First Line of Defence: Chapter 7 (Patreon)

Chapter 7

When the Curtains Come Down.

I stood in a sea of Wargarg kicking and punching like a mad wolverine. There was no technique, just unchecked violence as they tried to swarm over my body and tear me apart with their teeth and claws. The Wargarg were like wolf-shaped piranha, taking chunks out of my legs if I stayed still for more than a second. I’d been ripped apart by these little green bastards dozens of time, and every time they did it, I ran back in for more. They were spawning all over the station and running full tilt into waiting turrets, trying to get to me. They didn’t seem to care.

They were in some sort of frenzy.

I punted another one away as it tried to climb up my leg and grabbed the one biting my nipple off, so I could crush it with my bare hands. I then leapt and landed on a pair furry heads, bringing my body weight down on them to crush them.

Half a minute later, I was watching the lid of my regeneration chamber rise, with a grin on my face. “Shit, are they still coming?”

“They never stopped,” Tee said.

Congratulations, you have reached level 40

You have 1 Path Points to spend.

You have 154 Class Points to spend.

You must now choose to increase the level of your station to 2 or accept another trait.

Station Upgrade/Trait?

“I chose the hangar bay trait,” I said. “Tee, is the squad strong enough to survive them yet?”

“Not yet, some of the Wargarg are higher than level 1 from killing the rats, and they have the numbers to cause problems if we aren’t careful.”

“How much longer do you think they will keep this up?”

“I have no idea.”

I started running.

The Wargarg didn’t let up or even slow down. If anything, the rate they appeared increased. Less than an hour later, I received this prompt, got distracted, and swiftly died.

Congratulations, you have reached level 50.

You have 1 Path Points to spend.

You have 609 Class Points to spend.

You must now choose to increase the level of your station to 2 or accept another trait.

Station Upgrade/Trait?

As the lid opened, I said, “I select the dungeon boss trait.”

Please select your dungeon boss from the list.

An absolutely colossal list appeared before me. Eight people had chosen the dungeon boss as their first trait, and a few of them had excellent memories, which meant they’d managed to put together a list of most of the options for the government to share around. I’d studied those options during my time off.

There was a lot to choose from, but the majority of the options were different types of killing machines. The rest were dungeons bosses that offered buffs to mobs.

I’d come up with three choices for what sort of dungeon boss should be in charge. All of the choices revolved around buffing my immortal soldiers. With a thousand teams of challengers on their way, this was the perfect time to go with option 3.

“I choose to promote one of the immortal soldiers to a dungeon master for my dungeon boss.”

The primary reason I’d chosen a dungeon master was that they could learn, level, and buff their own kind. They weren’t a mindless automaton like other dungeon mobs, so the more they fought they better they got. When you mixed this ability with them being able to direct and utilize the other immortal soldiers, it made them more dangerous over time.

“Tee, send in the squad.”

I got out off the table and started getting dressed.

“They’re on their way. What’s the plan for the dungeon? Your limited to twenty dungeon mobs with a level 1 station.”

“Use the new defence slots to build more D2s.”

“They won’t make your immortal soldiers stronger if they don’t have energy.”

“I can afford to buy the internal reactor upgrade which makes the need for energy obsolete.”

“Damn that’s kind of a good plan. Did you come up with that on the spot?”

“Of course not. You need to plan in advance for multiple contingencies if you want to take advantage of opportunities properly.” I opened the door and started running. “Tee, tell me when we’ve got fifteen minutes before the challengers arrive so I can assess the situation.”

“Will do.”

***

I sat in my chair, looking through my list of options. I’d passed level 70 twenty minutes ago and taken the energy shield. For level 60, I’d taken the triple-layered armour trait. From here onwards, it was going to be the missile fabricator and then the particle cannon. Once I hit level 100, I’d have no more traits to gain and level the station to level 2.

“How many mobs can I have in my dungeon again?” I’d died so many times my brain was getting fuzzy.

“The limit is twenty, on a level 1 station. The number of entrances you have is also limited to one.”

“Wait, I can have more than one entrance at higher levels? Why?”

“Some dungeons become popular to challengers because the station master adds loot which cost you resource points after you purchase the blueprints. If yours becomes popular, you can make a lot of credits from having lots of people attack you, and if you have to wait for each group to die that can become a massive bottleneck, so you can have more entrances and iterations of the dungeon if the station is big enough.”

