White Sun of Pandora (Only psychos on Pandora) (Borderlands fic, litRPG elements)

[Alex_Hellfire]

Thanks for the chapter

 

[HelioBM]

- Have you heard the news? - Mordecai asked. The hunter seemed to have made a good profit, and after selling his loot was drinking in Moxie's bar with enthusiasm. However, no matter how drunk he was, he was always able to shoot without missing - as he said, "I shoot more accurately when I'm drunk". And he's getting more talkative. - The gangs of Crooked Hand Mac and Dean-and-dot have broken their neutrality, and a war is brewing.
- Dean is the one who thinks that Maliwan's guns work due to devil possession? - I clarified. Mordecai nodded. - Huh. I thought it was peaceful. Do you know the details?
Mordecai shrugged, taking a drink from the bottle in his hand.
- I think Crooked Hand Mac stole something from him. Well, that's what one of Dean's boys said.
- Mordy, darling, I'm glad you're supporting my business, but don't you think you've had enough for one day? - Moxie asked. - Look at Bloodwing.
The hunter glanced at his pet, which had settled on the table and jerked away when Mordecai breathed in his direction. The pseudo-bird hissed and took cover with a wing.
- Uh... Sorry, buddy, - the man said. He turned back to Moxie. - I guess you're right. I'll go.
The hunter staggered out of the bar; wing followed.
Shots rang out, followed by Mordecai's shout.
- Moxie, here's some guns for you as a tip!
Bloodwing flew back into the room, plopped a couple of guns on the counter in front of the hostess, and flew back out.
- How nice - said Moxie.
- They match the color of your eyes - I chuckled.
She nodded.

- Magister! We have work to do!
Lily Rose had been calling me Magister lately. At least it wasn't Sensei.
I sighed and sat down at the table that had grown in front of my house. Having her around had its perks, like those cakes and tea. Coffee's good, but I'd like some variety.
...I'll put up with rich people when I can use them.
- What kind of work? - I asked.
- Hostage rescue, in general terms - said the girl. - Here.
Her ECHO projected a hologram. A man without any vegetation on visible parts of his body, with several scars on his face and head in general, looking "at the camera".
- Mrs. Lupus-Gold - he said in a surprisingly polite and cultured tone. - I wish to address you on an important confidential matter, and I dare to hope for your understanding and cooperation. While His Highness Prince Teddy was visiting me, an unfortunate incident occurred. The brazen rascals of Crooked Hand Mac launched an unprovoked attack, violating the truce between our domains, and kidnapped His Highness. I hope that you will help us in the safe return of His Highness. Of course, all costs will be compensated, and material gratitude will be appropriate.
Huh. This was a type I knew, as well as many other significant figures of Pandora. A Dean-and-dot that Mordecai had only mentioned; one of the sane bandit leaders, essentially a bandit baron who controlled a certain territory and kept order in it. So that's what the war with his rival is about. But, "prince"? Really? Since when did Pandora become a field of high diplomacy...?
Although, maybe Lily Rose's appearance has triggered something. After all, her family is rich and influential enough. Hmm.
- Rescuing hostages is a difficult task, and I'm not sure it's my area of expertise - I remarked. - Even if it's just a matter of playing the role of a bodyguard at the negotiations... I can arrange a place, though.
- We'll manage together - assured the girl.

I can't help but admit: we work really well together, me and her money. A CRETIN turret with a good gun and just a CRETIN turret are two big differences, you know. Big, large-caliber differences.
Judging by the fact that all the guns provided were from Maliwan, Lily Rose either has stock in the corporation, or she just loves that company's products. I'd bet on both together - they're elemental weapons, after all.
In any case, I equipped the negotiation site with two dozen turrets, both overt and covert, with various elemental guns.
Then I thought about it, and added another dozen.
And a minefield.
And a few raised shelters.
And a camouflaged bunker.
- Magister, are you going to build a castle here? - The girl asked. I shuddered and turned off the digital projector. Yes, I guess I got a little carried away... Though one should never underestimate one's safety issues. - I have a couple designs that could be used.
- ...Perhaps some other time - I replied. - I'll still need a proper construction projector, not an ECHO.
Still, Lily Rose's contribution to the design was... and there was no way I could make up my mind how I felt about it. Not only did she paint my turrets, but she also put "skins" on them, making... hell, it was starting to look almost like some sort of amusement park. Designed to kill visitors, but still.
A couple of turrets equipped with fire cannons turned into, uh, dragons...? Western ones with wings and horns. A shocker turned into an Asian dragon, another fire cannon turned into a dog standing on its hind legs. And so on and so forth.
I had to make some adjustments so the skins didn't interfere with the movements, but - the client pays, so any whim is her money.
...I'll send the video over to the Badasses Club later.

Crooked arrived in several trucks, with a couple dozen of his men. Mostly regular (gangster) looking, just two midgets, and one brute, big and muscular, but still within the range of what you'd find on Earth under normal circumstances.
Here was the boss himself...
No, Crooked Arm was also large within the norm, seemingly even just under two meters. However, his left arm was grotesquely large, a mutation that I had encountered a couple times before, though in those cases the arm was right-handed. Plus unlike previous instances, the bandit's second arm was not shrunken, but quite normal.
Despite the as-yet-diplomatic encounter, the bandits were all armed - obviously. On this goddamn planet, even people go to visit well armed... hell, even to the restroom. And despite the fact that I'd specially prepared the conference table so that it could be instantly toppled and covered or thrown at my opponents, the presence of an armed mob of bandits nearby was unnerving.
A natural human reaction. No one likes guns waving around.
"Well, almost nobody," I corrected myself, remembering Brick.
I kept my eyes on the bandits, but I turned my attention to Lily Rose. The girl, who had seemed generally polite and civil these days, despite her antics, was now... I'd say, radiating self-confidence.
- You've been a bad boy, Donnie Mac - she said, putting her foot behind her leg. - Why did you kidnap his highness Teddy? It wasn't good.
- He'll be better off in my place - the big man muttered. Uh, is it just me, or does his voice sound a little guilty? The girl tsked.
- You didn't behave well, Donnie - she said. - You broke the contract.
I frowned. Definitely, I'm missing something... She talks to him like they know each other well. And the "contract" part is the peace treaty with Dean...?
- That deserves to be punished. You don't want to be punished, do you, Donnie?
The man shook his head like he was hypnotized. Shit. You'd have to believe in witchcraft or some kind of psychic emitter. Official spokesmen and scientists online deny their existence so vehemently that you have to wonder...
- In that case, just bring His Highness back...
The bandit twitched and suddenly pounded his fist on the table, nearly knocking it over.
- NO!!! Tell Dean that he missed his opportunity and now His Highness is in my hands!
One of the thugs leaned over to the seated boss's ear and spoke... in a normal voice, so it was perfectly audible.
- Hey, boss, she's from a rich family, right? She should be well paid for.
- Oh, here we are at the key point of the negotiations - I murmured contentedly. It was quiet, but the bandit leader heard me.
- Which one? - He asked.
- The one where we're trying to kill each other - I explained.
- Oh - said Crooked Hand. He glanced between the girl and me, nodded appreciatively.
Then he opened fire.

I can't say that the fight was easy. Crooked Hand's guys - and especially him - were tough assholes, some of them had shields, and they left a couple of men at the turrets of their vehicles (there are vehicles without turrets on Pandora, but I didn't see them much).
Still, we had the edge in turrets. As well as grenades.
The grenades given by the Firestorm modifier (orange, from Maliwan) looked like toys, little pumpkins with lights in their carved eyes and mouths, classic Halloween decorations. However, they were not toys at all: just a few grenades not only did not seem to halve the number of enemies, but in addition the fire clouds prevented them from aiming accurate fire. We - mainly me and the turrets - had it easier: there were more bandits, and my smart visor helped.
However, my small army of turrets played the main role. My clever girls first concentrated fire on the nearest enemies on this side of the wall of fire, including Crooked Hand, and then began to shoot at the rest through the scattering flames. Actually, I only supported them a little, focusing on defense. Picking up the girl, and trying to ignore the unnerving laughter with which she was emptying the cartridge blocks of her SGs with both hands, I dragged her to cover.
Her bear, by the way, did his part, including wrecking two cars before he was shot down. Lily didn't worry about the latter, though, just kept firing.
...and all of a sudden it appeared that--
- Are the bandits gone?
I looked up from my hiding place and nodded.
- All of them? - The girl asked.
- Well, in the immediate neighborhood - I said. And, noticing the disappointment in her eyes, I clarified. - But there are plenty of them on Pandora, enough for our share. The question is: what about the hostage? Where to look for him?
- The hostage? - The girl asked again. There was a look of understanding in her eyes. - Oh. Well, I think Donny took him with him. Wouldn't let him out of his sight for long, from what I could tell.
I frowned and glanced at the cars the bandits had arrived in. Two that had fallen victim to the robot bear - back to its usual small size - had been turned into scrap metal, another was smoking quietly, probably hit by Maliwan's "magic," and the last one was lying upside down. That's where Lily headed.
- There, just as I said - she said, leaning out of the cabin.
...О. Of course. What else could one expect from this absurd planet with its insane inhabitants.
The girl was holding a teddy bear with a golden crown.

 

[HelioBM]

My recent adventures - both sidequests, I suppose it would be quite accurate to call them that, and progression on the "main quest" - have given me two levels, and two skill points. And if the first I invested quickly enough, and without much thought, reaching "Basic Military Training" to the maximum, the second again made me rack my brains. The problem is that the list of available choices has expanded: after investing five points in a skill branch, the next tier with its own set of skills was opened. Specifically, in the Life Support branch, these were "Thorough Search," "Hoarding," and "Keep Your Fingers Out!". The first promised additional trophies, the second - expansion of inventory (probably AlBa will send additional memory modules for ECHO?...), the third... hmm, the third after the skirmishes with the Eridian guards looked quite tempting, because it increased resistance to shock damage. Against this background, the skills from the Construct branch looked... peculiar. Only two, "You to me, I to you" and "What do we have inside?". The first one would have been extremely valuable some time ago, before I got a fabricator: it was the same skill that was so tempting in the time when I counted every cartridge, allowing me to secretly get them from Vladoff's warehouses through the turret. Now... Now it paled greatly against the competition.
The second skill, given the presence of Lily Rose, should definitely not have been taken. All the matter is that judging by the description it was outright magic, in the style of the general absurdity of Pandora. No, description of the skill, for a change, mentioned a certain effect of "information chaos", and gave a link to a description of it in the network, but I understand that this is just a manifestation of the game feature in a more or less real world, and probably a manifestation of the sense of humor of my deity-"patron"...
Anyway, when destroying my turrets, there was a chance that any equipment that might have been installed in them could be recovered from the wreckage.
The key word is "any", not "installed".
Simply put, you could extract from a wrecked turret, say, a shotgun instead of an installed pistol. Or a pistol, but of a different model and manufacturer.
One can imagine what the girl's reaction to that would be if she noticed.
...On the other hand, I still don't have much faith that she'll be persuaded anyway... Hmm.
...Hmm. Bloodwing definitely has a similar ability.
In the end, I still opted for a skill from the "Deconstruction" branch, namely "Shieldlessness".
Guardians really stress me out.

- Shield, power shield, I mean, is specific shit. They're not really isotropic as they seem, but it's not so easy to notice and use vulnerabilities without special devices, and if we're going to do it, we'll do it only with those who will live to see it. For now, let's learn the simplest ways to effectively fight against shields and their users, which, hopefully, can be mastered even by such dumbasses as those who decided to go to engineering and infantry troops instead of, say, mechanic-drivers. For starters, perpendicular shots are more effective than oblique glancing shots....

...Wow. There was almost no absurdity in that memory, just useful knowledge, including the ability to play dead... uh, why it was here?..
Well, in any case, I've become a little more experienced and effective in combat. A small step for an engineer, a significant step for a hitman, somehow. With that, my opponents' chances of survival decrease, and vice versa.

After Lily Rose had demonstrated that she was capable of causing a war and then successfully preventing it, she could be considered a full-fledged Pandorian - at least, if I had the authority to give out that title, I wouldn't spare it.
...Hmm. It's worth pitching the idea of this title to the Club of the Badasses.
In any case, the girl had enough badassery and fighting ability that she didn't really need my supervision. I wondered, by the way?, why did a girl from a rich - VERY rich - family suddenly master fighting so well? I didn't bother asking, though - I didn't need to get closer. Marriage would not work anyway... and I have certain doubts that it would be worth it, even if. After all, I'm not going to stay in this universe, am I? I'm not, am I?

- Mom did most of it herself, through running a business and taking down the competition - the girl was a little shaky from the drink, so her bear had to support her, but her speech was still clear. - So that's what she taught me. But I think it's boring, I want to live with fire.
She waved her fire SG, and fired a short burst into the ceiling.
- I want something... magical. I don't know, rain of fire and sulfur, demonic legions... though no, they can't compare to our lawyers anyway. A moon made of cheese... nah, been there. Well, at least seduce a vampire and knock his fangs out for harassment. Romance...
The girl waved her second SG, and the robot bear carefully, despite its large clawed paws, took the weapon from her mistress's hands before she trashed anything else.
- Usually, in terms of "magical" and "romantic," girls talk about a prince on a white horse - I remarked. Lily Rose cringed.
- On a diamond pony - she snorted. - I can't stand aristocrats. Nasty, smug, puffed-up, arrogant....
The girl thought for a moment, and started counting on her fingers.
- ...well, to hell with them - Lily finished after about five seconds. - They shouldn't even be processed into biomass. And Aurelia Hammerlock first of all. That asshole stole the artifact right out from under my nose! If you see her, shoot her, make the girl feel good.
She's thinking about it.
- Hmm. About pleasing... How about doing something naughty?
I raised an eyebrow.
- I suggest we get back to this conversation in the morning, when you're sober.
- Nah - Lily shook her head. - The most satisfying ideas come to me when I'm drunk, and I wouldn't have thought of them if I were sober.
She looked around, noticed a few other people in the bar and the owner, leaned over to me and whispered in my ear:
- Put a big neon sign on the roof saying that Moxie was looking for a husband and would marry the winner of the Arena.
I glanced at Moxie. She glanced at me and stroked her chin thoughtfully with two fingers.
- I think she's listening - I said.
- No, I didn't hear anything you were whispering about - the hostess said, and I could tell she was trying to get some free publicity at Lily's expense.
- Well, let's do it before she figures it out - she said and stood up.
I shrugged.
- If you pay for the work...
I don't care which of the two of them pays - money is money. Though it's a shame I can't charge both of them.

As expected, Moxie not only didn't look annoyed this morning, but she was even pleased. Hell, she'd even run that ad on Echonet, as it immediately turned out....
I was about to leave the bar - I already had a job, and that was the main reason I'd been coming here since I'd gotten my own place - but I noticed Roland at a table in the corner. Ex-Atlas waved his hand invitingly, and I decided to approach him.
Hmm.
- Is something wrong? - I asked. The soldier looked... not so much frowning as pensive-something in between.
- Atlas's forces have arrived on Pandora - he informed me. I frowned. This was really unpleasant news.
- Are there any more details?
"Incoming call, caller: Angel."
I raised an eyebrow, but Roland was the first to react, taking the call on his own ECHO: apparently the AI had contacted both of us at the same time.
- Hello, I have news worthy of your attention: the Atlas have landed one of their armies near the old Dahl Fort, and are now fortifying there. According to the communications I intercepted, they're interested in Dr. Patricia Tannis.
That's where I really frowned. It's like the plot's suddenly taken off.
- It's also the forward units, especially the Crimson Lance Division, recieve bounty orders for deserter Roland - Angel continued.
- That's why you need to cover yourself with official papers... - I muttered, more to myself than to Roland. I was surprised that AlBa had exempted my backstory from that. On the other hand, I'm still "on the hook" for the corporation - but there's an upside to that.
- There is good news, however - Angel reported. - I've managed to locate an Eridian relic linked to the Vault with a high degree of probability. I'm transmitting the coordinates to your ECHOs. Good luck, I'll contact you if I get any new relevant information.
The hologram is gone.
A quick review showed that the coordinates it had reset matched one of the locations Tannis had indicated. Hmm.
- What are you planning? - I asked Roland; he was frowning, staring at his fists.
- I'd rather not fight the Crimson Lance as much as possible - he answered. - Do you suppose they're looking for the Vault?
- Well, obviously, they're not going to mount a major operation because of one deserter, no offense - I said. - Plus, they're interested in Tannis, I don't think she's useful for anything else. Wait a minute...
I gave the ECHO a few mental commands, and quickly reviewed the information I received.
- Yup, I knew it. Atlas has been doing poorly lately, with problems on all fronts, so I guess they're betting on the Vault - if they can get it, they can move up.
- That's not good - Moxie said. Huh. I didn't notice at all when she was next to me at the table... - Correct me if I'm wrong, darlings, but this isn't good for either of us.
I shrugged.
- Yeah, but what can you do? It's not like a few people, even if they're super pros, can handle an entire corporate army. The only thing to do is find the Vault ahead of them and clean it out.
- Hmmm... - Moxie stretched out thoughtfully and erotically, raising, shall we say, morale. - You know, sugar, something can always be done, everyone has their weaknesses. And something you yourself have already suggested quite sensibly. If you're interested in my opinion... If the corps is convinced that the Vault exists - it probably does exist. And if it does exist, why give its contents to the corporations? Brave guys like you obviously have more use for it. And if they're looking for Tannis - you'd help a damsel in distress, wouldn't you? I guess that's enough to get you started. In the meantime, I'll see what else I can do.
She stood up, gave Roland and me air kiss, and walked back to the counter.
The soldier and I looked at each other.
- I've already told you I have some leads on the Vault - I said. - But it's all going through Patricia Tannis. If we don't have her, we don't have a lead to the Vault.
- So we have to get her out first - Roland nodded. - Roger that.
- One more thing. The coordinates Angel dropped. If I understand correctly, there is an Eridian artifact, or rather a part of it, connected to the Vault. It could be nothing, but it's a strong possibility. And, again, I could be wrong, but it's worth getting it too, ahead of Atlas.
- So we should split up - said the soldier. Now I nodded.
- If we don't want to waste time. And if we're going to do it at all.
- The alternative is to leave Pandora - said Roland. - I'd be charged as a deserter, you as a competitor. In both cases, the most likely outcome would be execution on sight.
I grimaced and nodded.
- Good. Do you have any more information?

In the end, we decided that Roland would do the artifact retrieval, for which I gave him a video with images of previous shards. His reasoning was that he'd rather face the Eridian guards than his former coworkers (and I'd rather do the opposite), plus I'd already dealt with Tannis, and it would be easier for me to convince her that she was under threat... which isn't really a fact. Still, she's a valuable specialist who doesn't need the Vault and its contents, just her research. In any case, the ex-Atlas fighter's considerations were reasonable, and I agreed.
He left immediately, and I... suddenly realized that I had no idea where to find Tannis: we had only communicated with her through the network.
Shit. This is embarrassing.

