by Dean Henegar
The notification for the completion of his rat research caught his attention. Before he tested out the upgraded rats, he decided to hit natural weapons as his next lab research project. The information tab said “unlocked” and Slater assumed he was researching a level 0 version of that ability. The research was clicking faster than the rat research, so he would find out soon. Moving his point of view down into the lab, he tried to print a pair of level 1 rats, but the drones refused the order, as he had zero available power. After scrapping the two pairs of rats in his cargo hold—a messy process that recovered all the biomass—he had new ones printed up in the testing room. A pair of level 0 and level 1 rats were created. The level 1 rats looked nearly the same as their level 0 counterparts—perhaps a bit larger, more muscular, and better-fed than their lower-level brethren.
Lacking any good music to accompany a gladiator match, Slater ordered the pairs to fight, having each high-level rat pick a level 0 rat to square off against. The rats attacked without fear, tearing into each other with gusto. It looked like a swirling ball of fur and teeth, each rat trying to gain an advantage on its foe in order to land a deadly bite with its powerful teeth. As the fight continued, all the rats acquired wounds, but the larger size and strength of the level 1 rats became apparent. Gaining leverage, the large rats forced their smaller kin to the floor, finishing the fight with rapid bites to the necks of their opponents.
One of the victors died just moments after its victim, bleeding out from all the small bites it had acquired. The last remaining rat was also pretty banged up, so Slater ordered all the rats in the testing room to be reprocessed. The reprocessing returned all the biomass, the nanobots and drones not missing a single drop of the gore strewn about the area. The level 1 rats were better. It wasn’t a huge increase, but anything that made them more formidable was a good thing as far as Slater was concerned. He had the drones begin reprocessing all the level 0 rats and replace them with level 1 versions. It would take a while since he only had four drones tasked with working on it; the last drone was still safely stashed away in the wall of his core room. Slater would have to remember to expand his drone fleet once he leveled up again.
By the time his rats were upgraded to the newer version, the research on hatches was complete. The only items still at level 0 were crushing melee weapons and firearms. Thinking that firearms research might be a long slog until he had something to compete with his lasers, Slater dumped the freed-up research node into crushing weapons to see what that would reveal.
The hatch upgrade was nothing spectacular. He could now set the resistance level in the hatch wheels. He could have each hatch be easy to open or take longer as the wheel resisted the boarders’ efforts to open it. He set the hatches leading into his core room and the bridge as hard to open, making it as difficult as possible for anyone progressing that far.
Jumping back into his engineering station, Slater performed an experiment he had been eager to try. After checking that the hatch to the garbage room was sealed on either side, he ordered his nanobots to create a tiny opening in the hull of the derelict. His idea was that, in an emergency, he could crack open a compartment and have the attacker sucked out into the void of space. Unfortunately, the nanobots were hard-programmed to prevent hull breaches, even when ordered to do so by their derelict core.
Incoming transmission. Answer the hail: y/n?
Slater was shocked. Someone had heard him—and heard him so soon after he transmitted. He moved to the comm array, looking to see if his nanobots had detected any ships. His admittedly short-ranged scan showed nothing nearby, but there was definitely someone on the comm line. He accepted the transmission and data spewed out. Whoever was on the other line was not speaking and instead sending text in the same code he had used.
“Is this really the Franklin? I thought you were destroyed in the blast. Please respond.”
The message was sent with the proper encryption codes, surprising Slater. Whoever was communicating with him was a member of the United States Navy. Slater sent a reply, identifying himself and confirming he was aboard what was left of the Franklin. He requested to know who he was communicating with, then waited impatiently for the reply. In the meantime, he crafted a log of everything that had occurred in the battle and his subsequent transformation into a derelict, leaving nothing out and requesting help. He finished the log and saved it to memory just before a reply to his last response came in.
“I can confirm you are Captain Slater of the Franklin. Congratulations on surviving the explosion. Did you defeat your little friend, too? It was difficult, but I beat mine. Killed and squished the bug in my brain. You are close. I can tell by the signal. The Hope for the Future has some propulsion now. I’m coming to join you, Captain Slater. Your admiral will be there soon to issue orders. I think my first order will be for you to provide me dinner. My ship isn’t as fast anymore, but I do believe I can make it in time for dinner. I’m so hungry all the time now. You will feed me dinner, won’t you, Slater? I think today you’ll be on the menu . . .”
— 13 —
Admiral Lopez was a derelict—and apparently a mad one. Pixi had mentioned something about Slater going crazy without a parasite. He didn’t have time to worry about what implications the admiral’s mental state had on the future of his own. Slater had to prepare himself; the admiral was looking to absorb his derelict and he decidedly didn’t want to be on the menu, as she had suggested. He could feel it in his core that she was moving closer with every passing moment. Nothing was showing on the scanners yet, but his nanobots were very short-ranged, even though their abilities had increased once he reached level 3. Slater frantically moved his view throughout the derelict, trying to decide what to do. He was knocked from his panic by the notification that the natural weapons ability had finished researching.