“Okay I think I follow that. Do additional entrances give any disadvantages?”

“Sort of. They all lead to your control room, so you can end up fighting multiple challengers at once if they time their entrances correctly.”

There were probably some dangerous possibilities there, but I’d have to look into it later. “Since the dungeon is automatically generated, what can I affect?”

“Let me show you the current dungeon layout before we talk about that.” A hologram appeared above my control console. It looked like the insides of a ship. “They’ve taken the design from a human troop transport. The entrance for your dungeon is an airlock that connects to the cargo bay. There are two dungeon mobs in the cargo bay. Once the challengers get past them, they have to make their way down the corridor to the barracks. There are twelve mobs in the barracks, past the barracks is another corridor with doors the lead to different systems for the ship. There is one soldier in the corridor, two in the engine room, and three in the control room. You get to choose where you place your dungeon master, squad, and dungeon turrets.”

“Does the dungeon function like a real troop transport?”

“What do you mean?”

“Will the dungeon turrets stop working if they take out the generator?”

“No. But the ships internal sensors will go offline.”

“They have access to sensors?”

“Dungeons are real combat scenarios. The more complex the scenario the more you will have at your disposal. Right now, you’ve got a basic troop transport with internal sensors.”

“The other day you said I could upgrade parts of the dungeon with resource points. What can I upgrade?”

“You haven’t bought any upgrade, so there are only three things you can currently afford to upgrade. The internal structure, so they can’t easily cut through walls and doors. The internal sensors, so your dungeon mobs can see them better, and know how to react. And the material they use for cover.”

“Upgrade it all and put the dungeon master, squad, and turrets in the cargo bay.”

“Why not the barracks?”

“You said they can cut through walls. The armoury and mess hall on either side of the barracks. They can go around the barrack if we give them a chance. Also, the dungeon master can call the mobs in the barracks for reinforcements. It means that they’re going to have a constant stream of reinforcements entering the carbo bay as the dungeon mobs respawn.”

“I didn’t think about that.”

“Neither did I, until you mentioned they could cut through walls.”

“They still might be able to beat this.”

“I’m level 75, and the squad are on their fourth upgrade. We can now field 15 dungeon turrets, that are on their seventeenth upgrade. So, if they can beat this, then there was never a chance of us winning.”

“I’m just making sure you thought this through.”

“I have. I know I’ve got no clue what I’m supposed to do with this dungeon, but the AI clone left me clues suggesting I shouldn’t be involved with the dungeon decisions and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Your plan is to not plan.”

“My plan is to trust someone who knows what I know and more. It’s why I chose the dungeon master. He knows what he’s doing even if he’s currently a two-edged sword.”

“How is he a two-edged sword?”

“By taking him, I’ve lost ability to spend class points on upgrading the immortal soldiers. But, if he can level enough, he’ll be able to upgrade them a lot more than I can and be able to lead the defence in my place.”

“That implies your dungeon survives long enough for it to matter.

“You’re being awfully pessimistic.”

“You try focusing on your job, when the guy in charge tells you he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

I chuckled. “Fine, build more D2s and have the squad throw the switches. We’ve got the perfect army to level the rats and I’m pretty sure no one is going to challenge me after this, not for a long time, so my rats are going to be my only source of experience.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Would you like me to clear out the last of the Horde?”

“Are they still around? Nevermind, don’t answer that. Just kill them. And initiate another expansion quest if you fill up all the defence slots with D2s. Keep repeating it if it happens again. I want this station to have as many D2s and level 10 rats as we have resources.”

I got out of my chair headed for the exit.

“Where are you going?”

“To give the Wargarg a reason to keep fighting.”

***

I entered the dungeon, in a less the perfect mood. It was a long walk from my control room to the dungeon and I would rather be taunting the Wargarg than fighting the challengers.

I wasn’t even sure I could help.

The control room of the transport ship looked completely authentic. I could even see stars through the front window and displays on all the screens. The immortal soldier standing around the control consoles, ignored me as I made my way to the door and into the corridor. I went past a few more doors and entered the barrack. The immortal soldiers in there also ignored me.