- Oh, you're just in time! I was just about to contact you.
Instead of the archaeologist's face, the ECHO displayed something... I couldn't figure out what it was for a few seconds, until I realized: tight pants-clad buttocks, close-up. I was talking to Tannis's ass, and I have no idea how she managed to pull that off, considering the ECHO - at least mine - always displayed either the face of the caller or "caller hidden."
- My mom told me not to mess with adventurous women, probably - I said. - But I didn't listen to her, and where did that get me? To Pandora.
Tannis turned sharply, and... uh, instead of buttocks, her breasts were in focus. Which makes it clear she didn't set up the avatar herself.
- I could share fascinating stories of falling to the bottom all day long, but alas, we don't have much time, entropy does not slumber - she informed me. - Every second the heat death of the universe is getting closer... it's so exciting!
The last she said with a playful trill.
- Well, fuck it. I have a job for you, another Eridian record needs to be saved from the vandals.
I nodded.
- I will. But first, one more thing. Atlas forces have landed on Pandora--
- FINALLY! - the woman interrupted me, her tits jiggling with joy. - I applied for the damn grant six months ago!
I mentally went through my options for an explanation, and concluded that explanations weren't the way to go.
- They're not going to pay you - I informed them. - They just want the results of your research.
Tannis frowned... uh, wait - how do I know that?
I stared at her tits. They stared at me. The mystery continued to be a mystery.
- WHAT? NO WAY! My research should not go to savages who don't have at least three degrees! Though I'm willing to interview savages with three degrees - she said thoughtfully. She paused. - Okay, I'll lay low on bottom. Or not, it's damp and difficult with oxygen.
- I'd invite you to my place, but my mom wouldn't approve of sharing a room with a woman who can't cook. Probably - I said. - But if you have any idea where you can hide out until the Atlasians get off the planet, I'd be willing to help.
- Your mom's a wise woman - Tannis said. - I suppose. Does she want a daughter-in-law, by the way? I don't really have anyone in mind, though. I think I'll just bury myself in one of the skag holes - it's pretty cozy if you curl up, pretend you're in bed, and don't wake the skag. They have a pretty nasty burp.
- ...On the other hand, you might as well learn to cook - I remarked. - It's never too late to learn new skills.
It's never too late to have a story character eaten by skags. It's unlikely, of course, but... with Tannis, anything seems possible.
- Are you sure? - The woman asked. - I have a couple of nice skag dens in mind, and I have a very good relationship with their owner - he's barely tried to bite my legs off the last couple days.
No, of course not.
- Yes, of course. Where can I pick you up from?
...I'm pretty sure I'm going to regret this.

 

[HelioBM]

Obviously, I wasn't going to move this... archaeologist into my little house. Fortunately, building a house on Pandora is a simple matter, even without specialized tools, and I had access to adequate digital construction equipment. The land was free... well, it had its subtleties, but Moxie, who held the territory, didn't mind and didn't demand payment. Scrap metal and stone - almost everywhere, wood... well, it's a bit more complicated: Pandora is not a forest planet, and stuff like electrocactus is not suitable for construction, at least not without a license to process it into something acceptable. Still, with the FTS network in place and the complete lack of any control, it wasn't a problem at all. Actually, I always have a stock of wood and other resources - the fabricator is always hungry. Figuratively speaking.
...I hope so.

- Chief, sorrow and disaster are coming to this sinful land - Pastor told me when I showed up at my warehouse. The vacuum cleaner was keeping watch over the perimeter of what had been a mini-career that had become a colony-settlement, and now was gradually transforming into an almost normal - for Pandora - work camp, so it was possible but unnecessary to appear unnoticed.
- Lay it out - I answered, reloading the wood into my storage area. Network access in and around the settlement was restricted to make it harder to steal.
- As the tower of Babel fell and discord fell among men, so now the shadow of war fell from misunderstanding and disagreement. Several conflicting factions have arisen in the settlement, and strife is brewing, - the robot reported. - And if the conflict between the Holers and Piters you can still extinguish, I suppose, but the naturals and instants...
The vacuum cleaner made a sound like a heavy sigh. It also sucked up some garbage.
- Natural people and what? - I asked suspiciously. That's all I needed, just one more snake-eater....
- Instants - the robot repeated. - Chief, the shepherd who sleeps shall not see his flock. You need to be more aware of your enterprise.
The last one sounded reproachful.
- Business... - I answered. - Shootouts, megacorporations, ancient civilizations - it's distracting. But that's why I left you here, to keep you in the loop.
- Well, that's true - Pastor agreed. - I mean, there's a place for the Lord, and there's a place for his prophets.
- Anyway, don't drag it out. What kind of perverts have formed here?
- Holers are those who think that the settlement should be called Hole - answered the vacuum cleaner, apparently, having decided that he had already given out the norm of religious sayings. Or he just didn't have the right quote... - The Piters, respectively, want to call it Pit.
I raised an eyebrow.
- And they're willing to fight over that?
- An idle mind is the refuge of darkness, which gives birth to monsters. Idleness breeds malice.
I got the impression that if the vacuum cleaner had shoulders, he would have shrugged them off.
- Yeah, well, what else do you expect from the locals - I muttered, rubbing my temples. - Okay, I think I can handle this one. What about the other two groups?

Well, after the war over the teddy bear, it wasn't surprising.
...Who am I kidding? If this kind of absurdity stops surprising and pissing me off, it will mean that my case is bad and I'm too imbued with Pandora. Although on Earth too, religious fanatics have killed each other over utter nonsense time and time again, but still - bloodshed over which coffee is the only acceptable, boiled or instant? Seriously? All we have to do is create a cult of coffee surrogates.

- I've gathered you all to resolve the issues that have been creating friction in our little enterprise - I announced, standing in front of the assembled thugs who had been reclassified as laborers. Some of them didn't even look like they were raised by wild punks anymore, plus there were no weapons... guns, I mean - they all had picks, hammers, or something similar. It's very uncomfortable on Pandora without weapons, I know.
- What's he saying? - Someone in the crowd asked. By this time I had about three dozen workers, of both sexes and all types, from dwarfs to big men.
- We will be beaten - answered another, who was a dwarf. And explained:
- To keep us quiet.
I ignored them and continued.
- For starters, the quarrels over the name of the settlement. What are you people even think, Pit, Hole? Do you want to live in a pit or die in a hole? No! Our company is about opportunity! Opportunities for personal and career growth! So we'll call it Quareer.
People started to look at each other.
Then someone applauded. Another one, the next... Not everyone joined in, at least not at once, but soon the effect was achieved. All I had to do was give them a pie and tell them to applaud when I said the name.
I waited until the raucous, prolonged applause subsided, nodded, and continued.
- The name board will be posted as soon as possible... today.
Another round of applause, shorter this time.
- Our meeting will now consider the second question. Will the representatives of the parties please come forward?
After a pause, the usual punkish thug, with traces of paint on his face, and a big guy... wearing a monocle?
- I asked the speaker of the instants to present his argumentation - I said.
The punk looked around, glanced at me; I nodded.
- Explain why you have a conflict.
The bandit brow furrowed.
- What about them? Fucking aesthetes! Instant coffee is cool, you pour it, pour it, stir it, and enjoy it. But these motherfuckers want "process", "flavor", "what do you know about the drink of the gods"... ugh!
He glared angrily at the rival representative, clenching his fists. Approving mutterings were heard in the crowd that was stratifying in front of his eyes, met with glances of disapproval from the other side.
- What do you say? - I asked the big man.
- I say that I feel sorry for the inferior degenerates who can't understand the taste of real coffee, and who have the tongue to compare instant coffee with it - he said, raising his head arrogantly.
- Hmm... - I stretched out. - I understand both your positions. But why don't you let your opponents make their own mistake if you think it's a mistake? Just quietly feel satisfied that someone is stupider than you.
- Nah, boss, it's a matter of principle - the punk shook his head.
- I can't believe it, but I agree with this... slopdrinker - the big guy joined him.
- What did you call me?!
- STOP! - I shouted. - You may hold your own views, but there is to be no fighting about it in my enterprise! Learn to tolerate each other, and until you can't - everyone is transferred to tea!
...Oops. Perhaps that statement was a mistake.
I was prepared for that, though, and as the angry crowd swarmed, the modified turrets opened fire.

The tranquilizer and gas cannons borrowed from Dr. Zed were doing their job, but I think I had underestimated the fury of the coffee drinkers: it took double or even triple the dose of tranquilizer to knock them off their feet, and the cold weapons in their hands took down the first row of turrets in one or two seconds before the slightly thinner human wave reached them.
However, although I had fewer tranquilizer guns than I would have liked, I had more than enough rubber bullets, plus one strategically placed freeze gun. Plus the gas covered almost everyone, it just didn't work right away.
And I didn't stand on the sidelines, I was knocking out those who were aiming at the turrets with Zed cannons - I still have to return them, they cost money. This robber took a hefty bail...
Despite the reducing ranks, the people came with the fury of a berserker who had lost his most precious possession. Fortunately, while the rage added to their resilience and strength, it took away their strategic thinking and cooperation skills, so despite the increased threat level, and the continued loss of turrets, the advantage remained on my side.
After all, I was the only one who came to this fight with a gun. And not just single.

- ...And for the attempted rebellion and attack on the boss for the next week tea will be without sugar - I finished to the recovered frowning bandits.
- I told you - we will be beaten - satisfied, despite the bruises from rubber bullets, said the dwarf to his neighbor.

 

[Alex_Hellfire]

Haha silly bandit need to beat some sense into them the superior drink is TEA!! ️

Thanks for the chappie

 

[HelioBM]

Haha silly bandit need to beat some sense into them the superior drink is TEA!! ️

Click to shrink...

But with sugar, at least

Thanks for the chappie

Click to shrink...

 

[HelioBM]

The incident in the Quareer didn't really take up much of my time, and soon I was in the process of erecting uncle's Sam... er, I mean archaeologist's hut. Floor-walls-ceiling, bunk-chair-table... well, that's enough of that, I guess. Amenities are extra charge. Payment with body... I don't take it.
Tannis has a nice figure, though, yeah. But "don't stick it in crazy", is the rule. Even taking into account the fact that it is problematic to find someone on Pandora who is definitely not crazy, I will try to stick to it. I mean not to stick.
Anyway, the cabin's ready. Time to move the archaeologist in.
I feel like I'm going to fucked up, and I'm not going to get away with the headache I already have.

- ...Unfortunately, we couldn't find any indications on the reasons for the disappearance of the Eridians, which is understandable - all the records found so far refer to a period long before that, and there is a suspicion that by the time of the disappearance the psychic imprints we used in the stone had ceased to be created. Still, even so, there's enough information for years and years of work....
As it turns out, when Tannis talks about her work, she sounds like a normal person. Well, like normal... A desperate nerd, but in her case, it's a serious improvement over her usual communication style. She seemed to be taking full advantage of the opportunity to talk, and while some of the flow of this verbal river was lost to me due to unfamiliarity with the terms or whatever, I was still listening with interest, which seemed to be the only thing my passenger needed.
- Personally, based on the sources I've already received on Pandora, I believe - I'm almost certain - that this planet was something like a testing ground for various biotechnological developments. In the records I read, there were a fair number of references to... - her rapid flow of speech took a brief pause - combat tests? Drills? Shows? Lots of ambiguous concepts, pretty vague. But skags are definitely designed by them, though for what purpose, I'm not sure. A moderately successful mass-produced project, something like that.
- What's the most successful one? - I managed to get a question in.
- Not a bad question, and one I hope to get an answer to. Skags are marvelous creatures, so it would be curious to look at something that far surpasses them.
Personally, I was interested in terms of "knowing what to avoid", but... I have to admit, I'm genuinely curious.
- As I understand it, the Eridians have begun to approach the limits of what can be accomplished by biology alone... or at least "the biology we're used to". So some kind of cyborgs, perhaps...? Or perhaps something more exotic? Oh, if you meet one - don't be a barbarian, don't kill this undoubtedly marvelous creature. Though, of course, I have little reason to rely on your sanity....
...
No comment.

- How wonderfully nostalgic - Tannis said, glancing at the cottage that had been built for her. - The janitor at the academy used to keep his brooms in a shack like this. Are there rats in there? - She turned to me. I shook my head in the negative. - If there are no rats, then what's for lunch?
I almost said 'whoever you catch', but... it's Pandora, damn it. So instead I jabbed my finger toward the bar.
- If you don't have any, ask Moxie, the bar hostess. She'll either rip you off or load you up with work, but she'll feed you. - I hesitated. - On principle, I should talk to her, too.

- You're just in time, Mr. Dyatlov - said Moxie. - I have some news about our business together.

While Tannis played peek-a-boo with the sausages - probably skaggy - I chatted with the tit... bar hostess.
Moxie had laid out a rarity on the table: a paper map of Pandora. Not the entire planet, just a single region, but even those are rarely used; usually the ECHO projects a ground plan of the immediate vicinity, and travel is based on FTS, not geography. Local specificity, one manifestation of it. It's not that Pandora maps don't exist, Dahl made them - and their satellites still remain in orbit - it's just that there's usually no need.
Now, however, was a special case.
- The Atlas base is here now - Moxie tapped the map with a finger with a manicure phenomenally good for Pandora. - Just south of the Crossroads station. A little bird in her beak had brought word that Atlas had invested most of their remaining resources into this operation, and if it failed they would cease to be not only a threat, but even just a player.
I raised an eyebrow.
- And you think it's possible to pull something off that would make them screw up, tuck tail, and run away?
- Quite, dearie - the woman informed me. - I'd say more than likely.
- You want to put some big gangs on them? - I skeptically suggested. - Lady, I'm not really familiar with the Crimson Lance and other Atlas special forces, not counting Roland, but I can't imagine a situation in which they won't take down the bandits. Even if with casualties.
- That's why I have something better - Moxie said languidly and with a smile. - There's no need to make a big war when you can strike one blow at the right point.
- So. - I said suspiciously. - You don't mean me by "something better," do you? I'm tough, but not that tough.
- Not just you... - Moxie shook her head. - You can do it, sugar, I believe in you. All you have to do is get in, turn on the self-destruct system, and escape with the treasure.
- The treasure? - I sat back in my chair. Moxie nodded.
- That's right, sugarplum. Crimson Fort is not only Atlas's stronghold on Pandora, but also their arsenal and storehouse of finances. If done right, it could be an opportunity to get out of trouble and make some very, very good money.
Shit. Go away, devil's temptation. Caution and discretion are paramount.
But money still is money!..

Crossroads Station, despite its name, is not at a crossroads. The Dahl had once planned to make one, but didn't have time, and at the time of their departure from the planet, Crossroads was an unloading station. Literally and psychologically, it was a spaceport, taking minerals and seafood from the planet, as well as various entertainment for the corporation's employees. Now it was a remnant of civilization at the point between nowhere and somewhere.
The changes were even more comprehensive than one might think: suffice it to say that previously, only ten years ago, there had been a small, mostly shallow, but still sea to the north. Pandora. A planet where even geography is unpredictable.
I stood by the road, crinkling my nose at the sand grains the cold wind was throwing in my face, and looked up at the machine shop building where I'd have to meet the other Moxie Men.
The picture wasn't impressive. Neither was the situation.
I sighed and stepped forward. It could have been a lot worse, really. There were no bullet marks on the building, there was power, and even the doors were in place - what more could I want?

- Oh, hey, man! - A grubby guy of a hard-to-define age, between fifteen and thirty, in clothes stained with machine oil, crawled out from under the half-disassembled car and smiled at me cheerfully, albeit a bit moronically. - Mommy sent you, didn't she?
"Scooter," - the ECHO obligingly reported. - "Genius mechanic. Even without drugs."
- Mommy? - I interjected.
- Uh-huh, Moxie - he eagerly responded, and I rubbed my temples. Shit. How old is she, anyway?
...Nah, I'm not gonna ask.
All right. No.
- Yeah, but aren't you being a little, uh, reckless? - I asked him, looking at his belt. Not even a gun. - There's bandits around.
- Nope, - he brushed it off - i've got camouflaged turrets all over the place..
О! Our man.
- Your father isn't a from Vladoff, is he? - I chuckled.
- No, he was from the Zaford clan - he said, and then the door opened again. I turned my head and saw a wide, girlish smile on his face.
Lily Rose. Don't tell me this is the best Moxie could find.
- It's going to be a great adventure, Magister! - said the girl quite contentedly. - I even ordered a new staff for it!
In her hands she held a Maliwan sniper rifle, which really looked like a staff because of its long barrel, narrow buttstock, and small handle.
"A staff without a knob, Legendary quality." - The ECHO said, and I noticed the inscription on the barrel: "I twist and turn, zap and burn".
I looked from the gun to the girl, and then the door opened for the third time in a minute.
- Welcome back, amigo! - Slippery Jim announced. He looked at Lily. - Oh, what a beauty! And what a girl!
- I see - I muttered. - Well, that's something to work with. I hope so.

 

[HelioBM]

- Well, people, situation is such, - Scooter said, looking at Lily Rose with a sneaky and very obvious glance. - The Lance have set up a roadblock on the road, blocking the only way to the Crimson Citadel.
- And go around it? - Lily asked.
- Tower turrets - explained the mechanic. - Well, as usual. Either by road or by air. But by air... our aviation sucks.
Lily was in thought, obviously about her broom, but cringed when she realized the limitations of its carrying capacity.
- How well are it blocked? - That was Jim. - What about stealthily pass through, bribe, distract?
Scooter shook his head furiously with such force that if he'd had a hat, it would have fallen off.
- Hopeless. No, if you want you can take a look for yourself, maybe you'll see something, but the plan is different. You're gonna need a tank. Here, check this out.
He slapped the ECHO on his belt, activating the holographic interface, ran his fingers over it, and a projection of, uh, an armored vehicle appeared in front of us. About twice the size of the truck I used in my enterprise, with a couple of cannons and a catapult. Hmm.
- It's not a tank - Lily voiced the obvious. - They have bigger trunks.
- It's not the size that matters, it's how you use the thing - Jim said, glancing at me.
I thought of several ways of saying something funny and stupid, but decided that this team needed someone with some common sense. Just homeless killers is OK - that's an ancient, respected occupation. But killer clowns is a circus.
- Let's go with APC, in this case it's not a big deal. Are you suggesting we fight our way out? It's suicide, even if the armor can withstand their fire, they will warn the citadel, and our only chance is surprise and unexpectedness.
- It's a little trickier - Scooter replied. - Mo... I mean, the car ain't the only thing that's gonna make a difference. These dudes, Lance, I mean, just arrived recently, they haven't had time to do everything thoroughly. They got radio communications, heavy weapons only hand grenade launchers, defense installments powered by a couple of their own generators. If we hit them with an EMP, they'll be out of power for a while, and then we can either take a prisoner and make them report to the Citadel that everything's okay, or we can figure something out ourselves.
- We could even make a false call for backup to draw some of the Citadel's forces away - Jim said thoughtfully. - There are options, though it won't be simple. Getting someone from the Crimson Lance to send a false signal won't be easy if you don't have your own man inside beforehand.
Lily, like a schoolgirl, extended her hand.
- Can I do, can I do...?
- "Can do" what? - I asked.
- Torture! - The girl explained with a happy smile. - In my house, it is generally forbidden, and I'm a decent girl, so I've never had the chance. And here is such an opportunity!
...No, I don't think I'll marry her after all.
I looked at Jim. He shrugged.
- Well, I don't mind giving in to the girl, he said. - In fact, if there are enough survivors, we can have a contest to see who can do it first.
...Fuck. What a mess I've gotten myself into.
It's a relief at least Claptrap not here.

- Uh, boss, what are you doing here? - this absurd robot had the nerve to ask my question in surprise.
I came face to face with Claptrap, figuratively speaking, when I was scouring a large abandoned garage where a small pride of skags had set up, looking for a few parts Scooter needed to build an EMP bomb and an armored car. You can imagine my surprise.
- What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Yellowrock - I said. - Don't tell me it's your twin brother, I can see your ID.
- Is anyone going to let me use the twin brother line? - the robot asked grudgingly. - But okay, boss, you got it. It takes a lot of money to establish power over the world, so here I am, moonlighting.
He demonstrated a small broom. Obviously, this explanation is lame, even for Pandora, but....
"Incoming call from unknown caller," said the ECHO. Huh. Curious.
I raised my hand toward Claptrap, indicating to wait, and took the call.
- This is A, the informant in the Crimson Lance - reported an obviously synthesized male voice. - If Moxie hasn't alerted about me, you may request confirmation.
- I wil - I replied, opening a parallel call line.
- I'll contact you again in three minutes - the voice said and disconnected. I waited a few seconds.
- Yes, darling.
- And if I wanted to ask for money? - I asked.
- We'd discuss the percentage, obviously - Moxie replied. - But you're about the team and the informant, I suppose.
- Only the second, actually - I said. - A synthesized male voice, called 'A', said you should have warned me.
- Sorry, sugar, business deal, you know how it is... Yes, I can confirm, A is a good contact to deal with. In fact, this contact has critical information, so try to get along, okay?
- As long as they're not trying to kill me, I'm willing to cooperate - I noted. Then I remembered Kincaid. - And even when they do, there are still options... But it's more expensive.
Moxie blew me a kiss and broke the connection.
I looked back at Claptrap and found that the robot had managed to slip away. The main thing was to keep it out of the way and not die, but except it - whatever.

