Repo Virtual by Corey White (read a book .txt) 📗

JD brought up the dreadnought’s menus, his eyes caught by the self-destruct button marked in hazard red. Every ship and structure in the game had one, and pirates were known to scuttle a stolen ship rather than let it be recovered. Some repos did it too, instead of leaving a botched contract to another repossessor, but JD never had. It seemed too petty.

A musical chime sounded from somewhere below the cockpit’s dash, familiar but out of place. JD tried to ignore it, but the digitized trombone continued playing over a sparse beat. It took him four bars to recognize it as his ringtone—another two to realize what it meant. Without taking the eye mask off his face, JD let go of the controls and reached blindly for the shelf beside his bed until he found the machined slab of glass and plastic. He held it in front of his face and let his VR rig re-create it in the simulation. The screen showed an incoming call from Tektech Logistical Assurances Ltd.

JD swiped and answered: “Yellow?”

“Need you in the shorefront warehouse,” said the terse voice on the other end. JD didn’t recognize their needling accent, but guessed it was out of one of the hellish Brisles call centers.

“I’m not on call until this afternoon,” JD said. With his free hand he brought up the in-game system map, watching for the arrival of Khoder’s crew. The sun shone bright in the center of the chart, but everything was still.

“On-site repair isn’t responding; we need a technician out there immediately. I’ve been authorized to increase your usual pay rate by ten percent.”

JD sighed through pursed lips, stalling while he did the commute math. “Alright, but it’ll take me two hours.”

“Ten a.m., no later.” The call center drone hung up and JD swore. He dropped his phone and heard it land on the bed beside him, crinkling the nylon fabric of his sleeping bag.

Back at the dreadnought controls, JD jammed the throttle. Engines droned louder and the ship’s superstructure popped and groaned, locked tight to the docking ring—the Zero Override linked only to the dreadnought, not Grzyb Station dock controls. The ship strained against its binds, reactor heat climbing until a sharp crack rattled through the hull and it broke free, debris spinning slow past external cameras in a protracted dance.

“Khoder?”

No response.

The soundtrack switched to its battle theme as target lock warnings flared on the console. The cockpit shook with distant impacts as the station’s auto-turrets peppered the dreadnought with plasma. Target reticles flared bright around each cannon as JD took aim. He pulled the trigger; tachyon torpedoes tore through timespace, warping the void. Total overkill, but when would JD get another chance to use them? The torpedoes struck in quick succession, atomic flash bubbling in vacuum as the turrets turned to slag.

Asshole Federation ships rushed through the blasts, hot on JD’s tail. Within seconds, the fighters and corvettes had streaked past, blurs of red against the black of space. The ships stalled and spun toward the dreadnought, turning tight parabolas in preparation for their strafing run. JD keyed the point defense cannons and his vision filled with laser fire tracing the incoming ships. The fighters dodged and swerved, but two corvettes exploded, wreckage carried forward by inertia to collide against the dreadnought’s hull. The fighters closed in tight and opened fire; haptic motors shook in JD’s grip. He checked the system readouts: armor damage minimal, but he’d lost speed. Concussive rounds—flat, heavy slugs better at damping speed than causing damage.

“Don’t have time for this shit,” JD muttered to himself. “Khoder?” he called out again, searching the outer edge of the system where the jumpgate hung serenely, its interlocking rings revolving around a tamed wormhole.

JD checked the distance and his dropping speed: he wouldn’t make it. He removed reactor safeties and throttled up, engine redlined. Federation destroyers burst from the gate, their structures unfolding as they exited wormspace, blocking his escape. Behind him more fighters emerged from Grzyb Station as insomniac Russians logged on in response to the dreadnought heist. The star system map shimmered red as enemy ships converged.

“Khoder?” JD said, voice louder as an edge of desperation crept in.

The jumpgate quivered and pulsed. The Seal Team Dix flotilla emerged from the hidden depths of wormspace—frigates, destroyers, and a Strugatsky Ultracannon, surrounded by a cloud of smaller vessels.

“About time,” JD said under his breath.

“Chill, bro. Sound issues; had to restart.”

Khoder led the fleet in his Khaw crusher and tug—an unconventional warship. It resembled four linked spikes, lined with laser cannons and plated in industrial-strength armor, with enough engine power to haul a midsized space station. The gap between the four spikes glowed pale blue as Khoder powered up the magnetic crushing field. The Khaw’s spikes spread apart as it flew directly at the largest AF destroyer, swallowing the enemy vessel like a colossal mouth. Brilliant flash of light as the destroyer’s reactor casing broke apart under magnetic pressure and the ship collapsed in on itself. The sphere of light churned until there was nothing left but condensed scrap metal. The Khaw was normally used for salvage work, but it didn’t care if the ships it crushed were still operational.

JD’s dreadnought picked up speed as the two factions engaged in battle—laser fire, plasma bolts, and tachyon torpedoes streaking across the dark.

“Thanks for the assist.”

“Thank me with money, bro,” Khoder replied.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your share,” JD said. “Once this dreadnought is out of the way, Grzyb Station is all yours.”

Khoder cut the connection, and JD floated steadily toward the jumpgate, while behind him a system burned.

Julius Dax dropped the soft cotton eye mask onto his bed, and the simulated universe of VOIDWAR turned ghostly as diffuse dawn light burst through his contex. Outside the room’s small window, Neo Songdo looked rendered in parallax: black shadow of low-rise apartments in the foreground, a smear of greenish city in the middle distance, and layers of distant