“The armoury is to your right,” Tee said.

I spotted the door and entered the armoury. The weapon racks held particle assault rifles, missile launchers, grenades, and dozens of drones. There was even exoskeleton power armour in a harness system.

I climbed into the harness system and started tightening the straps.

“You might want to hurry it up,” Tee said. “The first team is loading into the elevator to challenge the dungeon. Also, you’re going that wrong.”

“How wrong?”

“It’s going to break your arms.”

I started undoing the straps.

The lights began to flash red, and the voice of Diego the new dungeon master spoke across the speaker system. “Wargarg marauders have infiltrated the cargo bay. We need immediate reinforcement.”

I got the last strap undone as the lights stopped blinking red.

“Cancel, the reinforcement request. They’re dead.”

“Wow, that was faster than I expected,” Tee said.

***

I had no idea what I had done, but the Wargarg never stopped respawning, even after destroyed the fleet and the dungeon massacred the challengers so quickly it seemed like a speed run. The first ten waves of challengers were decked out in the best gear credits could buy. Which for Wargarg were these twelve-foot werewolf mechs. It didn’t matter. The level gap by that point was huge. They didn’t stand a chance.

After the first few waves of elites, it was nothing but waves of well-armed but ultimately underpowered eight-foot mechs. The smaller mechs had lasers and missiles launchers. However, all they managed to do was teach my dungeon master how to do his job.

After the first few challenger teams died in the dungeon without me needing to do anything, I went back to giving the Wargarg a reason to keep respawning.

I was still fighting when I received the prompt I had been waiting for. Except it wasn’t what I was waiting for. It was something new.

Congratulations, you have reached level 100.

Congratulation, you have reached your maximum level. Your level cannot go any higher. You can now choose to Prestige.

Should you Prestige, your level will be reset to level 1, this includes all the Path and Class Points you acquired from leveling. However, when you Prestige, you will continue to have the benefits of your current level and upgrades until the end of the Cycle. Those who Prestige, will start with an additional trait.

“Do it,” Tee said. “This is definitely a tutorial setup. You’re going to have to do this at some point so you might as well do it now.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said, climbing off the regeneration table. “Prestige me up, baby.”

Congratulation, you have gained Prestige! As the first member of your faction to achieve this result, you have been given an achievement reward:

+10 Path Points.

+100 Class Points.

+10,000 Experience Points.

+100,000 Resource Points.

+100,000 Credits.

+1,000,000 Tokens

The 1st Prestige Perk.

Please select a second starter trait.

That was a no-brainer. I’d been wrong. So wrong. “I want the squad.” I started reading through achievement rewards. “Hey, Tee, what do these perks do?”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask about that. The War Dog perk gives you double credits and resources from factions you are at war with, along with a 100% attack and defence bonus, and a 10% increase to experience. This applies to your station too. Personally, you get 10,000 Tokens a Cycle.”

That was a lot of Tokens. “For how long?”

“For as long as this season of the game lasts. It’s independent of your faction surviving.”

Holy shit, that was huge. I was rich. Like fancy bitch lighting cigars with hundred-dollar bills because I was an idiot rich. “What does the first prestige perk give me?”

“Double experience, credits, and resources, so long as you are the only station master with prestige. Personally, this also gives you 10,000 Tokens a Cycle. Actually, this might get interesting. We will know shortly. Get out there and annoy those wolves.”

Four hours later, I received another prompt.”

Congratulations, you have reached level 100.

Congratulation, you have reached your maximum level for a second time. Your level cannot go any higher. You can now choose to Prestige again.

I took the prestige option again and received a second prestige perk which gave all the rewards of the first, including the experience bonus. I’d broken the game and was snowballing. This time I took the dungeon boss trait. Two hours later, it happened again.

Congratulations, you have reached level 100.

An hour after that, it did it again.

Congratulations, you have reached level 100.

Half an hour later.

Congratulations, you have reached level 100.

Each perk gave the same buff until I started with all the traits and the final prestige appeared.

Congratulation, you have gained the final rank of prestige! As the first member of your faction to achieve this result, you have been given an achievement reward:

+10 Path Points.

+100 Class Points.

+10,000 Experience Point.

+100,000 Resource Points.