"A" promised to supply us with important information, and began with an internal plan of the Crimson Citadel, showing key locations like the armory, treasury, and self-destruct system (why is it there, anyway? Purely for plot purposes, so players can destroy everything?), and a few digital keys. He promised to get the most important ones later, without mentioning payment. Moxie's probably paying. In general, it all boiled down to the fact that while we were mining materials for the armored car and the bomb, the informant agent would get the keys.

How do you get resources on Pandora? The answer is always "Bandits." Well, or "Bandits and Skags." I can attest, I have experience and my own enterprise. Even in an abandoned garage, where it seemed the only critters were skags (and a few skythids under the floor), I came across one making a home in an old refrigerator. This freezer man nearly killed me with a skag ham on a bone, which he swung like a club with such force, in spite of his tiny stature, that it pierced the floor. That's where the Scythids came out, and they distracted him for a second, just long enough for me to slip away: he ignored the few bullets he fired at the undersized man, despite his lack of shield.
Nails made from such people would be the strongest nails in the world, except for the adamantine ones from the Vladoff.
However, the bandits our team had gone to together to get the missing materials were much more... within the bounds of human strength.
We had two rifles, a bear, and endless grenades. I knew I'd switch to mines at some point as well; there's nothing more satisfying than relaxedly sipping coffee while watching enemies try to mine their way to the turrets under sniper fire. We had to make do with stretches for now, but even so my companions agreed that it was a good picnic that would be nice to repeat.
Lily Rose's "staff", by the way, turned out to be an interesting piece of equipment. A dual-mode rifle that could switch between electricity and fire, against shields and flesh, with fire - plasma? - "bullets" also exploded slightly, and the electric ones made the bandits twitch funny.
Uh-huh. I think I've really messed with a bad company that's a bad influence on me.

- Is that it, or do you need anything else? - I asked, piling a third pile on the floor in front of Scooter, complete with LR and Jim's piles. Piles in a good sense, of looted stuff.
- Let me see... - the grimy mechanic muttered and almost dived into the pile of materials. - Oooooh, nice! They even had a fourth issue of Mecha-assholes and Electrofetishists!
- What did you say? - I asked, hoping I'd misheard.
- I'm saying that you can't find such engines without a license - the guy said. Yeah, you heard me... "My internal combustion's sister"! With additional illustrations?!...? Wow!
...Fuck it, let it be.

- Sorry to bother you, sugar, but there's been an unforeseen complication. - Moxie looked as unfazed as ever. - The informant has a problem.
- I take it we're not calling off the operation? - I asked.
- No, it's not that bad. All you have to do is break into the old prison near the Crossroads and get the informant out of there.
There are times when you want to kill somebody, but then you realize you've done it before, and recently.
I signed.
- All right. How do we find him and identify him?

Normal heroes always take a detour, so this additional task wasn't surprising at all. Jim and Lily were completely at ease with it; for the mercenary it was, like for me, a normal and expected surprise, for the crazy girl - an additional opportunity to "practice Maliwan's special weapon magic" on live targets.
Even the fact that it took another "sidequest" didn't change the picture.
Just getting to the prison was impossible; the Crimson Lance had also blocked the road in that direction, and while this post was quite squishy and breaking through wouldn't be much of a problem, it would raise an alarm that we didn't need: the whole plan to storm the Crimson Citadel relied on surprise and speed before any fuss was made. Unlike the Citadel, there was also another path leading to the prison called the Locked Palace... before. The bridge over the abyss was simply crushed by the Crimson Lance men, so as not to spread their forces to guard another strategic object.
Savages and barbarians that make an engineer's heart bleed. You didn't build it, you don't have to break it...
In any case, such trifles as an abyss of a couple of dozen meters did not stop the reckless Pandorians. When Scooter voiced a new list of requirements, including a small antigrav and a set of plates made of "aviation" alloys, I decided that he wanted to try to build something flying.
Well, almost.

- I thought it was going to be something flying - I said, frowning as I examined the new By Scooter model. It looked like a lightweight Courier. - less armor, thinner frame, a little different suspension - but the engine is more powerful, and it had antigrav. But it's a weak one, and doubtful that it'll allow even such a lightweight design to take to the air.
- Oh, this baby flies - Jim reported. He'd had a chance to try it out, and had taken a seat behind the wheel, so that Lily Rose and I were left to get along in the gunner's nest or on the frame. - Nice car.
- Well, I'll take your word for it - I said doubtfully. Personally, I prefer more armor. And guns. And preferably a good shield.

I had my doubts at first, as soon as I saw the car, but when we pulled up, without slowing down, to the abyss and I saw the structure in front of it... At first I thought it couldn't really be what I thought it was.
Then I sadly remembered that I was on Pandora.
And yet, hope dies last.
- You can't be serious, can you? - I turned to Jim over the hum of the engine. He grinned instead of answering. - Come on, we could just take turns flying over on Lily's broomstick...
- Nope! Not gonna make it - the girl said enthusiastically, and Jim added gas.
And then turned on the accelerator, guiding our transport to the ramp.
- YAHOO!
- OH, YEAH, BABY!
- AAAAAH!

- I think we hit the rakk... - I said with a tremor in my voice. - I-I-I'm s-so sorry for him...
Jim patted my shoulder understandingly.
- Be strong, amigo. You'll remember him on the way back.
I looked at the ramp from this side and nodded.
- Yeah. I'll d-definitely r-remember him.

 

[HelioBM]

I had to come to my senses after Jim's stunt on the road. The car was so light and fast that it was always trying to overturn on the corners, and the fact that there were three passengers instead of two did not improve the situation. It was good that Jim and Lily were thin and lightweight; the two of them should have weighed a little more than me in armor. However, for balance, I took off the armor and put my arm around the girl - for the balance of the car and the ability to stand on it, obviously.
Yes.
Actually, I very rarely take off my armor. If it were fully functional, there would be no need to take it off at all... well, except in special circumstances, like Moxie. Unfortunately, most of the advanced features like body cleansing and climate control are out of commission, and repairs are slow - Vladov's delivery service is famous for its speed... So my cabin has an armored shower stall, and I've had a chance to compare my current body to my old Earth body.
Well, what can I say... All in all, a great trade off. Or rather, an upgrade. Because it was definitely my own body, just improved.
And slightly enlarged.
...I mean muscles, no vulgarity.
Anyway, there were too many distractions, so it's forgivable that I didn't immediately notice... this.
Take, well, a water strider. It's not exact, but it's enough to understand.
And then magnify it by... several thousand times? I'm not sure. Well, to a height of about ten meters.
And such thing walking leisurely on its own up ahead.
What. This. Thing. Is.
Fortunately, asking the question out loud, demonstrating my ignorance, wasn't necessary: I have an ECHO, after all.
…
...Pandora, man. This absurd thing on long legs, brazenly ignoring the laws of biology (but I'm not much better at it myself..... Pandora, lawless planet), is actually a marine creature that could even be called analogous to a... whale? I'd say a mixture of whale and mangrove.
...Yeah. Sounds weird enough even for Pandora.
Anyway, it - they - lived on the shoals and fed on plankton and marine life. Then the sea dried up, - ... - but the drifters, once called "floaters" for the way they rested on the surface of the water with their legs tucked up, stayed. And they've managed to adapt to living on land.
On the plus side, these creatures are relatively peaceful, and don't attack unless you get too close. On the downside, that "too close" isn't so small for their size, and with a kick of their feet they can pierce the armor of even a light tank.
Zerg, my ass.
...Huh. And the Eridians are Protoss. Biomechanical shit with powerful shields. Surely there's no crossover?
I looked suspiciously at the sky, but AlBa didn't react.

...No, that's definitely purely a gaming, decorative piece of shit.
I'm talking about a slightly corroded ship lying on the dry seabed, a little bigger than a boat. How the hell did it get here? Floating along, and suddenly all the water's gone? Seriously, it's not even funny. And someone was talking about realism...
...The ship suddenly rose up, releasing six crab legs on either side of the hull, and scampered away on them. I was sure that no giant crab had just been underneath it.
- Retcon is a cheat - I muttered.
- What do you mean? - Jim asked.
- Never mind, just thinking out loud.

We did have a conflict with one of the drifters - they can be unexpectedly sudden - but for all their size and strength, they're vulnerable. Their legs are made of some kind of super-strong organic shit like an improved version of chitin, and their bodies are covered in it, but they have a few large, noticeable vulnerabilities - gas sacks with soft skin, through which bullets pierce internal organs. Predators like skags can't reach it at this altitude, but bullets don't care. An easy opponent, relatively.

Despite the ever-present threat of Pandorian critters, the road was pretty boring - well, until we got into a little adventure with a rakk who stole LR hat, but that was no big deal either, we just happened to stumble upon a cult of some pyromaniacs. One of them showed some weird powers, but I managed to shoot him before Lily noticed, and most of the others ran away, and fuck them. What important - we got hat back.
However, even this small incident didn't exactly revitalize our journey.
...Pandora is definitely affecting me in a bad way, and having realized it, I spent the rest of the trip trying to introspect, comparing my behavior and reactions "before" and "after", and only listening to Lily asking Jim about shamans of savages. What about the changes that had happened to me was a habit, and what was something else...?
And is it really bothers me? Actually, Pandora is not a place where it makes sense to ask such questions. Valuable resources, including brainpower, should be directed to survival, and other things... well, you can afford them when you are sure that at least in the next couple of hours nobody will try to eat you.
I think so.
- Don't worry, be happy - I muttered under my breath.
- That's right - Jim agreed, to my surprise. - And by the way, we're getting closer. According to the map, it'll be in sight in about ten minutes.
- Finally - I sighed. - We'll have to use more spacious transportation next time. By the way, what's the plan?
Jim and Lily looked at each other.
- I thought you were in charge of this - the driver voiced his thoughts. I sighed again, this time heavily, however-
"Incoming call. Moxie."
- Is something wrong? - I asked, turning on the public call.
- No, I just wanted to ask a favor. A paid one - the lady clarified, which was not unreasonable. - It's a bit personal, but as it happens... The Locked Palace is currently run by someone named Shank.
- ...О. - Jim said.
- Exactly - agreed Moxie.
- And? - our driver asked.
- Yup - Moxie replied.
- And now can we have a translation for those who do not speak a Moximal incomprehensible dialect? - I asked.
- It's just that Moxie's asking me to kill her ex-boyfriend - Jim said.
- The poor guy is, uh, off his rocker - Moxie sighed. - He was going through a bad divorce.
- You were married? - I asked in surprise. The image of our femme fatale nodded.
- For a while. I thought we had a pretty good breakup, but... as life proved, it was a harder blow for him than it seemed at first. So this will be an act of mercy as well as a release from a nuisance.
- I see - I nodded. - And in reality? What is the main reason for this order?
- His current interests cast a shadow over me - the lady didn't try to be sly. I nodded again.
- All right, let's do what we can.
From what I understand from our situation, this guy's into human trafficking, maybe something else equally unpleasant; for all of Moxie's... Pandorian-ness, she's got some principles. So I can understand her.

Here we go. In more ways than one.
I never cease to be amazed at the carelessness of most, majority, Pandorian bandits. No outside surveillance, sentries or alarms. Come whoever you want, do whatever you want... Yeah, sure, there should be a bunch of armed thugs inside the building, but that's no excuse. After all, why would you take over a well-defended facility if you don't take full advantage of it? We quietly drove up without attracting attention; they hadn't even bothered to hang the gate in place - the passage was free.
"Locked Palace, Prison & Bar," read the blue-lamp-lit sign. "& gym," was added a little further back. Right, here we are...

We had several options. A stealthy infiltration, an attempt to negotiate - to ransom the informant, for example - a distraction... All of that went to the dustbin of unrealized stories when Lily grinned and threw her bear cub with ungirlish strength toward the entrance. On the fly, the "toy" began to grow and landed on its four paws in robot battle form. Robogrizzly rushed forward, and the flimsy bars of the front door flew into the hallway, crushed by a teddy bear.
Shit, those idiots didn't even put a couple of machine guns in the straight corridor....
...I love idiots.

There had obviously been attempts at resistance, and not to say that the... peculiarly dressed inhabitants were weaklings. Idiots incapable of organizing an effective cohesive defense, yes, but not weak. Already after the first skirmish the robot-bear began to limp, having received a couple of axe blows that pierced his body; give time, and he could be restored, or even digitally rebuilt, but now he had to hurry, using the inertia of the situation, before the bandits organized themselves. The building, by the way, turned out to be spacious, but riddled with confusion; a small maze like... in the game, yes.
With enemies popping out of all sorts of different, and often quite unexpected, places. What about a bedside table dwarf? Or a regular-sized, just skinny, type from under the bed. With a not-insignificant rocket-propelled grenade launcher tube in his hands. No ECHO or inventory system, just holding it.
Also because we were inside an albeit large building, but still enclosed space, and not everywhere spacious enough, it was hard to use Lily's infinite grenades. At least her bear was fully work out of its figurative honey, and even when it got stuck in passageways, it was usually a problem for the walls, not for it - though once it was taken advantage of by a thug wearing some sort of leather... mask? on his head who came out of a vent somewhere. The sawaxe left another hole, and the bear began to limp on another paw, but such a lucky bandit... well, turned out not to be lucky at all.
Despite my advice to practice economy, Lily took great pleasure in raining down a shower of SG bullets, while Jim and I used mostly revolvers - and occasionally shotguns.
- How many of them are there? - I asked, puzzled, after shooting another bandit.
- Enough in my experience - Jim said. - Huh, look at this.
He pointed his finger toward the far corner of a rather spacious room with several tables - a dining room? - where we were.
Huh, indeed. A memorial?
A collage of a few photos, with a couple guns lying underneath. I frowned, peering in; it felt like I recognized one of the faces. And what does it say there...?
"With memory and love. They were first-passers, pioneers."
...Bah, it's Moxie's previous hit order! What was he called, "Fater Grabbe."
I snickered, digitally constructed a felt-tip pen, and crossed out letters "r" and "p".
- Yeah, the breakup really took its toll on the poor guy, I see - I muttered. - Jim, I'm beginning to worry about you and me.
- Oh, I… - Slippery began, but the next instant a rather large, shaven-headed man appeared beside him with an effect similar to that of high-speed digitalization, grabbed the mercenary in his arms, and disappeared with him.
- ...Jim had been kidnapped - I voiced the obvious.
I looked at the memorial and shuddered.

One could only hope that even if, uh, our Slippery Buddy's honor and dignity were at risk, he was slippery enough - in a good way - to last long enough... again in a good way.
- Goodbye, Jim - said LR solemnly and slightly sadly. - You were a good mercenary.
- Hey, I'm still alive! - Jim's outraged voice came from somewhere in the ceiling speaker. Wow, that's a classic joke live.
- If you want your pretty boy back, stop... stalling, and come... into my room! - That voice, a man's voice, was unfamiliar to me. The boss of this gym, I believe, is Shanks.
Huh. Come in my room, you say? Are you trying to boss me around? Don't burst.
I mean, from the grenades.
...I mean from the explosions.
- We will not forget your sacrifice. - ignoring everything, Lily continued.
- I'm telling you, I'm still alive!
- You'll be remembered as the loser who let yourself be kidnapped in the middle of an enemy base.
- ...I can't argue with that - Jim admitted.
- "All evil comes from women," - Shanks said philosophically. - Uh, I mean, I'm waiting... oh, and I blocked the exit. I don't like it when a date doesn't show up.
I glanced at the loudspeaker, at Lily, and sighed. The obligatory boss fight, and with a hostage, too.
- I've given up plans to get married, I don't have a childhood friend waiting for me at home, I don't plan on retiring - I said. - Oh, and anything can go wrong.
- What was that? - Lily asked puzzled.
- Taking down the death flags - I answered. - Think of it as a reality-affecting spell. Now let's move, and hope we all survive.

 

[HelioBM]

Despite the boss's "invitation," they didn't stop attacking us. And with the reduced manpower... it wasn't really that hard. There was still no real organized defense, for the most part, and considering that my partner's ammo was as endless as grenades, and she spent it with the same enthusiasm... well, I was there to cover her, to keep her from getting too carried away and making fatal mistakes, and to let her have fun.
- Bwa-ha-ha-ha!
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta
- Aah!
- I'll gnaw your bones and make socks out of them!
- Aah! She killed him... or didn't him? Ah, me...
- Magister, what are you doing? - Glancing in my direction, this ma... although why am I embarrassed, niac, fire another salvo in the direction of the obviously dead bandit from behind the cover of her bear.
- I'm writing a letter to your husband - I informed her.
- But I'm not married - she said puzzled, stopping firing. The bear kicked the corpse toward the pile of others, clearing a passage.
I nodded.
- Yup, working ahead of the game. Consider it male solidarity. Give it to him when you decide on a candidate.
I held out a piece of paper to her.
- "How to woo your magical girl," - she read aloud. I shrugged.
- If anything was wrong, I was open to comments.
She nodded and continued reading.
- "If you care about your testicles, don't let aggression build up. Regularly walk your magical girl (hereafter MG) in places where socially useless individuals congregate (my recommendation: Pandora, but you can tailor it to your taste and mood), covering her and supporting her. A MG who is happy, satisfied, and has spent her ammunition allowance is the key to a healthy and safe family life. Note: don't forget to diversify your leisure time; monotonous shooting can get boring, and the consequences can be unpredictable...."
Lily nodded again, then folded the sheet and slipped it into her unremarkable cleavage, an obvious show-off since the paper had clearly been digitized in the vault. The bear looked at me, nodded, and shrank into a small state.
- I'll familiarize myself with the whole thing later - the girl informed me. I nodded to her and the bear.

Although they continued to attack us, I noticed one unpleasant fact. Among the attackers there were almost no more relatively normal bandits, trying to act more or less intelligently. And that made me fear that the boss had gathered them around him, leaving trash to kill themselves. I'm a badass, but you can take down anyone with a numbers, and my "character" was already taken down by bandits once, at the beginning of the "game". And the boss clearly has his surprises, judging by teleportation, or whatever it was.
By the way, teleportation technology exists, but... that's about all I know about it. There are short "jumps" used in some army equipment, like grenade modifiers, and there are interstellar "jumps". And there seem to be various personal teleporters, but I've only seen mentions of them and vague rumors, like that they're used by assassin-saboteurs from elite Atlas units. I know that we in Vladoff had a project of teleporting projectiles/rockets to overcome armor, without the limitations that grenade modifiers have, but I have no idea at what stage it is, or if they are doing it at all. Well, there are also landing pods - but it's not actually teleport, it's digitalization, the same as FTS.
In any case, if this type had demonstrated some such rare feature - what else could he have in store? It was making me tense. If he had enough minions to level me up, I might have felt a little more confident, but alas. Even the display of the necessary "experience" needed before I could level up had not been given to me.
Lily obviously didn't share my hesitation, whether it was due to overestimating my abilities, underestimating my opponent, or being fundamentally reckless.
I suspect all three. That's why I have to keep an eye on her.

