Condition Evolution 2: A LitRPG / Gamelit Adventure by Sinclair, Kevin (black female authors txt) 📗

Cassia was the first to react, “Bombs! Rig the whole section to blow? I can’t tell if you're serious, or delirious.”

“Deadly serious,” Gus said sheepishly.

“Deadly, is right,” Ember said, shaking her head.

Mick just chuckled to himself, as Gus began explaining his thinking, “Guys, I understand this is definitely something we don’t want to do. But imagine we're all about to be slaughtered by a bunch of Fystr. This could provide us with two options. A, we’re going to die. So, take as many of these motherfuckers out with us as we can, or B, we can use it as a bargaining chip to buy us some time.”

“I hate it, and I love it,” I said happily. “And I agree with Gus’s insane plan, as long as no one accidently triggers it.”

“I suppose I’ll have to agree too,” Ember said. “As long as no one accidentally gives Shaun a detonator.” She laughed. As did everyone else.

“Well, I’m all for Gus’s plans,” Mick said.

“I will agree to this, on one condition, Gus,” Cassia said.

“Yes?”

“You make damn sure none of the bastards escape. I want Guy Fawkes to be green with envy if we have to detonate.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely make sure of that.” His face lit up with an evil little grin, and I think that disturbed us all the most.

With that decided, we now just had to prepare and stay calm.

A week of relative peace passed us by. Ember finally taught me the holistic repair practice, which was as utterly boring to do as it sounds. But at the same time, it was kinda nice to meditate next to her, and I did feel invigorated afterwards.

We hoped for the best but worked hard to prepare for the worst, as someone, somewhere, once said. Learning to work well together, so if anything did go wrong, we had at least a chance at survival. Even Ember and Cassia were getting on with each other. Everyone seemed almost content. So, obviously that’s when the shit hit the fan.

C6

 Shit!

The first spatter of shit was an alert from the supply station’s alarm system signaling the arrival of an incoming ship. This caused a flurry of activity and emotions in us all.

Despite our planning, we found ourselves in an unplanned limbo. Was the newcomer friend or enemy? We just didn’t know.

We had set up a fall back defensive position but couldn’t leave the main control room until we knew who was coming.

It didn’t take long to find out. We could see the sleek, dangerous looking ship landing in the docking bay through the monitors. It wasn’t the Thoth, but even so, we all stayed glued to the screen to see who would come down the ship's ramp.

We waited with breath held, as figures emerged from the dark shadows of their hold. Ten Fystr in total came out. The first thing I noticed was that they didn’t have guns. They all had melee weapons. I felt instantly better about our choice of weapons.

It was also apparent they were huge like Ogun. They all stood at least a head taller than the supply crates in the main loading bay and I knew my own head just reached the top of those same boxes. They wore highly ornate armor that was much meaner looking than ours, and they moved very well in it too.

They all carried either one sword, or two. Apart from one guy. He stood a head taller again than his Fystr companions and twice as wide. An absolutely hulking, terrifying man, and that was just through a camera screen. He looked like he was on ten meals a day and a shit-ton of steroids.

But despite his sheer presence, what really drew my attention more than anything else, was the huge axe-like weapon strapped to his back. The blade was like a crescent moon, the reverse of how an axe-blade should be in my head. It looked like a fearsome weapon designed to whip a head off a set of shoulders in a heartbeat. I mused how it would offer both great offensive and defensive capabilities. I couldn’t help but feel a warrior well trained with that thing would be almost impossible to beat. Though it wasn’t a scythe it wasn’t far off, and I wanted it badly.

I looked round to gauge everyone else’s reaction. If I had to sum it up, I’d go with shitting themselves. I had to admit that our situation looked rather grim.

“Do they know we’re here, though? They could just be here for supplies,” Mick offered.

Cassi replied, her voice just above a whisper, “Shall we just watch them for a while and see what they do?” It was an attempt at an order, but I could tell Cassia was unsure of herself, which was understandable.

We all agreed with her. There wasn’t much else we could do. We had ten Ogun-level aliens arrayed against us. If they didn’t know we were here, then it was definitely in our interests to keep it that way.

We all let out a sigh of relief when they started sorting supplies and getting fuel. It didn’t take long for our collective hearts to drop on the floor, when two of the Fystr split off. They were heading towards the doors that led to the command center, the living quarters, and us.

“Shit!” Cassia hissed. “They’re coming. We’re fucked.”

“We need to fall back. They’ll definitely come in here,” Gus said, anxiously.

Without another word, we set off at a quick pace out of the command room. Cassia led us unerringly, and I was glad it wasn’t me. I’m sure Ember could have taken us, but I had zero clues as to where our fall back location even was. All the corridors looked the same.

As we finally raced into the storage room. Gus went to the panel by the door. Cassia hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Locking it so they can’t get in. What do you think