+100,000 Credits.

+10,000,000 Tokens

The 8th Prestige Perk.

A moderator has been contacted. An AI investigation has been launched. Please standby as you’re disconnected from the scenario while the investigation is underway.

“What does this mean, Tee?” I shouted as the wargarg continued to try to tear me apart. I picked one up and headed butted it so hard I was left holding its arms.

“You broke the game and are about to be disconnected. It took long enough.”

“Wait, you knew this would happen?”

“I mean, you don’t go from level 5 to level 900 in a day without someone noticing. This should be interesting.”

“What should be interesting?”

Before Tee could reply, the station and the battle I was in faded. I found myself sitting in an office. The room kind of reminded me of a police precinct from late 80s cop movies.

A ceiling fan slowly turned above my head, and a tired looking old man in a grey cardigan, suspenders, and tan slacks sat behind a cheap coffee-stained desk. He had a packet of Marlboros in his breast pocket and smelled strongly of scotch.

He groundout his cigarette in the ashtray and scowled, looking at the manila file in front of him. “Case number 001 for the human faction.” He had a slow droll way of speaking with an accent I couldn’t place. “Investigation into disproportionate leveling. The individual reached maximum prestige for human station master class by the 2ndCycle of the new season, removing level cap limit. The individual created a feedback loop where he would level his station to level 1,485 by the end of the Cycle. Rules were adhered to. Actions, however, were against an AI faction whose reaction was disproportionate to sapient races, except under extreme duress. Extreme duress was applied. Scenario was legitimate. Chance of occurrence, .0000000000973%. Investigator suggests full course correction. Station current trajectory flagged as indestructible.”

“Request denied,” said a nasally female voice through the ceiling. “Faction is a new faction. Full course correction is unacceptable. Achievement must be exchanged.”

“Damnit, it’s the 2ndcycle.”

“Irrelevant.”

He grumbled as he shuffled the papers. “Alright, I’ll make a deal.” He finally looked at me. “What do you want?”

“For what?”

He scowled, reached for his pack of Marlboros, and popped one in his mouth. It started burning by itself, confirming I was in virtual reality. He took a drag and blew the smoke in my face. It smelled like the real thing which made him more than a little rude.

I didn’t like this guy.

“I hate dealing with the newly initiated. Here’s the gist of it. You broke the Game. But you broke the Game fairly. I have to put you back in a position where you aren’t broken, but to do that, I have to take certain achievements from you and undo some of your actions against the AI faction you’ve been fighting. I’m going to make it like most of today never happened.”

“Why can’t I stay indestructible?”

“Because you’re not the only smartass out there. You are one of over 189,782 species involved in the Game, and they’re all trying to break it like you did, some merely because it’s funny and others because they’re malicious. If we let every faction get away with it, half the universe would die of old age between seasons. We need to keep a balance. That’s my job. Since you’re new, I’ll tell you what you can keep, so you can negotiate with some clue, or I can let you bumble your way through it blindly.”

I didn’t fully understand what he was saying, but I knew bullshit when I smelled it. I just didn’t know what kind it was. “Tell me what I can keep. We’ll negotiate from there.”

“You can have your prestige ranks, all of them, but you stay at level 1 with a ten-fold increase to the required experience per level that doesn’t lift until your station reaches level 100. However, dying now doesn’t cost you anything, and your debt is gone. I found your death count amusing. You can keep everything you acquired from the achievement rewards as a starter fund, including the correct amount of credits, but you lose the experience, resource, and credit modifiers from all your perks, except the war dog perk, until your station is level 100. Actually, I’m also going to make it so you can only spend the class points from the rewards on your D2s, but you can have 1000 instead of 900 since I’m so nice. However, you will have to keep the dungeon master dungeon boss. But in return, I’m resetting your expansion quests, so you can try to do them properly. Lastly, since you won against the Wargarg faction, I will give you their sensor scrambler technology free and purchased, along with an upgrade to your scanners and infiltration technology. Now what do you want in return? These requests cannot be game-related.”

My jaw had dropped halfway through his speech. He’d fucked me. There was no dinner date, no smooth jazz. It was just Netflix and chill without the Netflix. I’d just spent a day dying over and over for this and he was going to take it all away.