The midget hiding in the skag was a surprise, slightly, but overall it was a normal day on Pandora.
- Every step forward is a step toward death; death is the goal and reference point from which we are trying to escape and to which we are steadily approaching... - I muttered thoughtfully.
- Another spell, Master? - Lily asked with obvious interest, taking notes.
- No, I just wanted to philosophize - I refused, firing a bullet from my revolver into the back of the head of the fleeing midget with an enlarged skull. Huh. I expected more brains.
...If we do manage to get back to Earth, it might be difficult to acclimatize back.

- Do you think they're there? - Lily asked, looking at the door ahead. A big, double-leafed one, with signs like "Welcome, Intruders!" and "Good Day to DIE" and "Figth Heer!".
- Either it's a dumb trap, - I said - or it's also a trap, but with a boss.
The two of us stared at the door.
- We could just booby-trap it and blow it to smithereens - my companion suggested.
- And Jim? - I asked.
- Let's pretend that he was killed by bandits, - suggested the kind girl.
- If you waste good mercenaries like that, they'll run out quickly - I said.
- That's right, too, - Lily agreed. - As Mother says, people should be valued, and not overpaid.
- Is a person worth less by weight than by potential merit? - I suggested.
- But in parts can be sold more expensive - agreed the girl. - Do you know each other?
- No, I just thought of the logic. Privateers are not so different from corporations. Anyway, Jim might still be useful... although I'm not sure it's worth the risk.
Lily thought for a moment.
- When in doubt, cast a...
The SG disappeared from her hands, replaced by
- ...EXPLOSION!!!
with the thick tube of a grenade launcher.
It went off. The grenade launcher, like the rest of this rich girl equipment, was definitely of "blue" quality. The rumble hit my ears, the blast wave hit my body, throwing me off my feet.
However, despite the minor inconveniences, the result was pleasing. One door leaf, which turned out to be metal beneath the imitation wood, was torn in two; the other was ripped off its hinges and crashed into several of the group of bandits waiting outside the door, with a couple of skags on leashes.
Lily was still standing proudly, chin up, grenade launcher tube in hand, her bear just beginning to enlarge, and the bandits and their pets remained stunned and disoriented as I opened fire from the Thunderer. Almost inaudible at first, the crackle of discharges gradually grew louder as my hearing returned to normal. Enhanced physiology and auto-pharmacy rulez...
Lily held out her hand, and I clapped it. Well, we really do work well together, that doesn't even need to be voiced... Though she is a bit too impulsive.

Although there were some among the backdoor ambush who were able to survive a full AB of Thunderer, it wasn't like it helped them - I just reloaded.

The entourage surrounding the boss was smaller than I had feared, but it was still six big guys in armor, albeit not full armor and rather tattered, but mine too was in a state far from ideal. The only thing that pleased, or rather did not cause additional tension, was that only three of them had shields. The boss himself had a shield... but a physical one, a small round aspis with a fluorescent glowing ring on it. In his right hand was a whip crackling with discharges.
"Shanks. Sometimes life prompts things to change drastically..." - the Echo reported.
With a glimpse, I spotted Jim mounted on the wall of a spacious and rather tall room, closer to the ceiling.
- What about the villain's monologue? - I asked, getting ready to start the digitalization of the turret.
- Hey, you're the villains! - the host was outraged. - You burst into my palace, crushed everyone, even kicked in the door!
- ...I apologize for the door - I admitted. The man sighed and waved his hand.
- Okay, it happens to everybody. No offense, just die...
The turret behind me came to life at the same time as Shanks - Shanka, Shank? What's his real name? - dissipated with 'holographic elements', and I darted to the side. Rolls don't grant invulnerability, but they do have an evasion bonus.
...Wrong.
I expected Shanks to appear from the side - if from behind, he'd be in the line of fire of his minions - and I was right. The problem, however, was that he appeared exactly in the direction I'd rolled.
...Or not a problem.
Since the target was so close, I hit him with the butt of my gun. If those bells could jingle, I suppose it would be loud.
Shanks crouched, his knees buckling, but not only did he teleport again before I could fire, he didn't even make a sound.
Gunshots rumbled from all sides. Lily would have to deal with this on her own - I'd have to survive...
My shield immediately lost a few hitpoints, but to my relief, no one had any electric weapons... oh, no, they did. The electroshotgun, and don't ask me how it works, caused the robot bear to be enveloped in a network of lightning - but contrary to the tropes, Pandora's robots are not at all vulnerable to electrocution, so my partner's "active ability", practically ignoring the shot, swung its paw, breaking the weapon and opening the bandit's armor.
I tried to focus the Thunderer's fire on the same bandit that Lily was firing at, but it was difficult, given the fire that was being directed at us - I had to run like in fire, and constantly loop around to avoid becoming fried mincemeat, and in such conditions it was hard to maintain any kind of fire, let alone aimed fire.
Difficult, but not impossible. And an additional motivation was the dire need to reduce the number of opponents who proved too professional and dangerous before they crushed the bear; after that, the situation would be even more in their favor.
The robot's first relatively successful attack was just that, relatively successful; the wound was not fatal, and the bandit replaced the broken weapon with a new one. But there was a hole in his armor, and as soon as I had the opportunity, I took it, firing a bullet into the target.
Not with a machine gun. Running with it is uncomfortable, and the accuracy, alas, leaves much to be desired, and I had moments in this mad scramble only for single shots. Surely I'm in a shooter and not some kind of souls-like game...?
Anyway, the revolver was also pretty heavy, had a hefty recoil, and looked somewhat archaic, but in terms of killing power, Jacobs has little competition. I didn't really hit the hole - Jacobs' accuracy was good, but it wasn't perfect - but it was enough to cause the bandit to jerk, losing his balance, and catching first a few fire bullets from Lily's SG, and then hit from a clawed robopaw, which this time blew half his skull off.
Alas, the bear was also hit; a shower of sparks erupted from its armor, and it was mangled.
The eyes of the "beast" lit up red, and he fell on four legs and in one leap was next to the big man who covered him with an automatic rifle; I think he missed a little. The bandit immediately fired another round at the robot, shattering it further, but the robot, ignoring the damage and flying parts, pounced on the enemy and exploded.
And another explosion immediately followed... or rather, a series of them. Lily's Firestorm almost hit me, but it covered me from the fire coming at me, and I took the opportunity to fire a couple bullets at the dude with the electric shotgun who try to finish the girl off. She, in turn, launched several grenades at once, turning a fair portion of our arena into a fiery inferno, but... I barely made it in time. The sniper, who had finished my turret, took aim at the girl who had risen into the air on a broomstick.
...But immediately switched to me, because naturally my shot was not fatal.
I'm not Mordecai, I'm no sniper duelist. I'm a simple man, but I also have grenades - I borrowed them from my partner.
The grenade, or rather modifier, was the same one I used against the guardian on the island; an electric AoE DoT. The sniper, seeing me swing it, tried to scurry off to the side, out of range, but....
...I could say it was a clever ricochet miscalculation, but I'll be honest with myself: I just missed. "Basic military training" didn't really go into throwing.
In any case, the grenade bounced off the wall and landed next to the bandit who had chosen the wrong direction to retreat, and the next moment he was a lightning rod.
I was forced to look away from my partner, but her maniacal laughter told me she was doing... well... okay? Uh, I'll take that as a yes.
I tossed another grenade into the outline of the enemy behind the fading fire from Lily's grenades, and added the rest of the bullets from the revolver's AB...
...Shit.
The whip whipped around my shield, knocking out most of it, and the rest was immediately knocked away by a bullet that burned my side with pain. The pain was moderate, but there was definitely a hole in me.
I switched back to Thunderer and fired a round... just in time, the teleporter-Shunk that had appeared nearby spun around and interrupted his own attack. Covered himself with a shield, despite the small size of that... damn, it attracts bullets. And based on game logic...
...I knew it. It's a good thing my body starts to act before I even think about it: the bullets caught by the shield came hurtling back in my direction, with noticeably reduced velocity and damage, but still.
Shanks disappeared again, and I turned and fired the rest of the bullets at his henchman, seeing him appear underneath Lily.
- Lily, from below! - I shouted, hastily reloading. "Witch" immediately performed a bomber waggle, and Shanks, instead of teleporting, just ran away; cooldown, probably.
The bandit with the electric shotgun started to reload as well, but I got there before he did. A short burst, and the weapon flew out of his hands; he roared and lunged at me with a big knife.
The man was clearly bigger than me, but I had a shovel. Well, i didn't use it now, but still.
Before the big four-cornered shield materialized in his other hand, I emptied my AB again. The man managed to dodge some of the bullets - he was a bit slow on the uptake, yes - but not all of them. And even the fact that the shield had time to digitally build up didn't save him: the wounded legs I was aiming at didn't hold the body, and then I rushed to him, using his body and shield to cover from bullets and electrocution.
Also - headshot - it gave me a couple seconds to start digitizing.
Shanks appeared in my field of vision, and I reflexively threw a grenade at him with my free hand... damn.
...Huh? His shield didn't catch it. Cooldown, or does it only work with bullets? Either way, the boss and the mini-Tesla tower were connected by a lightning bolt, but in the next second, despite the paralyzing effect of the electrocution, Shanks teleported again. Strong man...
I was stung with pain again; this time in my shoulder. I felt a slight numbness, but my arm still worked.
Which was immediately important, as I caught the whip swing and swung the shovel away. The tip of Shanks' unconventional weapon hit the working surface of the blade sensitively, knocking out a sheaf of sparks that nearly blinded me, and I tossed the grenade again... not just me. Lily did, too.
Alas, there was no victim in the chaos of fire and lightning: he teleported away again.
The bandit with the fire SG was less fortunate. The grenades didn't kill him, but the bullets did the trick.
Apart from the elusive boss, there was only one enemy left in the arena, who had changed his weapon to a strange-looking checkered machine gun firing large-caliber explosive bullets. Poor accuracy was not a problem for him, as the rapid fire and explosions made up for it.
...I never expected them and my turret to take each other out.
The lone remaining boss, however, was not only not going to give up, but also demonstrated that he was the boss for a reason: he was probably a more problematic opponent than the previous six. His constant teleportations made it hard to get a good aim on him, and when he did get a chance, his shield was a problem. And he could catch grenades, but there was a risk of them exploding in close proximity, which this device didn't save him from.

...Shooting in the back was mean, but effective. Well, seven on two isn't exactly a model of valor either.
However, Lily was definitely not bothered by such trivialities.
- This. Was. Cool - she informed, crouching down beside the body and pulling the whip out of his hand. - Every girl should have a whip, and I like this one.

 

[HelioBM]

"Locked Palace" was a large complex, and it took a lot of searching to find the informant-arrestee we was looking for. And even after the local boss was killed, there were still enemies, so I had to stay vigilant.
There was also a strange feeling on the edge of my mind, like something was wrong. Like I'd forgotten something.
I stopped and looked at Lily.
- Listen, do you get that feeling that something's missing?
- You mean Mr. Artie? - The girl asked. - He's in the process of recovering.
"Mr. Artie", from Rip&Tear, she called her robot bear. The process of rebuilding him is by no means instantaneous even with digitalization, though I'm not sure why it's taking so long.
- No, I don't mean him - I shook my head negatively, making a gesture to step away from the door before opening it and checking the room... empty. - Hmm, a persistent feeling that I'd forgotten something.
- Is the kettle on the stove? - Lily suggested. - Feed the cat? Dailies in game? Pay the mortgage?
I shuddered.
- Nah, something far less scary.
I stopped and made a big, resounding, helmet-shaking facepalm.
- ...We'd forgotten Jim.

At least it didn't take long to get back to the "boss arena." Getting down the mercenary, who looks at us reproachfully, was a bit more difficult.

Several of the prisoners we found in the cells were not the ones we needed. One psycho had to be shot at once, because he threw himself at us as soon as we opened the door, with others... it was different. For example, one psycho drew a circle on the floor in his cell with his own blood, and Lily spent some time pointing out all the mistakes he'd made; the prisoner listened attentively, nodded, then thanked us and closed the door. From the inside.
All that would have been fine, but that was where I finally got the next level.

I wouldn't have been surprised to hear "Nobody, no one..." coming from the right cell, but this wasn't Space Balls after all. Our target didn't sing, but still made himself immediately known as we approached.
- Hey, you're not Shanks' people or Atlasians, are you? - came from a barred cell up ahead. - Moxie's mercenaries.
I took a closer look at the speaker. The voice sounded nothing like the informant's, and it was clearly female.
- Yeah, well - whoever it was, I didn't see the point in hiding who we were, even if I wasn't exactly a Moxie mercenary. - Who are you?
- A, your informant - said a woman in a black, tight suit that looked like an under armor. Modern armor uses them too, and from the looks of her, she hadn't been using it as her primary garment for long. - I used a voice synthesizer to mask my identity.
- Do we know each other, dearie? - Jim asked. The mercenary frowned, studying the woman.
- ...We've crossed paths - the woman admitted after a brief pause. She sighed, and explained:
- Atlas, Omega Squad.
"Athena, deserter. Changed outfit, style, and lifestyle," - the ECHO reported with a slight delay.
Jim slammed his fist on his palm.
- So that's where Shanks got that stuff!
I raised an eyebrow. Given the rumors, personal teleporters use... Oh.
- A deserter? - I inquired. The woman visibly gritted her teeth.
- It's personal.
- Personal is personal - I shrugged. - Let's get you out of here.
- What about my stuff? - The lady asked. Quite a nice face, by the way, and a very nice figure. In general, I think women in this world are luckier than men - most of the ugly mutations are due to genome problems in men, sirens are women, and there are very few ugly women (outwardly ugly). Men, however, tend to be much tougher and stronger.
- What kind of strength? - I inquired.
- Aspis... a round shield, I mean, and a personal teleporter. Shanka took them.
Oh, so the whip isn't hers.
- I have them - I reported, retrieving a pair of wire cutters from storage. I estimated the thickness of the bars, put them back, and pulled out a small circular saw based on the Wave disk. I was hoping to work out the defenses on her equipment and use it myself, but I guess I'll have to give it back to the mistress - we need her information and help. - I'll give it back when I'm sure you can be trusted.

A brief conversation with Moxie and an exchange of information confirmed that we'd found just the right person, so I gave the lady back her equipment. She didn't need it, though, not yet - though she was clearly relieved to have it back. Well, I'd be pretty nervous on Pandora without a turret and a gun, too.
She didn't get a gun, though, though I was willing to share one of the trophies, but I wasn't in a hurry to offer one myself. The location was already mostly cleared. Although...
- Are you aware of the local boss's stash, by any chance? - I asked. The lady shook her head negatively. It's a pity, but expected.
She began to outline her plans on the way out.
- Although the Crimson Lance has just arrived, they are pro, and the security system is already working, though not at full strength yet. And that "not at full strength" provides a window of opportunity. "The Crimson Lance is an elite, but as an elite, they have... shall we say, certain liberties, or rather opportunities for willfulness. There are those who can get something from the outside, or go AWOL on a regular basis. I know one of them, extremely good at penetrating and overcoming security systems, but he's more of a theorist, and, let's say, likes to put his talent into practice for peaceful purposes.
- And we can use it for our own - I said. The girl nodded.
- Exactly. You need to catch him and convince him to share the method he uses to go AWOL and return unnoticed. He's good at what he does, but cowardly, and not a big Atlas patriot, so I don't expect much trouble. A mixture of threats and bribery should work, but don't let him escape.
- We'll do it - Jim nodded.

On the way back, I decided to check the cell of the psycho with the bloody circle, but it was empty; the prisoner had obviously escaped while we were gone, leaving his tattered prison clothes in the cell.
...I want to believe it, but this is Pandora.

...We're not out of bandits after all. A couple dozen thugs were waiting for us before we left the Locked palace (Athena helped us open it; I had a suspicion that she had lied about not knowing about the stash and intended to return later and loot it herself, but there was no proof of that).
Fortunately, I was careful, and the few bullets that came at me didn't hit me as well as the rest of the group, and we retreated out of range to prepare to break the siege.
Well, retreated... Athena rushed forward with determination, covered by her shield.
I mentally chuckled, and fired several stacks of Wave disks from behind her back, emptying the AB.
As it immediately turned out, the woman didn't need much support. Her shield familiarly caught the hail of bullets fired at her and returned them to the senders because of the recipient's unwillingness to accept the package. In the next second Athena disappeared and appeared next to the big man standing at the edge of the crowd; the shield swung, and the bandit's hand flew off, showering the ground with blood, while the woman intercepted the fallen weapon - with her other hand throwing the shield, whose circumference of curved blades sprang out in petals, into the crowd. The circular device that had been turned into a circular saw swept away a few heads and made a run for it back to her mistress, who used her freed hand to hold the disarmed big man, using it instead of a shield, and from behind that cover opened fire with his shotgun.
"Assassin Athena. Yeah, she's really killer women," - the ECHO reported again.
All in all, I was sure she was quite capable of handling herself, but still continued to support her. And when the rest of the group joined us... That was quick.

Four people our car definitely couldn't carry, but Athena wasn't about to go with us anyway. She shared information, promised to continue to support us, but she was going to act on her own (which once again hinted at her desire to clean out Shanks' stash without us). I was tempted to point out that her attempts at independent action had led to a jail cell, but I managed to restrain myself. Especially since it could happen to anyone.

Leaving Athena to pick up a car from the rest of the bandits, we headed towards a place called "WBB", an acronym for "The World's Biggest Bullet". It brings back memories of watching old American movies with similar sights in small towns in the backwoods - "Biggest tire in the world, biggest wiener in the world"... Just like kids, man.
Anyway, we were driving towards this locality, where the AWOL master mentioned by Athena was checking in now and then for some business of his own - the woman didn't know if he had a woman there, or just appreciates the local alcohol - when...
"Emergency all-planetary message," - the ECHO reported. - "Turning on the broadcast."
My partners' ECHOs turned on as well, playing the same female voice.
- This is Helga Steele, representative of the Atlas Corporation and the new commandant of this asshole planet. Atlas has come here, Atlas is bringing order, so there are now three populations: Atlas forces, civilians who follow orders, and the dead. The first group is not being recruited yet, so choose from the next two. Attempting to enter restricted areas, disobeying orders, interfering with Atlas forces, and anything else along those lines automatically puts you in the third category. Oh, and one more thing: for the duration of the special operation to pacify and restore order, we are disabling access to the ECHO network, except for further instructions from the planetary administration. Helga Steele, stand down.
"Access to the ECHOnet has been lost," added my communication device, no longer a communication device. The ECHO doesn't communicate directly, it's all through the network, so we're cut off.
- That sucks - Jim said. - It'll be harder without communications.
"Incoming message, recipient: Angel."
I accepted it, and a familiar hologram image appeared in augmented reality.
- Although Commandant Steele has disabled normal access, I still have some of my capabilities, so I can at least help you with communications - she informed me. I sighed; my doubts about the obviously suspicious AI hadn't gone away, but I really needed the connection.
- It will indeed come in handy - I agreed.
"Permission is requested to add a new communication protocol," the ECHO reported.
I don't like this one. Maybe let her put it on Jim's ECHO?.. I thought about it.
"Permission granted automatically," the ECHO said treacherously. - "Message received, sender: AlBa." "Don't worry, she won't screw you over this time."
That's comforting. Seriously.
My partners were clearly not troubled by such doubts, and soon communication was restored... well, as restored - in a narrow circle of users of the new protocol.
Still, it expanded our possibilities, and allowed us to get up to date with the latest news. And the news, it should be noted, was not brilliant.
Despite my efforts, Atlas forces managed to take over Tannis. They ran an archaeology quiz show with big prizes, and in the end, our mad scientist didn't even fall for the money - she showed up at the filming location to give the organizers her strong opinion on the wrong answers that were counted as correct.
It's a madhouse. Or rather, Pandora. It's quieter in a madhouse, there's less shooting.
In any case, the group of protagonists searching for the Vault, while I was dealing with local problems, did not waste time either. They managed to negotiate with the normal, independent settlers of Pandora - yes, there are civilians who don't want the corporate government to return - and were planning an operation to get Tannis out while countering the occupying forces when the latter had trouble with the communications blackout. However, Moxie assured us that the latter was solvable, and in general - the guys and the girl were doing fine "on the other side", and we had to do our job here. Which, in fact, we continued to do.