As he had suspected, his MOBS now had level 0 natural weapons. Placing his research point into biotech implants, he examined his MOBS to see what had changed. His kobolds looked the same, the enhancement either not affecting humanoid MOBS or having a minimal impact. His rats did show a change. Their feet now sported short claws, and their teeth were longer, the front incisors now resembling a pair of fangs. He still had no idea what the admiral would bring to the fight or even when the fight would occur. The only thing he could do was continue upgrading his forces and improving his defenses for the coming battle.
Since he didn’t have time to actively work on the engineering station, he pulled the research point for it and dumped it into laser weapons research. His research on crushing weapons was ninety-one percent complete, and the biotech implants research was ticking along quickly; it was only a level 0 ability he was trying to unlock. If the crushing weapons research finished before the admiral arrived, Slater decided his next research upgrade would be bringing clothing up to rank two in an effort to unlock armor for his kobolds.
He was maxed on his power output and decided to look through his compartments to see if anything could be done to improve their defense. The first thing that stood out was the entry point to his derelict. He had kept it MOBS- and trap-free to show explorers that he was playing by the rules. With the admiral on her way, all bets were off.
After building the new compartments, equipping his MOBS, adding the lab, and performing numerous failed transmitter experiments, he was down to sixty-seven salvage. He knew that keeping some reserve was going to be necessary, but better defenses were in order. Slater spent salvage to create a pit trap in the middle of the garbage room and a pair of tripwire traps in the entry passageway. He ordered the drones forward to install the traps. The three that were needed to complete the work scuttled from the core room, the urgency of the moment making their movements seem painfully slow.
The crushing weapons upgrade was complete by the time the drones made it halfway to their objectives. He quickly dropped the now-available research point into clothing and watched the research bar move very slowly as it went about the level 2 research. His kobolds’ dag
gers were level 2 weapons, so he didn’t experiment with upgrading anyone to the theoretically weaker level 1 crushing weapons at this time, not to mention the fact that most of his drones were too busy to print out fancy clubs. Biotech implants were at eighteen percent complete and laser weapon upgrades were only at three percent.
He watched the drones as they—along with nanobot support—cleared out the pit area in the garbage room and “grew” the spikes up from the bottom. The tripwire traps in the boarding hatch area were easier to install; the drones welded two anchor points to the hull and strung a nearly invisible tripwire across the floor. Tension was placed on the wire, and a sharp metal spike was loaded in its housing. The drones changed things up a bit, placing the spike for the first trap so it would shoot from the side of the compartment, while the other trap would shoot directly down from the top of the ceiling. The drones finished setting the traps and began to scuttle their way back to the core room when he heard the dreaded warning sound beep in his interface.
Scanners are detecting a vessel approaching.
Slater linked into his nanobots on the hull and caught his first glimpse of the admiral’s vessel. The oncoming derelict was larger than his ship, but not by much. The design was similar to the way he planned to build out his own vessel: two rows of seven compartments linked side by side. It had fourteen compartments versus his nine. Would that be too big of a difference to overcome?
As he watched, the admiral’s vessel flipped over so the propulsion unit on the back could begin to brake, fighting against the velocity it had built up while charging toward his own derelict. The engine she was using was one of the positioning thrusters, not a main thruster. It would have only provided her with negligible acceleration, leading him to believe she hadn’t been that far away when his signal went out.
A final check of his research progress revealed that the biotech implant would unlock before she could dock with his vessel. The last few percentage points ticked down as the admiral made her final approach. The upgrade was a disappointment, requiring him to access the engineering station in order to create prototypes that he could then test out in the lab. Once the emergency was over, this would be a fun pastime; visions of bilge rats with lasers on their backs ran through his mind, though the pleasant thought was interrupted by the clank of the two vessels docking together. He dumped the free research point into natural weapons, level 1, as the derelicts completed their connection.
Slater zoomed in to see his nanobots and those of the admiral each trying to drain resources from each other. Neither of them was strong enough to overcome their opponent, resulting in a stalemate. Slater would have breathed a sigh of relief if he still had lungs. He had secretly worried that she would just dock with Slater and that her larger vessel would overpower his nanobots and drain his vessel dry. Instead, it looked like when two derelicts met, one would have to destroy the other’s core directly with its MOBS.
The admiral was wasting no time in her assault. The boarding hatch clanged open and figures began to pour onto his deck in a flood. The first figures that dropped were quickly buried by those following behind, who slammed the unfortunate early arrivals to the floor. Eventually, they began to untangle themselves, hissing and scratching at each other as the swarm rushed the hatch leading to the garbage room.
His opponents resembled a twisted form of a kobold. They wore only a loincloth and were larger than his standard MOBS. They had no weapons on them, but their twisted form made it obvious that the admiral had invested heavily in the natural weapons upgrades. Each kobold sported three-inch-long claws that clacked together as they moved. The creatures’ teeth were deformed yet long and sharp. A trickle of bloody drool constantly flowed from their mouths as the twisted teeth punctured their lips and cheeks. There was a gleam of madness and hunger in their eyes; these creatures would stop at nothing to destroy and consume his core. Would his own forces and the paltry defenses he had cobbled together be up to the task?
