Connection Unknown: Chapter 2 Part 2 of 2 (Patreon)

Dana tamped down on her frustration as enemy fighters crossed their formation. Most were torn apart by close protection weapons and rail cannons, aiming and firing so fast as to look automatic.

The fighters answered with missiles, peppering the massive warships. The pass was over in less than two seconds.

Only twenty percent of the fighters made it out onto the other side. Fighters don’t win space battles.

“Destroyer three has lost engines and their jump drive is failing.”

“Corvette eight is holed but they’re still able to fight!”

The enemy carrier went up in a wave of rippling explosions as missiles diverted and dove toward the second carrier, getting a glancing blow as the carrier’s defense weapons opened up.

“Thirty seconds!”

“We’re in range of the enemy rail cannons.”

Dana reached through her holographic screen and held onto the railing as the destroyer shuddered and then pitched to the side. Several rail gun rounds crashed through the ship. Alarms whirled as the pressure dropped. Spinning lights painted the command center.

She pulled her gloves on. They cinched to her coveralls and her collar ballooned around her head, creating a clear wraparound helmet.

A destroyer started to transition, rail cannon rounds tearing through it like a round through a tin can.

The frigate jumped, to Dana’s relief, as her own destroyer shook and shuddered. She gripped the railing tighter.

Three ships had jumped out of the combat area. The others fell under the Iron Cross fleet’s cannons.

Dana’s vision blanked and turned into a killcam, following a rail cannon round piercing through her ship’s armor and hitting a reactor, tearing apart the ship.

She breathed out, focusing her mind and calming the anger in her gut. Fucking spies.

[Defeat]

“Log out.”

Her vision cleared and her helmet hinged backward as her support arm brought her down onto her charging cradle. Her suit opened as she stepped out into house shoes, wearing a form-fitting net-sleeve that would increase feedback and regulate temperature better. She checked the readings displayed on the flex screen inside her forearm.

“Your agent Jacqueline is calling you,” her house’s AI said—kind and light, but still undeniably robotic in nature.

She must have been watching the feed to know the exact minute to call.

Dana walked to her command station, a series of physical and holographic systems that created a half-circle around her.

The silver forward screen turned on, showing Jacqueline with a pitiful look.

“Jacqueline, I need you to get a message to Tao Walker.”

“Hi, Dana! Okay, so don’t worry about all that, okay?”

Dana frowned. “We were betrayed by someone. We have to figure out who it was and remove them. First, focus on reinforcing my area. See if the Iron Cross is making a push or just a feint—”

Jacqueline spoke over her. “Star King Guild has canceled your contract.”

“Wha-why?” Dana shook her head.

“You know how they are—tight-lipped.” Jacqueline blinding smile didn’t reach her eyes or stop her from talking. “But don’t worry. I made sure that we got all the payments for the contract cancelation. Though their timing is a little bad.” Jacqueline tried laughing it off, but sounded nervous rather than reassuring. “Don’t worry. Take some vacation time, hone your skills and we’ll find you another contract soon enough! All right. Got to go. Have fun. Wish I could get some time off!” Jacqueline cut the channel and the screen returned to silver.

Dana stared at her reflection in the screen. Mid-twenties, Asian features with blue eyes too bright and clear to be anything but genetically altered, and the paler side of white of someone who had spent a lifetime in space or in their net-suit.

“A vacation?” Dana raised an eyebrow and looked back to her net-suit: top of the line, custom fit, with systems that allowed her to operate in the net for days at a time.

Fired right after losing a battle? Too much coincidence. They expected me to lose. They must have known about the battle.

She crossed her arm and held her chin. Her eyes narrowed.

With the advent of the hypernet reaching communications across the human sphere, video game guilds had risen from system-wide entertainment to a force across the net. Sports were still played, but their popularity had diminished as games increased in realism and skill required.

Guilds had turned into sports teams, similar to the old Formula One racing teams. Hundreds of guild members toiled behind the scenes to support a few skilled or famous players. Corporations bought and sponsored gaming guilds as a measure of status.

Corporations were known to use their gaming guilds against rivals to settle disputes. A perfect arena for their wealth and power.

“System, news of Star King Guild’s corporate sponsors, referenced against Iron Cross’s corporate sponsors,” Dana instructed.

“Merlouc Corporation announced today that they will be working with the Dasarian Conglomerate on a new trade deal. The deal will create a warpgate between the Centauri and Tropez system. Critics—”

“Dasarian and Iron Cross?” Dana interrupted.

“Three months ago, the Dasarian Conglomerate purchased the Iron Cross’s primary sponsorship position. With their arrival, the Iron Cross went through several staff changes and seems to be aggressively looking to increase their power in Fleet Commander. The Dasarian Conglomerate CEO Ava Morealis commented, saying that as the premium supplier of iron in four systems, it was only natural that they join their forces with the Iron Cross, the premier gaming guild in several games.”

“System, information on Iron Admiral and Dasarian Conglomerate before today?”

“The Gamer-eye reported that the Iron Admiral, as fierce as she is cold, broke another heart. Today her agent announced that she will be joining the Star King Guild over the Iron Cross Guild. With these two forces bordering each other in Fleet Commander, we can only expect the infamous Iron Admiral will be at the heart of this conflict!”

“End.” Dana sighed and rubbed her face, groaning into her hands.