As it was in an anecdote, on a completely different occasion - "You'll laugh, but...". No, our target didn't die before we got there.
But almost.
Anyway, just to keep it short. He went AWOL to his woman's house and tried to protect her from the bandits. By the time we arrived, he and his girlfriend were in a small bar building, and together with a couple of other customers he was trying to fight off a couple dozen bandits, who were not expecting a stab in the back. There was an unpleasant moment when two of their buggies showed up, but a lucky shot from the Nutcracker took out one car and our turret took out the other.

- In general, Atlas can get either an imitation of your corpse in a pile of bandit corpses, or your real corpse - said Jim. - Take your pick.
- Plus I can offer you a job, and a place to hide for the near future - I added. An impromptu "good mercenary-kind mercenary," since Jim is definitely good at what he does.
The guy, quite young, glanced at Jim, at me, at Lily, at his girlfriend - comparing him...? He sighed.
- I'm an honest Atlas soldier, and I will not say anything and will not give in!...
Jim reached for his knife, and he added hastily:
- But I seem to have lost my backup ECHO with valuable information during the firefight. And the annoying thing is that it's got a simple basic DNA-based defense and a code word that's obviously not "Gladiolus," because noone would put "Gladiolus" as a code word.
- What a shame he doesn't want to crack - I remarked. - Looks like his superiors won't even get a whole body.

Identifiers, access keys, security protocols... a veritable lockpick to the Crimson Citadel's security system. With this wealth, we basically don't have to worry about automatic defenses until the system is updated, and the scheduled update is due in five days. I'd say it's all suspiciously convenient, but if this world is based on a game, it all makes sense. I'm not sure, though, that it can be entirely relied upon, but... not that there's much choice. My motto is "Caution and Discretion", not "Courage and Stupidity", but there's no room for a representative of the Vladoff under the Atlas Protectorate. I won't even be able to escape, most likely. So let's just go for it, all the way.
And the Crimson Lance treasury. Money is money, after all.

 

[HelioBM]

We had to go through fire, water, and brass thrumpets... well, or rather prison and wallet to get our hands on key information that could provide access to the enemy's citadel. We were ready. And finally, after all the shooting and fighting--
- we sat in a bar and drank.
Well, "drank" is a strong exaggeration. There was some alcohol on the table, but the bottle of whiskey remained mostly untouched, and most of the alcohol in our bodies was there with cupcakes and candy.
Here were the rest of the bar patrons celebrating the bandits' demise thoroughly, with face salad and drunk tears. We'd locked the infiltration specialist in his girlfriend's cabin for now, with food and booze to spare, so they had other options for entertainment.
I glanced over at Lily studying the foam in her coffee cup and then taking notes. Nah.
I glanced at Jim, who had molded little men out of bread and was now biting their heads off with obvious gloating satisfaction. No comment.
Man, I'm the only sane person here.
- Well, and you, maybe - I muttered, filling a couple shots. Robo-Bear carefully accepted his with a pair of claws, nodding appreciatively, the turret had no hands, so just nodded, soaking up the machine oil. By the way, it was not something used on Earth at all, this was as different from it as a cartridge block was from a clip. Well, or from a magazine. Pandorian "machine oil" is actually a suspension of repair nanites, and it's a rare and inexpensive thing these days, since it's easier to use digital repair, but our mechanical friends deserve it.
One of the bar patrons gave me a strange look.
...Actually, this is the second day we've been stuck in this bar.
The reason is that Moxie suggested, and Roland, habitually assuming the role of commander of a small "rebel army", agreed, that we should coordinate our actions for maximum effect. Simply put, our attack on the Citadel would have to take place at about the same time as Roland's forces attacked the ECHOnet control center and the facility where Tannis was being held, so as not to be able to send reinforcements and possibly break the enemy's morale. More precisely, first Roland returns normal communications and pulls out the quest archaeologist, and we cause trouble for Crimson Lance, and then the Pandorian militia launches a coordinated strike on the headquarters of the "planetary commandant's office". In my opinion, we're just saving Atlas the headache: the Dahl were smarter than that, and got off that crazy planet on their own for a reason. But Atlas is kind of a last hope operation, though. More like last hopelessness, even.
Either way, until Moxie gives the signal - tomorrow at best - we have downtime. "Hurry up and wait," as Roland hummed. The army, it never changes... At least with different corporations, even when you're not in the army at all.
Anyway, we occupied the bar, and were doing... important things. Yeah. That's what my testimony will be if they question me.
I'd gotten a new skill point from the last fight, and now the question was where to put it. Defense against electrical attacks? Damage enhancement? Improved assembling? Choices, choices...
Given the upcoming case, I was leaning towards upgrading Field Medic or Assembling, but everything else was tempting too.
...Eh, okay. Since I'm not working alone, I'll invest in medicine rather than industry or defense.

- When you sew on limbs, the arms must be on top and the legs on the bottom, no other way! I realize it's fun, but ammunition is designed for a specific setup of users, and commanders complain too.
- Old man Olaf sings odes to medical glue, but you can glue a cute babe together without it, but you can only do cute, cheerful, uplifting embroidery with good thread...

Uh... Medicine is scary, and power.
...Well, at least now I can take care of the seriously wounded and even the dying.
And not just with a bullet.

What should a hero (well, or at least a protagonist) relaxing after a case be most afraid of? Sudden sidequests, obviously. No, they are useful, but you need to rest too, no matter what AlBa writes. So our table was adorned with a sign that read "Angry drunken mercenaries, stay away!" and a few empty bottles. Jim looked at the sign once, raising an eyebrow, but ignored it, and Lily asked if she could have it as a souvenir. Well, I'm not greedy, I even suggested asking the four Vault Seekers to sign it - it would make a really nice souvenir.
- Hmm. We have a young beauty, two strong men, and time to fill - Lily said. - Do you see where I'm going with this?
- Why don't we get a room? - Jim suggested it.
- We can do it right here, on the table - said the girl. - Just make room.
With these words she slipped her hand into her cleavage.
- Wow, these are... gorgeous - the mercenary said with admiration, and I agreed with him: the miniatures on the table were really good.

Board games... no, just games on Pandora, or rather in this world - something with something. "Jumanji" is not a surprise to anyone here: such things are on sale.
In the here and now, however, we were chopping into "Bunkers and Badasses", a popular franchise, on "fast rules without immersion". At first glance, it was just a regular board game, with a game board, dice rolls, and stuff like that. In fact, it was a whole little virtual world: when the pieces hit the square of battle, that's exactly what happened, in automatic mode, but we could watch the action through a virtual screen and give our characters commands. Oh, and the characters, in this game, were simulations of ourselves - or rather, simulations based on the data Lily had collected, which had an effect: I'd seen my character pull out a spellbook a couple times when he thought no one was watching.
It was more fun to play that way, though.
- Your character is cheating - Jim said.
- Yup - I agreed. - He's really good.

 

[HelioBM]

- I've been kidnapped three times - Jim muttered. I nodded. - And there have been five attempted rapes.
- At least you're popular - I remarked. - And most of the time it was women.
- But one time it was a skag - Jim grumbled.
- That was a female, too - Lily interjected.
- That's comforting - the mercenary said sarcastically. - Admit it honestly, did you tweak the game?
- Shall I throw down the logs? - The girl offered, and he nodded after a small pause. For a while we drove in silence, then we heard a surprised "Huh..."
In my opinion, we had played very well, and this session had pointed out the obvious again - even though Pandora looks like some kind of post-apocalypse, or at best a wild frontier (which it is), I was living in a very technologically advanced setting.
If only i wouldn't have to reload guns manually yet...
In fact, I'm tempted to save up some money, blow it all off, and go somewhere closer to civilization. Maybe even take a trip to find Earth.
Alas, I don't think AlBa will let me do that, at least not until we find the Vault. But it's certainly an interesting idea.
Hmm. I'm looking at Lily.
- You don't have any travel recommendations, do you? - I asked. The girl nodded readily, and -
"Incoming message with attached file, addressee - Lily Rose."
...Of course, what could I expect. "The lost city of Magnajabuki, home of the occult order Abbar-Kadabar", "The underground settlement of a tribe of demon worshippers", "The village of witches", "Genuine Eridian ruins", "Anomalous Site A"... Oh, and there I was. Or rather, "my character" was.
...Huh. Am I not myself a character in someone's party in Bunkers & Badasses...?
I shook my head, getting rid of that creepy thought twisting my brain into a closed spiral. In fact, am I too distracted, or too relaxed? We're on a very dangerous mission.
- By the way... Are you not too young to go out against a megacorporation, and even in such a small group? - I asked Lily. The girl looked at me, raising an eyebrow. Well, yes, i could have asked her earlier... - No, we're only going up against them now, that's why I'm asking now.
- In order to be successful, you should start gaining experience as early as possible - she said. - Speaking of which, sempai. When did you start?
- "Sempai?" - Jim interjected. - Well, I started pretty late. About twelve.
- My first real combat experience was at fifteen - I muttered, fishing out my character's memories. - But not against megacorps, and as part of a company.
- And against whom? - Lily wondered. I thought of the statute of limitations, the range modifier, the Markov factor... it turned out that I didn't have to worry about secrecy.
- Toy conspiracy - I reported. - I participated in the beginning of the First Toy Plot, and went through the entire Third. During the Second, I took additional training, then retraining, then re-retraining, and then qualification confirmation.
I shrugged my shoulders.
- Sometimes bureaucratic messes can be useful.
We were silent; each of us seemed to be thinking about something else. Images of fire, explosions, and brightly colored plastic flashed before my mind's eye.
I glanced at "Mr. Artie." Even though the plushies were our allies, it was their makers who had made that pot of gruel. Competition, my ass.
- Anyway, if you want to participate, you'll take sniper support.
The girl grimaced, but nodded. As I could see, she had a decent, even good, sniper skills - she just didn't like it. She preferred close, or rather almost-close, combat with SG and grenades. In general, the best sniper of us is Jim, but given all the circumstances, it is better to change roles. The mercenary agreed with me.
We were going to split up and attack the roadblock from different directions. Blow up the gate with a grenade launcher, then Jim would fire from the vehicle turrel if possible, and me and Lily and our techno support would, well, support. Maybe Athena, if she actually shows up - she promised, but I wasn't really counting on it - will wreak havoc inside with her teleportation.

...However, no plan survives a collision with reality.
This time, however, the surprise was a pleasant one.

- Dude, I told you guys I had a cool car, and I made it. Scooter keeps his word! - said the mechanic with a certain pride.
We visited Scooter through the fast-travel station, first of all to get an EMP suppressor for Atlas' communications. For a new car with improved defenses, too, but... I didn't expect to see THIS.
None of us did.
- If our department had a monster like this back in the day... - I muttered.
Scooter shook his head negatively.
- No, I have the Monster in the neighboring garage, if you want, you can take it. And this car I called Anti-Lancer... well, or just Lancer, if you like. That's the short of it.
What we were looking at was a real APC. Or rather, a custom version of a APC; smaller in size, and with so much armor... huh.
- Is that from the armored skags? - I asked, patting my hand on the armor plate attached to the hull. They made the APC look scaly.
- Yup - Scooter agreed. - It's heavy, though. But strong, like... - he hesitated, - ...something very strong.
- Mamma mia, heavy plasma cannon! - Jim said admiringly as he climbed up to the turret. - And a pulse plasma projector!
- And a minesweeper, too - Scooter said happily. - The best of Mom's stockpile. But I'll tell you right away, it's a slow juggernaut. Too much armor and weapons.

In my opinion, this car should be called "Rhinoceros", not "Lancer" (the obstacles are not his problem, it's of obstacles), but I didn't insist. There was even less interior space in this pile of armor than it seemed, and the speed also related to the Rhino, but armor and firepower... Lancer was quite able to compete with corporate tanks, even medium. Mass class, not elite, but still.
In fact, real tanks are rarely used by coprorats: it's more profitable to rivet expendable robots or to fill up with expendable meat. But they do use them at times, especially the Vladoff again; we like big armored vehicles. Anyway, I had something to compare it to, and the Lancer was... well, pretty good.
And its armament was honed for the job in front of it.
The low speed of the armored vehicle and the open terrain didn't allow us to appear suddenly, but we didn't need to: the trophy identification codes allowed us to get closer without raising the alarm early. And then the Lance fighters didn't have that option anymore.
The directional pulse of the electromagnetic jammer not only cut off the Atlas soldiers' communications, but also disabled some of their equipment, including most of the cameras and autoturrets. And then the Lancer's plasma cannon and machine gun opened fire.
Our plasma cannon was quite similar in action to the large-caliber version of the Eridian guards' weapons, considerably slower, but powerful too. Finally, in this fantastic setting, I was able to see (or rather, use) fantastic weapons - not usual absurd ones.
...If the Wave wasn't so effective, I would have gotten rid of it, just so it wouldn't break my brain.
The plasma ball made a hole the size of a soccer ball; the metal balls from the Gauss machine gun finished the job, causing one leaf of the thick metal gate to fall to the ground. A hand machine gun rumbled from one of the turrets - the large-caliber turrets had been knocked out by the EMP - but the skag armor held the attack with negligible ease, judging by my ECHO's readout of our buggy's durability.
...And then one of the Lancemen used a grenade launcher.
With the speed of our Lancer it was absolutely impossible to dodge, and it was impossible to shoot a rocket-propelled grenade from a machine gun with its low accuracy. However -
The rocket-propelled grenade (and several hand grenades) were about ten meters away when the pulse plasma projector went off.
Not quite a BFG, yes. But close enough.
A wave of blue... something mixed with scattered lightning bolts rushed from under the bottom of the Lancer, causing the fine debris around it to scatter into dust.
The grenades detonated.
The armored vehicle shuddered slightly, but that was all.
And then we burst into the roadblock.
Jim wheeled the truck, and after a plasma burp, the Lancer's ass spewed mines, as if relieved of a constipation. The machine gun continued to fire, heavy plasma pierced the grenade launcher's shelter, and then the armored vehicle belched another projector pulse, forcing the reactor to overheat, but so far out of the critical zone.
Fortunately for us, the Lance had no time to equip the roadblock according to all the canons of modern fortification, and most importantly - they did not have time to create a good system of shielding against EMP suppression (or did they decide to save money? Also possible - wilderness, hurry, budget problems). And let's not forget about the identifier, which allowed us to get close enough to use our electromagnetic trump card.
Still, we should give the Atlas fighters credit: they held on with everything they had. Exploding mines tore the fortifications to shreds, filling the air with dust, heavy plasma knocked out weapons that were dangerous to us, and the pulse projector simply destroyed everything around them - but the Lancers fired back, and our armor strength bar in the ECHO display was creeping to the left, shrinking in size.
I wouldn't have noticed it myself, because I was in charge of the mine-laying machine, so my field of vision was directed in the opposite direction, but the augmented reality automap showed a red dot separating from the checkpoint and flying away at a speed much higher than human speed. Since communication was down, someone had decided to send a courier on the Courier - well, or simply run away.
The now-familiar hum of heavy plasma, and -
- the red dot continued to zigzag away.
- Mjerde! - Jim chimed in. - Again!
The humming tone began to increase, reflecting the charging plasma, but before the discharge could hit its target, the red dot jerked to the side and stopped.

What exactly had happened became clear later, after Lily had shot another courier and we had finally cleared the checkpoint: Athena. The Assassiness had been around for some time, waiting for a possible moment when she felt the need to intervene, and it came. Basically, it was exactly the kind of thing she planned to back up against, if the Lancers could send a courier.
The roadblock had been cleared, and the point of no return had been passed.

At the defeated roadblock we lingered a bit longer. To look for survivors and trophies, to make sure that the alarm really didn't go off and to take care of the control check - identifiers and Athena's knowledge of internal protocols to help - to repair the Lancer's armor, to check the reactor... Necessary things, even if they make us waste time. But as the saying goes, take care of your weapon and it will take care of you. Lily's bear will sign up if you give him the right pen.
- There shouldn't be many people in the Citadel right now, Steele has taken most of them to capture key points on the planet - Athena reported. The woman had changed into something that concealed her face and figure, and expectedly armed herself, with a monstrous-looking, blue-gray Jacobs shotgun with four barrels. - Most likely there would be a company on duty and a construction battalion.
I grimaced involuntarily, and Athena clarified:
- Our... Atlas construction battalion are not such beasts, they are given mediocre weapons, so everything should not be so bad. But there's a catch.
Despite the mask, it was noticeable that she grimaced.
- General Knox. The old man is extremely dangerous, he's undoubtedly the strongest fighter in Atlas. He's got tons of battle honors, feats, and awards that aren't blown, all more than deserved. Ideally, it's best not to mess with him at all, or at least to conduct some sort of diversion. He's using a personal mech, and the EMP won't help you. Access codes too, the hangar is also the general's personal quarters with a separate security system. Unless you have really heavy weaponry, I can't even advise you.
- Pessimistic - Jim said. The woman nodded silently.
- Hmm... - Lily said, glancing at me; I held up my hands and shook my head, showing that I had no ideas. Unless I got a corrosive grenade launcher. Or more than one.
- Do we have good corrosives? - I asked.
- There was something, but nothing outstanding - Jim answered.
- Hmm... - Lily repeated, and tapped her fingers on her ECHO.
- Good luck - said Athena and disappeared. Jim went away, too, continuing to look for something to grab for the benefit of himself and the squad as a whole, I returned to repairing the armored car, and Lily settled in the shadow of it, and quietly communicated on the ECHO; I could hear fragments of phrases.
- ...Anything to recommend? ...the magister can... ...oh, yes... ...okay, but.....
"Incoming call, caller: unknown (redirected through alternate Angel protocol)."
- Hello, Mr. Detlove - an image of a woman appeared in front of me; vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on where I'd seen her. Age... not definite, same like with Moxie, quite beautiful, but, with a certain strangeness. A little bit like Morticia Addams from the old movies. It's not really a similiar face, but... There's a kinship, definitely.
- Hello... I'm not honored to know - I replied.
- Spikey Thorne Pepper Spice Lupus-Gold - the lady introduced herself. - You can call me Ms. Lupus, or Mrs. Gold.
I frowned. What kind of weird system is this...? "Mrs." to address a married woman, "Miss" to a free woman, either one or the other. Unless she was a Lupus before marriage and then attached her husband's last name...?
I don't know. You can expect anything from that family.
- I see. To what do I owe the honor? - I asked.
- Lily asked me to help you with a little predicament you're having, so I thought I'd share a family recipe - the woman said. - It helps a lot with pests, especially mechanized and heavily armored ones. However, it is, as said, a family recipe and I would prefer to avoid sharing it. So.
"Incoming message with a digital contract"
- you should sign the contract first.
I ran my eyes over the text. Uh-huh, uh-huh, I see, the usual...
- No, it doesn't work like that. It's missing the clause about free of charge transfer of the soul in perpetual lease - I noticed.
- Clause 12b - the lady kindly pointed out. I reread the said clause... oh, so it's not decoration after all, but text.
That's how it translates.
- In which case, I apologize, indeed it does. Which doesn't change the fact that you'll have to find another idiot after all. By the way, can you tell me what language that was? Even the ECHO couldn't pick it up.
- Ancient Aramaic - Lily's mom said, still as kindly as ever. - Okay, if you're not an idiot, here's the second sentence.
"Incoming message with digital contract."
- ...Um, sorry for the personal question, but you didn't have any demons or devils in your family? - I inquired. The lady smiled.
If the first option was an offer to be sold into slavery, then the second... well, into it, but with a decent payment. I was even tempted for a second... nah. After all, I had the Main Quest looming over my head, and the Vladoff wouldn't like that either.
I sighed.
- Again, I'm sorry, but not interested.
However, even that refusal didn't seem to upset the woman; she merely nodded, and -
"Incoming message with a digital contract."
Huh. This option already looks suspiciously low-key and unobliging. Non-distribution and non-transfer of the recipe and the license to use it, confirmation of the agreement Lily and I already had, and the most suspicious part - a promise on my part to consider three requests from the Lupus-Gold family with the highest priority. The suspicious part was that it was just a promise, not something legally binding.
...Oh, okay. If it wasn't legally binding, there was no need to worry.
- That's fine - I decided. - But I'm not signing in blood.
- Personal electronic signatures and legal systems are secure enough to do without it - the lady replied. - Besides, I have good combat lawyers.
I shuddered, trying not to show it. Combat lawyers are tough. Mix Judge Dredd, a collection agency, and a goddamn dozen demons from the underworld and you get a combat lawyer. I don't know if there's anything in the galaxy more unstoppable and unstoppable than these scumbags.
Sighing once more, I signed my name and opened the archive with the digital construction scheme, chemical formulation, license - and a ready grenade modifier. Huh.
- Well, thank you for your help - I said. - It's been, uh, interesting talking to you.
- I can say the same, Mr. Detlove - the woman replied. - Good luck, and make a video for me, for the family archive.

