well and good but the power consumption had grown respectively. Which wasn't so good after all. And how was I supposed to touch anything? What if I needed to pick something up?
This wasn't the best time to experiment but then again, the drones had done a good job of mopping the place up. It looked as if I was relatively safe for a short while at least.
The thought made me chuckle. Man can get used to anything indeed. This place was death incarnate — and still...
Never mind. I had other things to do. What about that second icon?
Gingerly I moved the slider. The shield power control? Excellent. Just what I needed.
I began to gradually lower the power, keeping an eye on the life support readings. There! I seemed to have found the minimum levels of the shield's hazard-neutralizing properties.
My throat spasmed with nausea. The medication had slightly lowered the exposure dose. I wasn't going to die any more but I still felt like shit.
I went on studying the shield's properties. How was I supposed to touch things? I lowered power to the minimum and reached down, picking up a piece of debris. It worked! The item wasn't damaged by the shield.<
br />
And what if I tried to grab it? To imitate an assault attempt?
I made a rapid movement to try to grab a bent piece of metal. The shield ballooned up. The metal fragment glowed with heat.
Okay. I looked around, searching for the nearest scalable bulkhead and gingerly began climbing it.
* * *
The power shield surprised me once again by switching off automatically once danger levels had dropped.
That really scared me at first as I thought it must have broken down or that maybe the batteries were already dead. But no — the moment I approached another radiation source, the shimmering aura enveloped me once again.
Knowing this was worth all the trouble. Now I had some idea of the artifact's unique properties.
In the meantime, the life support gave me a few more injections. By then, I'd already climbed up and was lying on top of a wide beam, looking around. Some distance away lay a huge transport junction, visible by the regular flashes of energy emissions.
I took a few screenshots, then used my sniper sights to zoom in on the ruins. My first impression had been correct: the deck was part of the ship's docking facilities. I counted nine ships: five definitely fighters while the four remaining larger ones must have been cargo craft. They probably contained cargonite worth millions.
Wait up, I told myself. You can't be the only smart one around. Now why wouldn't anyone have thought of getting in here via the outside docking area?
Gradually I moved forward, keeping my eyes fixed on the junction. I'd love to know what it was over there and what was causing those flaring emissions.
I was gasping for breath. All my muscles shook with fatigue. Ruins lay below. I looked up. Judging by the damage, the ceiling must at some point have been molten, then frozen in circular waves scarred in places by deep slicing cuts.
Whatever had happened here? A technological disaster?
Edge of Reality (Phantom Server: Book #1) Page 14