So Dasarian had bought out the Iron Cross. To get my contract? They didn’t seem to have taken her joining the Star King Guild too well. She turned her head to the side, reviewing the facts. “Or was the Star King Guild looking to get my contract so they could have me on their side and send me into a battle I would lose?” Her mind picked through the information, examining the angles of the two parties. She shook herself, pulling out of her thought spin. “Doesn’t matter.” In the end, Star King Guild had used her as a pawn. Probably as an offering to the Dasarian Conglomerate—make them look good—kill her, then throw her away.

Dana’s eyes moved back and forth, reviewing the information. Her voice softened and her shoulders drooped. “Maybe I should have done public appearances, or played to the audience.”

She shook herself and walked through her apartment of marble whites, stainless steels, and golden trim with cream couches, slate-gray countertops and tables—the standard addition package. The most impressive feature—the floor-to-ceiling window—showed the early morning sunlight glistening off the adjacent towers as it peeked between them.

The doors in the living room opened at her command, allowing a light breeze into the room.

Dana stepped out onto the balcony. She let out a hiss as she ran her fingers through her hair. It was almost painful from being compressed inside her suit for so long.

She gazed at the other buildings in her complex. Eight multi-use high-rises rose through the air, creating a square on the ground. Grav trains moved between the massive edifices of silver, white, glass, and green.

Gardens filled random spaces, and parks broke up the buildings. The interior apartments came at a premium—allowing residents to see the beauty of the “courtyard” in between buildings.

“To hide the ugliness, more like.” Her eyes were drawn to the space between apartments, where she could see beyond her complex. A sliver of the real world, the real Earth. Mega-towers, grayed edifices—hardened pillars against time that bled their decades-old rust.

She reached out, finding the gossamer-thin netting that wrapped around her balcony—wrapped around every balcony. It slowed the speed of the incoming air and made it incredibly hard and time-consuming to break through.

Dana ran her hands down the netting. Some said it felt like fishing wire braided together. It reminded her of just how thin the barrier was between where she had been born and where she was now.

She looked at the mega-towers in the distance again and her hand came to rest on the banister. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes, and let it out, grabbing the railing. She released it and walked back into her apartment, the doors closing soundlessly behind her.

She opened her fridge. It was filled with meal replacement drinks and nutri-paste for her to refill her suit’s reservoirs with.

“Yay, lemon and berries.” She grabbed the meal replacement shake and shook it, catching the fridge door with her foot on the way to the couch. She sat down, curling her legs under herself on one side, sticking her feet between the back cushions. She cracked the shake and gestured in the air with her free hand.

Projectors created a holographic interface in the air above.

Dana drank her meal replacement, scanning the latest updates. In some kind of fatalistic or reverse schadenfreude, her eyes kept drifting to her updated feed, sorting and organizing new articles that involved her.

She kept glancing away, looking at her finances—studying them, laying down plans in case she wasn’t able to find another contract in the near term, then in the long-term.

She kept catching herself and looking away, as if caught in some sin.

“All right, what the hell are they saying?” She drank some more of her meal replacement and slid the financials out of the way for the reports.

“The Iron Admiral loses the fleet. Is this the end of the Iron Admiral? Review of the greatest Iron Admiral defeats.” She opened that one and scanned it. “Well, they’re thorough at least. Looks like they went back all four years. Must have been preparing this.”

The articles summed her up as she a best admirals on paper, but she was infamous for her detached and unfeeling exterior. Her own guild members talked about her inability to feel.

She dismissed it and returned to the main feed.

“Tao Walker himself came out and talked about the losses in the Gamma sector. He gave a rallying speech.” She waved down the article, watching the video of the speech. She had to hand it to them: Tao Walker did look like some warrior elite when he was all done up with makeup and net touches.

Dana closed the feeds and continued searching, just lost in the net. It turned into a search of the best generals and admirals she had fought or fought beside through her four years.

“The nostalgia is strong in this one,” she muttered, remembering them all. Most had been pushed out of the gaming sphere, focused on the fighting and the winning instead of showmanship, the celebrity, and fame.

She respected these generals and admirals; they had stood for something. They’d worked hard for every victory.

“Guilds,” she said dismissively, lowering her hand from her scrolling.

She looked at the ceiling, towards the stairs that led to the second floor. The dropped lights created swirls from the ceiling to the second floor.

Morning had arrived, the red hues turning to daylight. A wave of despondency ran through her, like a towel wrung of everything.

Dana hinged her head forward, bringing her hand up to dismiss the hologram.

Her eyes fell on a familiar logo to the side of the article. She tilted her head, frowned, and spread her fingers, opening it into a full article.

A sad smile spread across her face as she leaned back into the couch.

“Orion’s Belt.” The words rolled off her tongue with warm inflection. She chuckled to herself, filled with memories and escapades. “Now that was a game.” She sipped her shake while reading it. “Guess all good things come to an end, though.”

Dana groaned and got off the couch, and stood, pushing her hologram upward.

“Game plan.” Training? She paused. Her entire body seemed to argue against that course of action.

“Well, I am off, right?” A cat-like smile spread across her face. “Vacation, right? Jacqueline said to take some time. Do what I want.” Her eyes strayed back to the article about Orion’s Belt servers closing down.

“System, pre-load Orion’s Belt.”

Dana stretched, wincing as she gave her armpit a tentative sniff.

“Maybe a shower first.”