The formulation sent by my employer's slightly infernal mother was a killer chemical cocktail that dissolved most metals in a fun and funky way. Sure, the armor uses composites, and... a lot of stuff, really, but it's definitely going to be a good asset against armored pests.
And that's not an allegory - it's best to prepare in advance for possible Pandorian critters. You won't be fully prepared, but still.

Due to the disconnected ECHOnet there was a little difficulty in acquiring materials - Angel's options are limited - but Moxie helped to solve it.
...The women in this setting are some very... impressive.

We did come across a couple of small engineering teams of Lancers doing some work, but the means of identification worked well enough to avoid conflict. Exp, sure, but I'm not a maniac to chase it like that. And I sympathize with my colleagues.
But still.
- Don't you think there are too few guards and people in general? - I asked, frowning.
- We will not retreat in any case - answered Jim.
- That's right, too - I sighed.
As the Crimson Citadel loomed ahead, we regained access to the ECHOnet. Unfortunately, that meant we had to hurry.
The fact that Lancer had to be left near another bridge didn't add to my enthusiasm.

He was standing in the middle of the road smoking a cigar with his helmet open against all safety rules.
I wouldn't really call that thing a mech. It was more like a heavy - very heavy - armored combat exoskeleton, about three meters tall. As far as I could tell, its owner, whose only visible feature was a graying head with a patch over one eye, was not a small man himself, about two meters tall.
"General Knox," reported the ECHO. - "He doesn't like Mondays, and this one especially..."
- You're just in time," the general said gruffly. - I have time to talk a little while I smoke. No, we could start a firefight right away, but you live longer if you smoke, don't you?
My ECHO automap showed a few more red dots, but they were over the edge and not moving, so it didn't look like he was stalling.
- Why don't you listen to the esteemed veteran - I said. He nodded and took a drag.
- Well, let's start by introducing ourselves. Alphonso Knox, Commander of the Crimson Lance... well, I suppose you know enough about me, if not from Athena, then from the net, part of my service record is in the public domain. Governor General of this fucking cesspool called Pandora, as you might have guessed on your own. And a man who is extremely tired of all this shit, but not so tired that he won't finish you off one last time.
- Jim DiGriz, adventurer and mercenary extraordinaire - Jim introduced himself. - Nothing personal, but I prefer Pandora without megacorps. It's shitty enough as it is, but at least it's free.
- Lily Rose Vinegar Sugar Lupus-Gold - the girl, unexpectedly, made a curtsy. - I'm on a quest. You just happened to fall into my lap.
- Lupus-Gold? - snorted the general. - Your mother shot me in the right leg. Twice. She paid for the treatment of one hole, though.
- Pyotr Dyatlov - I joined the trend. - Technically, a sales rep for the Vladoff. In fact - free mercenary, private businessman, professional repairman. Problems with coffee makers? Contact us!
My companions glanced at me; I glanced back at them.
- What? You should always take advantage of a good publicity opportunity!
- And the Vault Seeker - hummed the General, ignoring the publicity.
- Well, in a way - I agreed. - But it's like a hobby.
- A hobby is good - agreed Knox and took another drag. - Tell me, how old is your direct superior in Vladoff?
- Is that a trick question? - Lily interjected. - I like trick questions.
- No - the general answered briefly, continuing to look at me. I shrugged.
- Fifty-two, I think.
- Mine was five - Knox said, sighing heavily.
- Five tens? - Lily interjected again.
- No - the general repeated again.
- Oh. Clannishness and nepotism work wonders - Jim voiced my thoughts. Knox nodded.
- Athena's betrayal, Steele's failure, now this... - he took the cigar out of his mouth and looked at it. - What the fuck am I even doing on this planet?
I found myself nodding.
- We all ask ourselves that question on a regular basis, sir - Jim informed me. - Perhaps it could even be called Pandora's Ultimate Question. Along with "How much ammo do we have left?" and "Is it gonna *gasp*?"
- Anyway, I was thinking about retiring with a loud slam on the door, but then you showed up - said the general after a short pause, during which we considered Jim's words and recognized their truth. "So I thought why not do Atlas one last favor. And there's a chance for a good fight.
He took another deep puff and tossed the cigar away.
- Let's get started.
The general's helmet slammed shut, and the three of us immediately darted away. Jim and I threw grenades behind our backs, Lily threw a bear.
The flashes of a light plasma gun flashed past; the clang of metal against metal let us know that the robo-bear had joined the fight. I reached one of my pre-prepared shelters and ducked behind it amid the clatter of corrosive SG turrets. No wounds, the shield was two-thirds gone, Lily hid behind her own cover and fired at the general from behind it.
I peeked out for a second and found Knox clutching at an already slightly sparking and smoking Robogrizzly, and clearly overpowering it.
The sickening thing i discovered is that the general apparently had a shield as well, not just armor.
The Thunderer chanted his war song, but before the shield strip could show any significant advancement in the desired direction, the Atlasian reacted by flipping off the bear and leaping into the air. Not so much a flight as a jump, accelerated by the jetpack behind his back... significantly accelerated.
I suppose a direct hit from the two plasma cannons of the Knox that appeared in front of and above me would have fried me on the spot.
Luckily, Jim had the Big Gun.
The monster gun from Jacobs, the orange quality gun that bears that name was (officially) just considered a hunting gun. Well, you can hunt tanks too, I suppose...
The hit threw the general slightly off to the side, knocking the scope off, by jerk allowing me to survive his shot. Unfortunately, he fell to the ground the next second, and his mechsuit sent a wave in all directions reminiscent of the pulse projector from the Lancer.
Fortunately, many times less powerful and long-range. Even so, one of my turrets stalled, part of the concrete barrier crumbled, and the remnants of my shield waved goodbye.
Still, I kept firing, letting the machine gun's palpable recoil throw me away from the enemy, and even maneuvering this peculiar engine slightly. Knox pointed his hands at me again - or rather, his guns - but then a rock (bear?...) and another Big Gun bullet flew into him, along with a scattering of small-caliber corrosive and shock bullets from Lily's turrets and SGs.
Break the distance. If I get hit by his pulse gun, it's gonna be an barbeque, steaming and well fried. We need to take out the shields, then we need to corrode it.
A plasma discharge passed between my legs, burning the armor and the meat underneath. A mental command, and instead of a corrosive grenade, a tesla grenade appeared in my hand, attached itself to Knox's shield; immediately, i switch back. Jim's cannon roared again, but the damage to the shield was nowhere near as high as I would have liked; Lily was actually contributing more now.
And then a robogrizzly that was accelerating crashed into Knox's armor.
Both mechs went tumbling, but Knox immediately rose into the air and fell again, slamming the bear to the ground and adding discharges from his plasma cannons.
The bear exploded.
This time, Lily's robot didn't last long at all, but his help proved quite valuable. Knox's shield finally failed, and now I didn't have to worry about friendly fire; a grenade went off... And another one....
The General swung back, knocking Lily's grenade aside so that he was only slightly caught in the spray, but the one I threw hit the hull, on the opposite side of the tesla, which had just stopped emitting lightning.
Knox wasn't just swinging away, though. A shot, and Lily's shield flashed red.
No way.
The heavy Thunderer disappeared, replaced by an assault rifle, and I fired... acid, at the armored suit's arms.
Lily avoided another direct hit, but even just a close discharge was enough to nullify her shield and shorten her health bar. The girl shrieked.
"The health" of Knox's armor, however, was also shrinking, and another grenade caused him to make another reactionary dash, this time to the side - but in the movement he fired again. There wasn't another hit on Lily, but another turret was down.
I rushed to the girl; she was now covered by my concrete structure, so there was some safety, but I had to do something about the wound.
- Not bad for a mercenary - came Knox's voice. - In that case, let's get serious.
A siren sounded, and the red dots outside of the minigraph came into motion.
Shit.
Problems, however, must be solved as they come, and under the sound of shots of the remaining two turrets and Jim's gun, I crouched near the unconscious girl, assessing her condition.
Huh. Her dress is armor. The lace and fringe on the surface had burned away, exposing not at all a girlish body, but a black, slightly smoking, tight material. Electroshock, short-term paralysis, burns, not serious condition, she'll recover soon, but we don't have that "soon," so I pressed the bracelet of the auto-aid kit against her neck.
I'm surprised she doesn't have her own.
The time spent on the girl was enough for the battlefield to undergo some changes. A couple of Crimson Lance fighters, who had come from wherever, were engaged in a firefight with Jim, another was setting up a turret, and the fourth... was field repairing Knox's armor. Holy mother of engineering medicine.
I launched my own turret; Lily hissed, and I pinned her to the ground, keeping her below the barrier. And then fired as well, choosing the Nutcracker this time.
Whoa. The engineer with the turret exploded spectacularly and his pet followed; success. I shifted my aim to the "medic", but this time the explosion didn't work; he did fall down, however, hit by Jim's shot. I shot at one of the remaining soldiers and immediately crouched down to reload... just in time: plasma flew over my head.
Rise, fire, crouch, repeat. Another soldier exploded; lucky day, it's not every day you get to blow up two almost in a row.
Lily fired again, and I barely had time to pull her from where a patch of melted sand immediately formed.
There are two things with guns in this setting that I just don't understand. The first is the manual reloading. The second is the incredibly poor accuracy of rocket-propelled grenade launchers. We're in the fucked up far future, so why the fuck do these fucked up things always go fucked up?
And yet, when the familiar pipe appeared in Lily's hands, her counterpart appeared in mine.
Imagine my surprise when I realized that my rocket-propelled grenade was exactly on target, exactly where it was supposed to go.
...But it didn't hit it, not one or the other. Knox used exactly the same trick we used on the Lancer: a plasma projector pulse. His men were already dead, and friendly fire was no threat to them, but the grenades were in range.
At least the general was caught in the blast wave, causing him to stagger, and I immediately fired a second and final rocket-propelled grenade. I'll put it on Lily's bill, they're freakishly expensive.
The girl, who didn't care much about the price, repeated after me, and I switched back to the corrosive, at the same time launching the digitizer with it, and immediately to the shotgun.
And just in time, too, as Knox made another dash for it. If it hadn't been for my oncoming shot, he would have rammed Lily and me, but as it was, he smashed our cover.
The girl and I rushed in different directions, tossing grenades. My left arm flared with pain and went limp; it was good that I could still feel it, but the way the left side of my body twitched wasn't good. No fire from Jim's side, but the turrets stepped in for their boss, continuing to pick at enemy already damaged armor.
Lily threw at the general... Not a grenade. A bottle, with a "handmade," as far as digitally constructed, "mom's recipe" concoction.
The Knox hand cannon that the vial shattered against melted, and exploded before my eyes. And I immediately retrieved my own bottle from the ECHO vault.
This infernal mixture was far less convenient to throw than a grenade capable of partial targeting, and it had no explosion whatsoever. Plus it was almost useless against a shielded target - but Knox's armor, as tough as it was (and it was, judging by the scratches left by the Big Gun), held it up to almost nothing.
The main thing was to keep the spray off us.
Both of Knox's hand cannons were out of action, but he simply kicked Lily, throwing her a dozen meters away; the girl fell and froze again. He turned and lunged at me, no jet propulsion, but still fast; kicked, and I flew away, too.
It hurts, but I manage to get up and throw the "ordinary" corrosive; or rather, on the contrary, throw and then get up. Switching the auto-pharmacy mode to a more optimal one made the pain recede a bit, and even my left arm moved.
Four more soldiers appeared at the gate to the Citadel; Knox ran toward them. I rushed toward the grenade launcher that had fallen out of Lily's hands like a three-legged turtle that wanted to live.
Though her gun was better than mine, it wasn't as accurate as mine.
But it was good enough.
The grenade exploded on the ground, between the two engineers who had rushed to help the bosses and the boss himself. The bullet from the sniper behind me made another hole in me; I let the grenade launcher out of my hands.
And replaced it with a Nutcracker with one bullet in the AB.
Two soldiers were aiming at me. I aimed at one of them.
Explosion. And another hole.
I fell, knocked down by the recoil of my own rifle. My leg was shot, but I was able to sit up and materialize the assault rifle.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a foot for a foot.
Two explosions in a row affected the general's balance in a bad way, and my shots - sensitively recoiling even despite the work of the auto-pharmacy - did not improve his situation at all. Still, unlike me, he was able to get up.
- There's nothing to shoot with - I grumbled gloatingly.
...Fucking dramatic irony.
On the body of the armor, in the area of the chest, opened a niche, from which stuck out not large, but quite decent barrel.
*uck.
The grenade modifier "with teleport", trophyed at the checkpoint, was really shitty: white quality, low efficiency, in addition there was no normal targeting system - you had to set the target manually. It was just a trophy to sell for cheap.
But there it was. And i also had a mentally controlled ECHO.
The barrel on the armored mech was still extending when the grenade appeared in my hand - and disappeared again.
And reappeared again, this time right in front of the barrel.
The explosion didn't turn the gun around as I'd hoped. But it did enough, creating a hiccup, and preventing Knox from noticing what I had noticed.
Jim, who had dropped out of the fight some time ago, had not escaped or died. The mercenary was wounded and crawling, but he was only wounded, and he was moving, moving closer to the enemy.
And a bottle appeared in his hands.
Acid with the clinking of glass doused the armored man's leg, and it buckled under his weight, forcing him to fall.
And then Jim threw the usual corrosive.
- Fucking planet - Knox wheezed.
- At least you didn't run into Claptrap - I wheezed.
- Agreed - Jim wheezed.
- So this is where I'm going to die...? At least it was a good fight - Knox said. - And while you're at it... If you survive, give Atlas Command I hate them. And a bullet.
- Will be done - Jim replied, and fired into the hole in the armor.

The commander's death didn't mean we were safe, but our disabled team couldn't even move. Lily was still alive, but unconscious, I couldn't get up, Jim... well, the mercenary playing the sloth on the ground was still the most mobile of us. Give it at least ten minutes and things wouldn't be so grim, but now... If a lame janitor found us now, he could probably beat everyone to death with a broom. Then level up dramatically, but that's another story.
Fortunately, neither the janitor nor the new soldiers showed up, and it was immediately clear why.
The siren that was still going on suddenly changed its tone, becoming even sharper and more piercing. And then a voice was added to it.
- Attention! All non-evacuated personnel must leave the area immediately! The Crimson Citadel will self-destruct in five minutes!
It was echoed by a second voice, filled with grief and anguish--
- No! My money!
Who's yelling?..
Oh. That's me.

 

[HelioBM]

I felt attraction towards the treasure, almost lifting me off the ground. Alas, even the mighty power of heroic greed wasn't enough to overcome the chthonic, chained-to-the-earth power of lack of HP. So all I could do was to crawl towards Jim, seeping tears and blood, to share - no, not the grief of the money flowing through my fingers, but just the effect of the medikit. Then the two of us courageously crawled toward Lily, and away from the impending explosion.
Shit. All this pain and suffering, all this effort, all this futility, is unp...
...oh, rock.
...unpaid! The moral pain of it was comparable to the physical pain that tormented me. The latter was gradually dulling under the influence of the first aid kit and probably the natural regeneration of my body, but the former was only aggravated with the timer sounded from the Citadel.
And, by the way, we should be as far away as possible. Who knows about Knox thoughts, he could activate an atomic bomb. Or some weird, locally-inspired absurdity.
But we couldn't get out of here quickly, so there was a second option: to create a shelter. Alas, I still didn't have time for something serious, and I didn't have a lot of materials, as the digital storage of the ECHO was far from limitless, but I was able to cover our disabled team with a couple of walls. Which I started to do when the three of us got together.
Lily stirred; turned her head, looking around, opened her mouth to ask something...
- Countdown to self-destruction! Ten, nine...
...and closed it.
I, in turn, raised my face to the sky; there wasn't enough material for a proper roof.
- It's shameless to deprive the heroes of honestly earned loot from the boss! - I voiced my concerns. - And more importantly, it's against all canons!
- ...Zero. All the best in the next life!
The ground shook. The flash was visible in the hole above me - for a moment I was afraid that AlBa had decided to strike me with lightning - and the rumble made my whole body "buzz". Something drummed into the walls I had created.
And then something massive and elongated fell into the hole from above, embedding itself in the ground.
The rumbling and banging continued outside, but there was silence - or rather, silence in our little hiding place.
- Listen... How do you do it? - Jim finally asked, not taking his eyes off the weapons container sticking out of the ground.
- Connections - I answered, also not taking my eyes off the container.

Our treasure chest was locked, but that wasn't a problem: unlike the late General's personal digital vault in the ECHO, which I'd cleaned up so I could look at it later but hadn't counted on being able to open, this one had a simple corporate lock designed to protect it from drunken idiots, mostly. There were plenty of ways to deal with it when you didn't have to worry about security and consequences.
And inside.
- This is mine - I said, pulling out an orange shield from my seat.
- You're putting together a patriotic Vladoff kit? - Jim chuckled.
- An option - I agreed, taking the old shield off my belt and replacing it with my new charm, which soothed the pain. Mostly the pain of loss.
"Shield Atomic Flame Engine," - the ECHO reported. - "Capacity: moderately high, reload speed: moderately high, stabilization speed: moderately high. Unknown additional function."
Like the other orange items (and some purple ones) I had seen before, the shield had an inscription on its body - "Polymer Power!". Although the ECHO didn't display the exact numerical characteristics (I wouldn actually like such game convention, and it's not that actually game-like - shields have measurable characteristics, right?), it did show a comparison with my previous shield, and it reported that the "Atomic Flame Engine" was superior to it on all counts.
Perhaps next time there wouldn't be such serious injuries.

Lily didn't take anything from the 'chest', but put a beacon on it - and took the general's head. "I'll show it to my mom, let her be happy," she said.
- So take the whole carcass and make a scarecrow - I hummed. The girl froze and made a facepalm.
- My mistake - she admitted, and that immediately raised her grade in my eyes. A girl who can admit her mistakes is nice. If anything, it applies to men, too. - Well, I guess we can still sew it up....
She looked at me hopefully, but I held up my hands.
- No, no, no, no, not my field. I'm more of a coffee maker, and it's not going to make coffee.
- Too bad - Lily sighed. - A little necromancy would be nice right now.