Kobold Defiler, Level 2
The interface was able to identify the creature, reading its description as the nanobots absorbed the bloody drool hitting the floor. The template didn’t unlock yet; he would need to process some dead bodies for that to happen. As the horde neared the hatchway to the garbage room, the first tripwire trap triggered. The steel spike fired straight down and into the hunched back of the creature that had activated it. The creature howled in pain, its comrades pushing it aside and trampling the grievously wounded defiler in their attempt to get to Slater’s core.
The second tripwire scored a double hit! The bolt from the side lanced completely through not only the defiler that had triggered it but also lodged into the leg of one at its side. The wounded creatures were tossed aside by their fellows.
The first of the horde had even now reached the hatch to his next compartment and easily spun it open. He had forgotten to set the hatches to the more difficult setting. Slater corrected the mistake throughout the rest of the ship, but it was too late for the hatch to the garbage room.
The defilers spilled into the garbage room, the frontrunners tripping on the debris strewn about the floor. When the horde reached the middle of the room, the weight of the defilers triggered the pit trap. Three of the creatures dropped inside and were impaled on the spikes below. Before the horde could correct its course and move around the trap, two more were pushed in. To his disappointment, the two that had been pushed in quickly scampered back out; the bodies of the first victims had cushioned their fall and protected them from the spikes.
His bilge rats leaped at the nearest defilers, latching on and chewing away at the invaders. The defilers hardly slowed down. The ones that had been attacked were slashing and biting at the rats, dealing more damage than the little guys could take. The rats fell quickly, having only wounded their targets, none of which were out of the fight. The invaders scuttled over to the hatch separating his garbage room from the cargo hall. Slater’s heart sank as he checked back in on the entry hatch. The massive flood of creatures had slowed, but more defilers were climbing into his ship at a rate of one every few seconds. How many of these abominations could the admiral have crammed aboard her derelict?
The level 2 defilers were likely stronger than his level 1 kobolds, but not strong enough to open the difficult hatch quickly. The pair of kobolds in the cargo hall readied their weapons, their aim focused on the slowly opening hatch. The defilers were too fixated on their prey, their efforts at opening the hatch stopping when the gap was wide enough for one of them to barely squeeze through. The first wedged itself in the partially opened hatch only to eat a laser bolt to the face. The shot killed the defiler, but one of its comrades squeezed past the body in its own attempt to enter the compartment. The second kobold fired. Its blunderbuss blew apart the new defiler squeezing through. Some of the shot slammed into the creatures farther back from the doorway, dealing minor wounds to more of his foes.
The defilers behind the lead pair pulled the bodies out of the hatchway, clearing the blockage enough to squeeze through. If his kobolds had weapons with a faster rate of fire, they could have turned the hatchway into a deathtrap. Unfortunately, they could only stare at the struggling defilers as the laser rifle recharged; the blunderbuss was empty. The kobold with the blunderbuss dropped the weapon and drew his dagger. The blunderbuss was a powerful close-quarters firearm, but there was no way to reload it in the heat of combat. This was the first use of one, and for now, the only way to reload it was to have one of his drones craft another shot. There was no time for experimentation at the engineering station now, but later he would have to work out a reload process. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.
The bilge rats didn’t need to wait for reloads or recharging. Seeing prey so close, the two pairs dropped from the top of the container and latched onto the face of the defiler currently squirming through. The creature thrashed madly, allowing it to pop out of the tight confines of the hatchway. Some enterprising defilers finally figured out
that they needed to pull the hatch open the rest of the way. It squeaked in protest as it opened fully. A fresh mass of creatures flooded the chamber. The rats, having finished off the defiler they had initially targeted, ran to meet the onslaught.
Another laser blast lashed out as the kobolds began to back away from the hatchway, waiting once more for their sole ranged weapon to charge back up. The horde of defilers hacked apart the brave bilge rats and charged toward the hapless pair of kobolds. Realizing its weapon wouldn’t recharge in time, the kobold with the laser rifle drew its knife, standing side by side with the other kobold as they awaited their fate. The kobolds stood their ground, thrusting out with their daggers as the wave of defilers hit them. One kobold struck true, its dagger piercing the chest and presumably the heart of its target. The dead defiler dropped to the ground, pulling the dagger out of the kobold’s hand as it fell.
The second kobold thrust forward at its target, its dagger embedding into the abomination’s outstretched hand. It didn’t have time to pull out its weapon for another strike before the swarm began to claw and bite at Slater’s pair of defenders. Once the kobolds were down, the invaders got to work on opening the next hatchway.
Slater took stock of the enemy’s losses so far. Between the traps and defending MOBS, the admiral had lost ten defilers and Slater was down two kobolds and six rats. His forces would have to do much better if he wanted to survive this invasion.
The squeaking hatch gave the kobolds in the mess hall time to prepare. The regular kobolds and the taskmaster had their laser rifles aimed at the hatch. The taskmaster waved the kobold with the blunderbuss over to the side, clearing its line of fire, then ordered it to wait for the enemy to group up. The taskmaster was supposed to be more advanced than a standard kobold, but Slater had figured the upgraded cost was only reflected in its slightly more powerful body. Taskmasters having some command ability was a welcome surprise; he needed every advantage he could get.