Worse than that, he was hitting me with a massive increase in the cost of leveling. It was utter bullshit. And he seemed to know it because his expression reminded me of my HR manager.

Well, if he wanted to be unreasonable, I could be unreasonable too. “Do I still receive my 90,000 Tokens a Cycle from my perks?” I hadn’t been this sarcastic since I was a hormonal teenager.

“Yes.”

“Fine, then give everyone on Earth who is over 50 a rejuvenation treatment for free, and everyone else a treatment when they turn 50. Heal everyone’s diseases and medical problem completely so that it doesn’t ever reoccur and fix the damage to the environment for us, since it should be easy for you.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”

His attitude was really annoying. If he wanted me to be more flippant and sarcastic, I’d be more flippant and sarcastic. “I want my own country the size of New Zealand along the equator. Not one of the ones that already exist, make a new one for me. It needs to be a tropical paradise with white sandy beaches and breath-taking lagoons wherever you go. I want the weather, diving, and fishing to be amazing. It needs to be so amazing everyone will want to go there. And make my dog Buster immortal and healthy again.”

He blew another cloud of smoke in my face. “True immortality isn’t allowed. I can make sure that he lives as long as you do, by giving him rejuvenation treatments and medical care.”

“That will work. Actually, make it, so everyone’s pets live as long as they do and never have health problems.”

He ground out his cigarette. “Would you like the planet Mars terraformed to go along with your new country while we are at it? It would be nice to have your own planet after all.”

“Sure, why not. Also, make Pluto large enough to be a planet again. It’s so bullshit that it’s not. Do I have anything else I can ask for?”

He chuckled. It sounded mean. “Personal enhancements?”

“Make me good with a particle pistol. Like real good. Like fastest hands in the galaxy kind of good. So good my name becomes a legend a thousand years from now. And I want to know how to fight. Make me a total badass, like despite how good I am with a particle pistol, I’m better at fighting. You do that and everything else, and we’re square. Wait, tell everyone that I did all this awesome stuff for them. I want the credit. And give Tee the best body you can, so he can walk around with me. Also, give him a micropenis, and a front tramp stamp with an arrow pointing down and the words let’s have a little fun. Also, give him a tattoo on his back that’s an anime chick wrapped in tentacles and the words, it’s not a phase mom.”

The old guy nodded. “Request approved. Negotiations successful. Case closed.”

I stared blankly at him for ten seconds. Then what he said sank in. “Wait, what? I was joking.”

The old guy shrugged. “Irrelevant. Your demands exceeded the minimum compensation requirement, and your request was accepted. Honestly, you got a third of what you could have. I was willing to give you your own solar system. But that’s your problem. You should have taken this more seriously.” He ground out his cigarette and pulled another from the pack. “Now, your country should be ready for you by the 25th Cycle. Fully correcting Earth's ecosystem and environment will take until the 50thCycle since it’s an incremental process if we don’t cause extreme weather conditions. But the rejuvenation and disease removal for your world’s population should be finished by the beginning of the 3rd Cycle. Mars will take until the 100th Cycle because we don’t have any terraforming equipment in your system.”

“What?”

He ignored me. “From here on out, you will be moderated. A repeat of your antagonist actions with the Wargarg faction is not allowed. Any time you breach what is acceptable, you will see a notification, and their faction will interpret you in a less aggressive way than your actions dictate. Your transit station has been given immunity for the remainder of the Cycle as it resets. So, enjoy the rest of your time. I hope to never see you again.”

His office faded, and I was back sitting in my control chair, instead of fighting in the corridor.

“So, what happened?” Tee asked. “Did we get a full course correction?”

“Someone didn’t allow it,” I said, numb. “They had to compensate me.”

Tee whistled. “Damn. What did you get me?”

“A body.”

“Is it nice?”

“Real nice.”

“Thanks, dude.”

“Don’t mention it.” I shook my head, trying to clear the stupor. It didn’t work. “This has been a weird day. I think I need to drink a bottle of bourbon or take a nap.”

“You might as well, the stations resetting itself, and it says I can’t access anything for the rest of the Cycle.”

I put my feet on my control console and closed my eyes.

A prompt appeared.

Would you like to go to sleep?

Yes/No?

This was just too weird.

I needed bourbon.