While she dealt with her bloody trophy, I contacted Roland. We had a protocol, and in this case I just sent him a text message - "The Crimson Citadel has been destroyed, General Knox has been killed, but he was able to evacuate his staff beforehand. The fighters will probably join Steele." Now it's time to recover a little more so that I can move around properly, and then we can go back to the Lancer.
- Good gun - said Jim, stroking his new purple revolver with satisfaction. I would have taken it myself, but since I'd chosen the shield, Jim had the right to choose something for himself. - And by the way, amigo... Don't worry so much about the money. If the Citadel was evacuated in time, the treasury was probably taken out anyway.
I nodded sadly. He was right, and it wasn't that we'd been left with no loot at all - even roadblock, after all, had given us something - but it was still a ruthless dash of hope. The treasury of the entire expeditionary corps.
...Wait a minute. If it was evacuated, it wasn't scattered by the blast. And we may yet meet.
I felt my spirits lift. Wait for me, our separation is temporary... I hope so.
- It's worth tracking the evacuees before they join forces with Steele's forces - I said. - Divide and conquer. We won't be able to destroy them all, especially in this state, but...
- But to weaken them, to strike a financial blow, perhaps, - the mercenary picked up my thought. - That's a good idea. It's hard to say how feasible, but why not try? Well, they could use air transportation...
The use of aviation on Pandora is very limited. Primarily because it's easy to cross the turret-guarded border by air, and the corporations prefer to keep the population within clear boundaries. There are still some, the anti-grav from the junkyard is a testament to this, and bandits are making their own flying jalopies, but in general only the corps have aviation. As a result, it is almost impossible to track the movements of aviation, and if Atlas men used space transportation, which brought them to the planet, the matter becomes impossible.
But, uh.
- Angel, you're up. Hyperion's got airspace monitoring stations, and Dahl must have something like that.
Just in case she's busy and can't eavesdrop. - I duplicated it with a message. It seemed like a good bet, as I received a map with three moving dots on it, and right before my eyes, one of them separated from the others, heading in a different direction. Somewhere to where the protagonists are now, it seems. They, by the way, for some reason began to be called "Vault Hunters", although as far as I saw, their activity in this direction was very little, if any at all. Inertia of the game basis, I suppose.
It's more likely that Tannis should be referred to as "Vault Hunter".
In any case, reinforcements to counter militia forces didn't interest me; in our current state, we can't fight them anyway. But the treasury, in the sense of what the main forces intend to do there, is worth checking. So there are no unpleasant surprises.
Hmm. That's true, isn't it?
I nodded to myself and voiced my conclusions.
- We need to get to the Lancer, recover, and try to figure out what the evacuees are up to. We don't want to get into any sudden trouble.
Jim nodded.
- I agree. It's worth finding out what else they're up to, and where our money is.
That "our" made me a little queasy, but I nodded too; it was fair.

Homo Recens physiology, plus modern medicine, is something. My Earth body, with injuries like that, would, if not vigorously protest with a desire to retire, at the very least require several months of bunk leave. The Pandorian version... In two or three days I should be in shape.
Unfortunately, a couple days, especially Pandorian days, is enough for things to change drastically. Fortunately, so far my suspicions have not been justified.
"Commandant" Steele's forces were focused on holding back the militia, and they were doing an excellent job of it, as the latter were not eager to put their heads down either. Without a clear and obvious objective, the enthusiasm of the natives waned; I suspected that some were even making a small business out of it. The same Marcus might well be supplying both sides with used ammunition and weapons. Perhaps even of my own making.
Or not. After all, the Atlasians must have their own vanguard fabricators.
...No, don't be greedy. Although I would like to get my hands on it, of course.
...But to see if I can make money from it, I must.

During the forced recovery downtime, Jim, as the most zealous and best driver among us (and the most capable at the moment), was conducting a mobile reconnaissance of the activities of the main forces of Steele. Even sent a video of the lady herself; quite interesting, though of an odd sort (color, primarily).
Annoyingly, she had familiar-looking "tattoos" on her skin. A siren, or just an imitation?
Sounds like another "boss" to me. Maybe even the final one.
I'm not sure what Lily was doing (made stuffed general, I think), but I was testing my new acquisition, among other things. The results were strange.
My new shield had several properties. When received melee hit, it occasionally released a white, sticky liquid, a kind of superpolymer with variable properties that could ignite, could activate an electrical discharge, or could simply restrain the victim's movements. This, however, was of limited use, despite the abundance of close combat enthusiasts; more valuable was the fact that when the shield was depleted, the polymer covered the user with a layer of additional protection, covering wounds and plugging holes in the armor. The shield had its own digital construction module and digital storage, plus an evaluation algorithm, so this layer of plastic on the body did not constrain the user's movements.
More than one skag suffered in the experiments, which was an added plus.

War is war, lunch is lunch. Lily and I were racing B&B with croissants - the access to the goodies alone was worth saving her, I was even starting to consider proposing marriage and a prenup again - when my ECHO made itself known.
"Incoming call, caller: Patricia Tannis."
- Are you alive in there? If not, you don't have to answer - you probably have more important things to do, like feeding the worms. Worms are an important part of the ecosystem, in case you don't know, and Pandora's soil desperately needs their work.
- I'm probably alive - I replied. - You seem to be, too. But feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.
There was a pause. Checking to see if she is alive.
- Diagnostics show you're not wrong.
Told you.
...Shit. I was beginning to understand Tannis.
That's a bad sign.
- Well, that's all well and good, but I contacted you about something more important than clarifying the existential status of a pair of primates - the archaeologist continued. - Ms. Steele and her goons were kind enough to provide me not only with a dozen rifle butt pokes - by the way, I don't need them, so can they have them back? - but also valuable archaeological information, as well as the last piece of the Eridian artifact... did I mention that it had been collected? It wasn't destroyed, but deliberately split into pieces, apparently.
Damn it. Roland wasn't ahead of them after all. That sucks, it's a plot artifact.
Losing it is probably a plot point, too, though.
Wait a minute. I think I know what this is. At least, I have an idea.
- Unfortunately, I haven't finished researching it, so I want you to return it, plus my notes borrowed by Ms. Steele without my permission. I fear she intends to use them for some sinister purpose. Perhaps even to publish in her own name... though the latter, of course, is unlikely. After all, Ms. Steele is only a mass murderer and war criminal, not a despicable plagiarist. It shouldn't be particularly difficult if she doesn't want to give after a polite request - she only has a few hundred soldiers, a thousand at most. The reward for this would be phenomenal!
- Will you raise it higher on the list of co-authors? - I asked.
- And I'll even share the notes I have left - Tannis nodded.
- First of all, do you know where they are now?

She knew. For the simple reason that it was her deciphering of the Eridian records, cleared by me and Atlas' forces, that had determined the current location of Steele and her forces. "The Salt Plains," the place where the passage to the Vault is hidden.
Uh-huh, so that's how simple and anticlimactic we've come to the finale... I smell a catch. Well, not really: there can't help but be a catch.
Tannis didn't know anything about Steele's abilities, but she did say something interesting. And not just interesting, but something that clearly affects me...
So, a piece of lore.
From my previous work with Tannis, I already knew something about the Eridians. A highly advanced civilization that likes to entertain itself with gladiatorial fights fought by anyone other than the Eridians proper; mostly various artificially bred critters like the same skags, though this is very low level. The show has to go on and not get boring, so they created more and more powerful critters, purely biological and biomechanical, like the same guardians, trying to create more and more efficient, spectacular and deadly models for more and more spectacular shows.
Aside from the advanced biotechnology that these assholes used for such nonsense - yes, I'm judging other people's culture, you can sue me - they were pretty advanced in other things. Apparently in digitalization - that's their technology, after all - in shields and energy weapons...
And also, according to what Tannis had read, they'd made a breakthrough in yet another direction.
They were able to contact another universe, to open a passageway.
That's what AlBa was talking about.

 

[HelioBM]

It's pretty obvious that I didn't have the slightest thought of rushing head-on into a superior opponent. Even if this world doesn't follow the "MC always arrives on time, even if that 'on time' is late" rule, it's unlikely that Steele is going to destroy the Vault along with all of its contents. Hell, come to think of it, there's a non-zero chance that I'll be sucked into a portal, so I'd better get ready in advance, and gather a lot of stuff that might come in handy on Earth. First of all licenses, of course, but it's hard to get them on short notice.
A search in ECHONET on the request "license acquisition" yielded an unexpected result. Turns out we have our own local weapons manufacturer on Pandora. S & S Munitions, at one time was sort of a non-major Pandorian corporation. However, since they were actually a subsidiary corporation of Atlas, they've been getting sicker and sicker lately, with the "parent" pulling resources out of them. Now they're barely functioning at all, and are selling off what property they have left.
Hmm...
...Why don't I take out a loan?
I highly doubt that even the best combat lawyers are good enough to go to another world, or even another universe, for a lender. Although, of course, AlBa could get wacky... but it would be a very strange version of the Terminator.

Alas, loans and banking in general are not so good on Pandora. It's more like borrowing money from people you know, on trust, or on the security of property. I can transfer my property, even sell it... but it is better not to hurry with it. Although my story would seem almost finished, and there is nothing to worry about, but still... Yes, and it will not be possible to sell my enterprise quickly. But I can offer it as collateral.
But there's still the question of who to turn to. Not Marcus. Even though we've come to a neutral relationship with him, but still.
Moxie, perhaps? I could go to Lily, but after talking to her esteemed mother... Moxie is less chthonic.

- Moxie, can you tell me where I can borrow a decent sum of money against my business?
- To you? I don't suppose anyone would lend it to you - you've got too good a reputation.
Eh?..

However, Moxie immediately clarified the situation - quite obvious, really. It's all about how the business will be taken back in case of emergency: when the owner is known to be more than capable of standing up for himself, there's no guarantee that you'll be able to take what's owed from him. On the other hand, if he's weak, there's no need for any obligations - you can just come and take it.
Anarchy, you know.
Shit. I've become a victim of my own reputation.
The most frustrating thing is that now is the perfect opportunity for raider... ahem, force requisition... um, to be enterprising and acquire property at zero cost. Without Atlas' force support, one could simply show up at the current S&S bosses and take what they have left, perhaps paying a token amount. Perhaps even money. However, I still wouldn't risk it alone, and putting together a team...
...Hmm. Maybe I will.

- When do you intend to attack Steele's forces? - I inquired.
- It's hard to say exactly - Roland replied. - At the moment they're fighting the Eridian guards, and there's no point in getting in the way. Plus a good portion of the militia forces are engaged in containing and thinning out the forces from the Crimson Citadel.
- Too bad we couldn't blow them up - I sighed. Having previously captured the treasury, obviously. Alas, the chances of laying hands on it were getting slimmer and slimmer.
- The chance of complete success was initially very low - said the soldier. - What you managed to do is already respectable. If you want to participate in the final attack, I will contact you.
- I'll be waiting - I nodded.

- Yup, I'm in - Lily nodded.
- ...But I haven't even said anything yet - I noticed.
- What difference does it make? - The girl looked genuinely surprised. - The more I observe your activities, the more I am convinced that near you, Magister, strange shit happens all the time. Which means i need to stay close.
She shrugged.
- It's not only interesting, but you always pay your dues fairly, including for my security.
- Work ethic is an investment in reputation - I said. - If you can't get rid of witnesses, you have to leave them with the right impression. Anyway, if you're in shape for a new adventure, I'd like to invite you to participate in a little requisitioning.
- What kind of things? - The girl asked.
- Depends on how things go.

Going on a weird sidequest right before the final battle? It's common, any RPG fan will tell you that. Although I do prefer the machine gun and sniper, but those are details. The bottom line is that I need licenses, and there are too few free ones available... or rather, there aren't. There are too few publicly available free licenses. Licenses, memory modules for ECHO, digital construction schemes - on Earth, at least on my home planet, all this will be priceless. So, since the end of the story is in sight, we should hurry up and get everything we can.
Hopefully the Eridian guards will hold out long enough.

- Look, Mr. Deathlove - the man in front of me sighed, and my cheek twitched. Man, why the fuck are they all twisting my last name? Death might take offense! - Our firm is doomed. The founders, as far as I know, have been murdered, and we, the remaining employees, are trying to sell off the property to escape Pandora. If you help us get off this damn planet, I'll give you all the electronic keys and access codes I have for this branch of S&S.
Huh. Jackpot? It's an obvious quest, though. And hence...
I raised my hand.
- Mr. Zaidenko, a small favor. For a couple of minutes, please don't move from your seat or do anything.
The man gave me a puzzled look, but nodded.
- Lily, take a convenient place for defense - I said, and hurriedly set up the turrets.

"Incoming message, sender: AlBa. "Cheater!"
- Just a man who uses his abilities wisely - I objected. - And in fact, from the looks of it, you were the one cheating.
Of course, as soon as I accepted the quest, bandits appeared on the horizon. In vehicles - luckily, regular couriers and converted trucks, not armor - and lots of them.
Way more than usual. A whole little army.
Some might say it was because they were about to storm an armory where resistance could be expected, but that was all nonsense. The office was breathing down its neck, and the guards had mostly scattered, but a gang of a hundred men... That's obviously overkill.
Fortunately, when it became obvious what kind of horde was coming at us, Zaidenko voluntarily opened the armory, aka the warehouse of finished products, and I began to hastily stamp new copies of the CRETIN turrets on the distant approaches. My AI could only pull a limited number of turrets without additional processors, so I was going to build new ones as the old ones were destroyed, retreating inside the building.
Which I successfully did. There was a lot of shooting, a lot of dead bodies, a lot of wasted nerves, especially when reinforcements came to the bandits, and then on the smell of blood came the skags - still have doubts that AlBa cheated? - but in the end, everyone went down. All the enemies, at least. The NPC... that is, the workers, were protected.
I honestly expected a new attack on the march, where I won't have the maximum number of turrets, so I tried to requisition the cars left after the bandits. Fortunately, this is Pandora, so even the relatively peaceful employees of the armory knew how to shoot. Unfortunately, there weren't many surviving vehicles, but there weren't many workers either.
I'd try to recruit them, but since I'm aiming for the end of the story...
Anyway, on the way to the spaceport, there were incidents... but nothing I feared - just a swarm of varkids. One car overturned, but the passengers survived.
And then it was time to investigate exactly what I'd gotten.

Oh... geez.
The result of this quest was, shall I say, ambiguous. I got a building with most of the equipment (some of the workers grabbed something), but without workers. Finished products from the warehouse for the most part went to the turrets, and was destroyed with them. There was expectedly no money at all, but there was some resources, which I do not mine myself yet... not much, alas.
But most importantly, my new property was an administrative center, not a production center.
This, in fact, was quite ambiguous in itself. In my current situation, it was probably for the best. All I had was a small prototyping workshop, but in addition to the fact that its fabricator was even more valuable than the Vanguard fabricator I had - albeit much less productive - I not only got almost all of S&S's licenses, but also something as fucking valuable as a design terminal with all the software. This… In essence, I had in my hands the freedom to produce any S&S gun, and any modification thereof. With that, you can set up on any planet, formalize a company, and produce products.
...And how hard it was for me to think of not being able to haul all the equipment with me.
The designer software is intentionally created so that it works only on the designer terminal, just downloading it on ECHO will not work. And this prehistoric-looking hulk is not that not transportable at all, but it is unrealistic to take it with you to a hypothetical Eridian portal even if you clear out all Atlas forces first. It's almost like a computer from the seventies, twentieth century.
...I'm pretty sure the terminal looks like that solely so I can't steal it away.
Ok. That doesn't mean there's nothing I can do.

Convert digitizing schematic files into a suitable format for ECHO. Digitize all instruments and spare parts, if possible. Load all technological documents, technology descriptions, and manuals into the memory. Get my hands on a couple of digital vaults and rejoice in the increased inventory size.
And then realize the obvious (but for some reason only now) fact, and fall into a deep depression.
All this technology, all these weaponized (and not only) wonders, all this mind-bogglingly absurd hi-tech - all these fucking absurd "technological" wonders.
...They won't work on Earth. I'm not betting my hand on it, only because I don't bet on that kind of thing at all.
- For the first time in ages, I feel like getting drunk... - I muttered.
- Magister? - Lily asked. The girl had taken part in shooting bandits, and it seemed that she was quite happy with this side quest.
- There are worlds with magic and worlds without - I said. - And you can choose one or the other.
If my realization is correct, I won't even be able to carry the valuables with me, because what's in the digital vault can't be retrieved.
- Oh, is that it? - Lily asked, and I looked at her suspiciously.
It doesn't matter.
- And the important thing is that often magic is relatively ordinary and familiar things - I continued. - I have serious doubts about digitalization, too.
The girl thought for a moment.
- That's an interesting point of view - finally, she said. - Actually, I had such thoughts. But it's not interesting enough and it's too commonplace, so...
I nodded.
- You didn't need magic per se, but something colorful and interesting.
- Master, did you happen to be enrolled in an online psychology course? - she asked.
- Why would I need all that darkness and superstition? - I wondered. - No, I just realized that there was a high probability that the higher powers had screwed me more than expected, and all my efforts were in vain. You know, like when you start playing an online game, investing in your character, picking up a build, and then a patch comes out that changes the balance.
Lily grimaced. She thought for a moment and pulled out a bag of brownies, which she handed to me.
I nodded gratefully.

Whatever my suspicions, hope springs eternal, and the chance that I'd be able to sneak at least any valuable metals with me was not zero. So I pulled myself together, and continued to prepare for different options.

The short message from Roland contained only geographic coordinates and the name of the nearest FTS. Well, it was time to move out for what would probably be the final battle.
We need to get more explosives.

- The tentative plan is quite simple, but sensitive to detail - Roland said. - We follow Steele's remaining forces, not letting them retreat, but not engaging them in combat, pressing on the remaining guardians in the area... there were plenty of them. If the guardians win, good, if Steele gets to the Vault, good, attack as soon as she opens it.
I nodded, but I noticed:
- That's a pretty good plan, but I don't think Steele doesn't realize it. Unless she's desperate, she must have some kind of trump card of her own.
- You're right, it worries me too - Roland agreed. - The most likely possibility is that there is some kind of weapon in the Vault and she knows about it. So there is an option to attack before the opening, but Ms. Tannis doesn't know how to do that, but Ms. Steele almost certainly does.
- Tannis will probably figure it out if we can't do it ourselves - I remarked. - The problem is that if we know the exact location of the Vault, people will go there. And we're guaranteed to get more megacorps.
Soldier nodded.
- If we don't empty the Vault as quickly as possible, it's not only a missed opportunity, it's a magnet for trouble - he said. - Atlas is on his last legs, so he was an easy enough opponent. If Maliwan, for example, or Hyperion were to show up, it would be more difficult.
I sigh.
- So we'll let Steele pull chestnuts out of the fire. But let's be vigilant, I don't believe it will be easy.
Everyone present nodded in agreement.
Actually, there was another problem: the problem of sharing the spoils. However, I didn't bring it up.

In fact, there had never been any really large-scale battles, not even wars, in the history of Pandora. Despite the incessant violence, from the point of view of Earth's history, it's all a ridiculous fuss of negligible scale: not even thousands of fighters, only hundreds, and even that is very rare. The norm is a dozen or two fighters on each side... well, or one or two Vault Hunters, and a few dozen bandits.
Steele originally had about a thousand and a half men with him. Now there were about three hundred of them left.
Unfortunately, the remaining ones were the elite. Equipment, skills, and even morale - according to the observations of the reconnaissance drones, they were fine, excellent even.
What was particularly troubling was Steele herself. The blue-gray-skinned lady was indeed a siren, and a professional, unlike Lilith, who, though she had gone through the school of life, was still an amateur. The problem, however, was not the skills she displayed - she was a good shot, it was a fact - but what she didn't display: her abilities, minus the hand-to-hand energy attacks that were nearly as good as Lilith's, remained a mystery. Scout drones had picked up the glow of her tattoos a few times, but that was all; usually after that, the drones were shot down.
There were a lot of interesting things to say about the place we were in - for example, this canyon was mysteriously invisible from the air - but I wasn't in the mood for that sort of thing. The finale, or something like it, was fast approaching, and I highly doubted it would turn out to be one technological bummer. The final game needs a final boss, after all, and Steele, for all her abilities (I'll give her credit, she was much better with guardians than I was), still didn't seem like a final boss; General Knox was more impressive. So I had two theories, both of which were unpleasant and, worst of all, could be combined: either Steele would get her hands on some kind of battle gear like Knox's mecha-exoskeleton, which would dramatically increase her threat level, or there would be an Eridian gladiatorial champion stashed in the Vault. Hell, a few megaskags would be enough to devour most, if not all, of our militia. And this is just the lowest level of Eridian toys, an obsolete model. I don't want to find out what their best of the latest was.
I remembered Skull Island, the terrain detail that gave it its name, and I shivered.
At least the Atlasians didn't have armored vehicles: the canyon leading to the Vault was too narrow and uneven. Unfortunately, this was compensated for, at least in part, by the medium exoskeletons, or mechanized armor, present on almost all of the fighters. There were some aircraft, but they were shot down by the guardians, mostly while attempting to land at the end of the canyon, near the supposed location of the Vault.
In general, it should be noted that something strange was going on in the canyon. From the outside it was a plain, with a small, unremarkable ravine as an entrance. Inside, it was a narrow path on the slope of the canyon's drop, with the sky above, a cliff to the left, and a chasm to the right, from which the guards appeared. That said, the flat hard surface visible from above was not a hologram or anything like that, it was quite tangible. Even for Pandora, it was impressive. If I were to speculate wildly (why not?), I'd say that if this Vault really is some sort of laboratory for the study of space and other universes, they used their designs to distort space. It's a great disguise.
And a perfectly defensible position. The fact that the guardians did not kill all the Atlasians, forced to move in a chain along the narrow path, can only be explained by a miracle and the highest professionalism. And by fact that the Eridian robots, or whatever they were, did not attack with all their forces at once, issuing new waves only as their fighters were eliminated and the Atlasians advanced.

- Did something happen? - I asked, noticing Roland frowning. He glanced at me, hesitated, but answered.
- It seems so. The Citadel forces have stopped near one of the FTSs, and they're doing something.
- They can't count on reinforcements, so they want to evacuate...? - I mumbled out loud. - Wait. Their ship is still in orbit?
Roland nodded.
- They can't fire on our forces, they'll hit their own, but they're still up there.
- And they still have...
- ...Drop pods - the soldier finished for me. - We can expect a landing and a rear-guard strike in the near future.
- Steele will rear us when we rear her - I nodded. The Roland's expression changed slightly. - Has it already begun?
He nodded.
- The first pods have been dropped. Some of the militia have gone to destroy them, the rest of us should get into action. The ship's changing orbital position, no need to find out what else they're up to. Plus, Steele's forces are almost at the bottom of the canyon, we can't let them get a foothold.
Yeah, they'll put machine guns there and mow down the approaching infantry... I nodded again.

When the "tail" of the Atlasians came under fire, the chain of soldiers accelerated their movement, focusing on defense. Fortunately, like us, they didn't use grenade launchers for fear of destroying the way back, but hand machine guns, due to the cover of thick armored shields, were also a problem; it was as if we had a moving fortress wall in front of us. At least we had those too, and the direction of movement played in our favor, but in their favor was the heavy armor missing from the militia.
We had Mordecai and Brick, though.
The militia's machine gun fire had almost no effect on the Atlas Elite's armor. Roland's attempts weren't very effective either; I wasn't even trying that way from this position.
Mordecai's shots were rare, but every bullet from his corrosive sniper found a target behind the shields. The hunter preferred to hit at arms and legs; not out of any mercy, but simply because it was the most advantageous in this situation, creating gaps in the wall of shields.
Brick acted more simply, using basic, fundamental physics, laws of momentum transfer and fulcrum instead of precision and calculation.
He threw rocks. Big rocks.
At times, the Lancers managed to pick up a comrade flying into the abyss, but one who tried to do so fell off the edge together with Brick's victim. And, again, our big man's actions created gaps in the enemy's defenses, which were exploited by our marksmen, especially Mordecai.
...Brick threw a live skag at them once, and I don't want to know where he got it.

Ahead, the glint of the guardians' plasma discharges and flashes of Atlasian return fire were visible. A single member of the Crimson Lance was definitely inferior to a single Guardian, but the men were coordinated. If the Guardians had some kind of overall control, it was clearly flawed, and now it was having a big impact. The Lancers were taking out the technologically superior robots one by one, concentrating fire of multiple guns on them, and the guardians were getting fewer and fewer, while the human casualties were low; the Lancers engineers were field repairing the armor right in the battle, applying patches.
Shit, how are we supposed to take them out...? The fewer guards left, the more pressing the question became.
And that wasn't the worst part. Both my visor and my sniper scope gave good magnification, and I could see the bustle of the Lancers who had reached the bottom. Several engineers had set up a digital projector, and were hastily assembling some sort of device from the parts it was creating... shit.
- Mordecai, can you stop the engineers from assembling the FTS? - I asked through the ECHO. Almost immediately, one of the men working below fell. At this distance, even considering the windlessness...
...Shit. No more guardians. I never expected that to be frustrating.
With their comrades behind them, the released Lance forces couldn't shoot at us, but they could still get a little more movement, so they could attack from the bottom of the canyon.
I peeked out from behind the shield of the militiaman in front of me for a second - immediately taking a bullet stopped by my shield - and fired a stack of Wave circulars roughly between the rock and the enemy. Huh, the Lance soldier went off the edge... It's not much height, though, so he'll survive.
There was a roar. Brick snatched the shield from one of the militiamen, and shoved the others out of the way - at least he didn't throw them off... oh, he did throw them off - and rushed forward.
Shit. It's like bowling.
- Support him - I heard Roland's ECHOed message, and we rushed in the direction of the people flying like pins.
"I wonder if Brick could turn over a tank...?" - I thought aloofly, shooting someone in the face. - "Probably yes... I hope Lily doesn't go ahead - I don't want to find out if her mother manages to make it to the other universe. Оh, tits… were."
Funny thing - a massive melee at close range. Not my thing, but it has one upside: when the hustle and bustle around you ends, you feels extremely alive.
…Well, almost.
- AGAIN? - Death asked, looking at me. - OK. THE TERMS ARE THE SAME.
He put on his glasses and unfolded the paper, muttering something about feed quotes. I think.
Fortunately, there was still no shortage of replacement candidates nearby, and while their defenses posed some (obvious) problems, the corrosive SG was quite capable of solving them.
- You might want to think about changing your line of work - the skeleton remarked and disappeared.
There were no buildings at the bottom of the canyon, only a slightly raised platform with a pile of rocks on it. It was to this that Steele hurried, holding the cone-shaped Eridian artifact in her hand, which, along with her hand, was enveloped in a gradually intensifying blue glow. Most of her fighters continued to hold their defenses, a small group covering the engineers trying to revive the desperately sparking FTS, and Siren seemed oblivious to anything but the object in her hand. A few more quick steps, and the artifact - a key, definitely - lifted from her hand, hovered in the air for a second, spinning, and then dropped into a notch in the ground.
The ground beneath her feet shuddered. And then the pieces of stone piled on the platform in front of Steele began to rise into the air, coalescing into some sort of structure... an arch.
A portal arch.
A flame erupted next to Steele in a near explosion, from which another female figure with glowing tattoos emerged like a wingless phoenix.
Lilith. She attacked the very moment Steele opened the portal.
However, despite all the "commandant's" previous concentration, it failed to take her by surprise; she jumped back, firing her revolver - or rather, the two revolvers that had appeared in her hands. The flash of flame only licked her, just missing her shields, and in the next second Steele was two.
...And then one again. As her transparent, hologram-like copy disappeared, punctured by a black and red tentacle as thick as a foot, shot out of the portal.
And more and more kept coming out.
Magical girls are vulnerable to tenacles, it's a well-known fact. From what I've seen, however, all of us here are vulnerable to these non-gender-discriminatory tentacles.
Several of Lance's fighters found themselves strung up on outgrowths that ignored their armor in a matter of seconds. The stuff wasn't all-piercing, and I could tell that their shields were... not exactly stopping them, but at least hold one hit, but if that was any consolation, it didn't last long.
A large eye appeared among the cluster of tentacles, and in defiance of common sense, it fired a laser roughly in my direction.
I dove forward and down as soon as I saw the eye, sensing with my ass what was about to happen. Alas, not everyone around me shared my understanding of the stampede.
At least a quarter of our squad was mowed down, leaving their lower halves smoking. The attack also caused the road we were traveling down to collapse.
- Let's kill the monster, we'll deal with each other later! - I yelled, materializing a grenade launcher in my hands. It's not like farting at this thing with a SG...
The tentacles spread like anemone wide enough that even with the RPG low accuracy I hit them, making a sudden splash of purple... blood, probably.
- EXPLOSION! - and a new explosion blossomed on the tentacles.
- Lily, retreat on your broom! - I commanded through the ECHO.
- But this place is so interesting! And I can take care of myself!
- Re... port the main forces of what's going on! Only you can fly!
The girl tsked.
- Keep the broadcast on.
With those words, she tossed the bear in my direction and soared into the air.
"Message received with attachments."
Huh. Still, Lily, for all her badassery and weirdness, is a good girl, and knows the way to a man's heart. She sent me a stack of grenades, simple and reactive.
However, the next moment a tentacle stretched for a couple of hundred meters pierced the stone next to me, and I was not thinking about women.

On the plus side, tentacles aren't poisonous, and you can live after a single penetration, especially if you don't tell anyone. On the plus side, the Lancers heeded my call and focused their fire on the monster threatening both sides, not on us. On the plus side, they had enough grenade launchers and grenades.
Everything else is a minus.
...Ah, no - the fact that the creature was obviously so huge that it couldn't squeeze through the portal, an optimist might also call it a plus.
That didn't stop more and more tentacles from popping up in place of the ones torn off by the explosions. Oh, and to make things even more fun, the wounds it been inflicted with were healing quite quickly, though the elemental effects were definitely counteracting that, especially the fire ones. What can I say... I was expecting a vicious final boss - I got it.
In fact, everything was... well, on the level of the final boss. Yes, death is near, yes, extremely strong, perhaps even cheater, creature, but - it was clear that not invincible. It's regeneration was far from instantaneous - actually, Brick's was faster. Its tentacles were powerful and fast, but predictable and not unstoppable.
And foolishly, or out of greed, or whatever, when a dozen tentacles were torn off, the thing that the ECHO called "Destroyer" stuck its face out into the portal. Or at least part of it. It looked like a mixture of a skag's face and a dewlap, perhaps.
Sticks out, and it's stuck.
On the one hand, this added to the problem, since it was more agile with its tongue than with its tentacles, and two more lasers were added to the one that fired from time to time. On the other hand, the muzzle had clogged most of the portal, so there were only six tentacles left... alas, new ones still coming through to replace them.
There was just one question. My ECHO, unlike all previous enemies, did not display a health bar. And consequently.
- Can this thing even be killed with a conventional weapon? - I muttered, firing a circular Wave in the direction of the eye. The organ seemed vulnerable, but the creature covered it with tentacles and a thick eyelid lid.
Suddenly - good thing it wasn't exactly underhanded - I got an answer.
- According to my data, in our universe, the creature is vulnerable, and it is showing signs of feeling pain. Also registering changing biological indicators... Transmitting assessment program.
Whoa. The health bar is finally showing up, and it's already been halved.
Just as I was getting excited about it, a tongue pierced one of the few remaining Atlas fighters and dragged it into the monster's mouth. Someone immediately launched a grenade into it; the tongue twitched, dropping its victim, but it was unlikely that even a homo recens would survive such a thing. The empty health bar confirmed that.
- Send it the others - I told Angel.
- I already did - she said, and then fell silent.
I didn't have any cover I could use to create a turret, but I did have Lily's gift. Hand grenades... I didn't risk getting close enough to throw them, and I didn't have a teleportation modifier (that trophy one was crap anyway), but rocket-propelled grenades were still quite relevant. The creature's hide was incredibly tough, but the Lancers observation and sacrifices had found a number of vulnerabilities: something like articulations on the tentacles, the mouth, the eye, previous wounds... And as for the hand grenades...
"Use them."
Covered by a stack of corroded armor shields, Brick sent me a smirk in response, and grenades flew from his side into the monster one after another. Now that's someone who has no problem with throwing distance...
The eye of the Destroyer began to flare up for a dangerous laser attack just as I was reloading the grenade launcher... oops. I don't have a grenade launcher. I defended myself against the tentacle. The weapon was fucked, I was thrown, but I was still alive. However I still had to survive.
Roland, however, had a grenade launcher, and his projectile hit monster under the eye, causing it to twitch and discharge into the sky; the lower part of eye turned milky. Immediately, a hand grenade fell from the claws of the Bloodwing onto the top of it, clinging to the flesh and erupting in a cloud of persistent flame.
Lilith and Steele, spread out on opposite sides of the battlefield - still not victims of the tentacles, against all odds - were making seemingly token contributions with their assault rifles, but the ECHO showed a slightly but shrinking health bar, and the magnification of the visor allowed me to see the burns their bullets were leaving on the monster's vulnerable parts.
- Mommy... - someone squeaked, and the number of Lancers was reduced by one more. At least the dead man had left me a brand-new grenade launcher, just what the doctor prescripted... As the tentacle whistled over my head, I picked up the weapon. Oh, there's still a grenade left, we're living.
- THAT WAS FAST THIS TIME. YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY THINK ABOUT CHANGING YOUR OCCUPATION - said Death.
- I'm sorry for the inconvenience - I repented, hurriedly looking around for someone to feel sorry for. Damn, there were no more Lancers I could "accidentally" shoot.
Shit.

This could have been a good place to end the story, but... Caution and prudence, mind them and they'll save you.
And money helps, yes.
Sighing, I slipped my hand into the special armored container on my belt, and pulled it out of there.
Death stared at me questioningly, as if unsure of how to feel about it.
- Is something wrong? - I asked. He sighed and waved his hand.
- JUST DON'T DO THAT AGAIN.
- As you say - I agreed and shot the hamster.

By the way, I also got a warning from AlBa too not to do it again, but the main thing was that I was alive. Again. And once again I began to contribute to the victory of the Pandorian madhouse over the anotheruniverse madness.

If you're expecting a dramatic, pathos-filled story of desperate struggle and miraculous victory, I must disappoint you. This battle was bloody, hard, but without any intrigue. We just poured kilogram after kilogram of ammunition into the creature, trying to survive ourselves and finish it off, and in the end we succeeded.
Well, how "succeeded"... The creature twitched more and more as it was wounded, and at one point it jerked with such force that it slid back into the portal, leaving behind a sizable chunk of flesh. Immediately, the glow in the arch faded, the arch itself crumbled into stone, and the artifact-key that had activated the portal jumped out of its slot and rolled away, falling apart into three pieces.
- Did we really survive? - Mordecai's voice in the ECHO sounded somewhat puzzled.
- We're the toughest badasses on Pandora! - but Brick sounded pleased. - Only, uh, where's the treasure?
- And we still have a little problem - Lilith said, pointing her gun at Steele. She looked around, released the machine gun - her ECHO also slipped from her belt and fell to the ground - and slowly raised her hands.
- I surrender - she said, looking up at me. - Mr. Dethlove, I believe I have something to report to your superiors.
Glances crossed at me, and I grimaced. I waved my hand.
- I don't mind, but we'll talk about it later.
"Message received, sender: AlBa.
Achievement: 'Very big game.'" Although it wasn't you who struck the last blow, and there was no last blow, but you made the Destroyer of Worlds flee in shame (seriously, that thing ate a couple of them, it just wasn't comfortable on Pandora). Be proud of that!
...Perhaps I'll toss in a memento. Later.
Mission received: Your "princess" is in another "castle". You've made it, and you've reached the Eridian Vault, which contains a portal to another universe. Unfortunately, not the right one. But higher spirit, perhaps you'll have better luck next time!"
I facepalmed.
- Bastard.

 

[HelioBM]

- Boss, we've got something weird going on here!
- Don't scratch it, it'll go away on its own - I said absentmindedly. Nothing's been happy lately...
- No, boss. It's obvious, but that's not what I mean. Look at this.
An ex-gangster ex-miner who had become a miner again (history, as we know, moves in a spiral) pulled out of his pants a long, thick, red - crystal.
Huh. Not at all what one would expect.
- Where did this come from? - I inquired. - From our quarry?
- That's right. The analyzer was jammed, so we didn't try to saw it, we decided to show you first.

Two weeks had passed since the memorable battle with the Destroyer. I'd largely withdrawn from the political fallout (though I'd picked up some personnel among the surrendered Atlas survivors), and Roland, as a former Atlas employee and career officer, had taken over. By the way, we were not left without loot; this time we didn't have to remind AlBa about the rules of game design, and not far from the inactive portal we found... not a cave, but rather an overgrown niche with several containers filled with Eridian artifacts of various kinds. The key to the portal, by the way, I quietly got my hands on, so that no one was interested in it.
All seemed well - I'd survived, I'd gotten my hands on valuable loot and profitable property, peace and order had returned to Pandora (actually, no - we'd just prevented that by getting rid of Atlas), but...
Before, I had a Goal. It was more or less clear and understandable, and although I didn't really know the specific steps necessary to achieve it, I could be sure that I would reach it - if I survived. Now there was uncertainty, even from AlBa there were no new messages, and I realized that I wanted to go home. And yet I wasn't sure I could go back.
I would have left Pandora, except that the only chance I had left to return to good old Earth lay here. So, alas, this madhouse won't let me go.
At least my situation has improved considerably, thanks in no small part to the most valuable piece of loot I got after taking out the Destroyer.

- Let's be clear, Ms. Steele - I rested my chin on my hands on the table. - I'm only formal is employee of the Vladoff, and I'd prefer to minimize contact in the future. However, if you're interested not just in surviving as a defector, but in getting something for yourself, why don't you work for me? And help make my little business big. If you're good enough - head of security, I suppose - you can count on a stake in the enterprise.

I wanted to rename S&S to D&S, but this very proud woman demanded that her name come first as a condition. And I warned her that people would ask why D instead of M.....
Oh, and I had a fight with Lily because I didn't want to sell Steele to her.
Anyway, life is made up of ups, downs, and depression as black as Pandorian coffee for lack of milk.
And of surprises.
"Eridium crystal," my ECHO reported, and something in my head clicked...uh, no. Only the name came to mind. - "Do a search for matches on the net?"
Hmm. Well, why not.
"Requesting & searching in progress," the device reported and displayed the active symbol.
- In general, leave it here, if you find more - put it separately - I instructed the employee. - Oh, and thank you.
- Glad to be help, your maje... I mean, yessir, boss! - the man stretched out, saluted, and then walked out. I have no idea where they get these habits, but on Pandora, it's best not to ask such questions.
I looked down at my desk, at my coffee, at my to-do list, and with a sigh I got to work.

It was already evening. Steele had gone on a shooting spree with some suicidal idiots, and I was about to go to bed when the ECHO reminded me of itself.
It wasn't the result of a search, however.
...Well, not exactly.
"Incoming call, sender: Hyperion Corporation offices."
Huh. Well, let's see what it is.
A thin, fairly young man was staring at me.
Vaguely familiar.
Who i immediately took a liking to with one simple word.
- Hello, Mr. Dyatlov. My name is Jack, and I would like to offer you a contract for the extraction and sale of an interesting resource...