Oath of the Survivor

Suierrillax looked at Kyle across her desk, the shadow of a smile playing across her face as she spoke.

“You’ve got a flair for the dramatic, Mayhew.  I’m starting to understand how you kept finding yourself in trouble.”           

Given Kyle was still covered in soot and ashes from the destroyed drones, he had a hard time arguing.  He returned to the Courier’s Guild, having headed straight there after finishing his extra request.

[I DO NOT BELIEVE DR. MAYHEW WOULD HAVE LEFT THEM TO DIE, MS. SUIERRILLAX.] C.H.A.D.D. offered.  [I WOULD CATERGORIZE HIS ACTIONS AS MORE ENTERPRISING THAN DRAMATIC.]

The skrell woman leaned forward, black eyes peering at Kyle.  “I think I’d rather call it a pattern of behavior.  In any event, you completed the job ahead of schedule, and the Notus group decided to throw in a handful of extra credits.”

Kyle saw a notification flash up from his nav bracelet at her words, indicating 100,000 credits had been deposited into his account instead of the agreed upon 60,000.  Not a bad day’s work.  In addition to the original 30,000 for the job, Kyle’s account once again looked healthy.  Which was good, given how his shopping list seemed to keep expanding.

Meeting Suierrillax’s eyes, Kyle said, “Pass along my thanks.  Next time they have a delivery that needs done on short notice, I’d be happy to help.”

“I’m sure you would be,” Suierrillax said dryly, sitting back in her chair.  “That’s not the only reason I asked to see you when you got done though, Kyle.  We had a special request come in, asking for you specifically.”

Kyle frowned.  “I’m flattered, but I was hoping to take a few days off.  I’ve got a couple things that I’ll need to take care of, particularly with Jarberry back at the Hub for a while.”

Suierillax nodded.  “I’m well aware, and they assured me that the job isn’t time sensitive.  Remember the dignitaries you worked with from the Verdant Republic?”

 Kyle thought back to some of his early jobs with the Courier’s Guild, and nodded.  “Pretty quick and easy jobs, as I recall.  What, does somebody need their dry cleaning picked up?”

Suierrillax clearly didn’t find Kyle’s joke as funny as he did, and her flat look caused him to get serious.  “Sorry.  What do they need?”

“It sounds like a longer-term assignment, requiring somebody with impressive survival skills, the ability to traverse hostile territory, and somebody currently unaffiliated with the Verdant Republic’s governance.  While it’s ultimately your decision, I believe it’s an opportunity you should consider.”

“Do you have any idea what the pay structure looks like?”  Kyle asked, his interest growing.

“Preliminary discussion is currently sitting at 30,000 credit advance, a 1500 credit per diem, and a 75,000 credit payment due at completion.”  Suierrillax said. 

While Kyle wasn’t terribly impressed by the pay, he could see the attraction of getting a contract like this directly from the Verdant Republic.  It also meant that they didn’t have the talent in-house to take care of the job, which signified to Kyle that the job was likely to be dangerous.  Exactly what I’ll need to get to Level 70.

Kyle had only gained 2 levels in the 6 months since returning from his assignment on Pokke.  While he knew his progress was still impressive in the grand scheme of things, the relative lack of danger in his recent jobs left him itching for an opportunity to really push himself again. 

“How long until they need me to report?”  Kyle asked.

“They agreed to 72 hours from your return for a meeting, then an additional 48 hours before you would officially begin in order to prepare.”  Suierrillax said.

“Sounds good,” Kyle replied.  “And thank you, for everything.”

Suierrillax grinned.  “Are you kidding me?  I’m getting paid more than I ever have to keep you out of trouble.  Now, get some rest.  You’ve got credits to earn for me, after all!”

Kyle could only smile as he said his goodbyes at the Courier’s Guild before heading home.  He could honestly say that he’d found his rhythm.  The pay was good, the work was interesting, and it gave Kyle space to train and develop.  Even if his progress to C Grade stalled, as was the case with many, he was in a position where he’d be able to carve out a comfortable life.

Of course, Kyle had no intention of stalling at C Grade.  He had another skill selection coming up at Level 70, with the capstone skill of D Grade at Level 105 and the evolution to C Grade at Level 125.  From what he understood from his early lessons with Jarberry, the shift to C Grade came with a large power spike, though its progression was gated by one’s ability to keep each class’s purpose unified.

For many, this was a near-impossible task.  If the unity between the classes was insufficient, a person would be stalled at early C Grade – unable to evolve their subclass to D Grade and stuck at Level 60 in their primary race and class.

Similar issues occurred as the subclass broke into C Grade, with the final push only occurring once both classes reached Level 180.  From what Kyle understood, neither Jarberry nor Ghork had approached Peak C Grade, though he suspected Jarberry was closer than he’d let on.  That also spoke to the difficulty of reaching for B Grade, and why the people that achieved it were considered to be at the apex.

Kyle stopped his wandering thoughts as he took the final steps toward his apartment door, sharpening his senses before opening it.  He knew it to be a largely futile effort, but he’d committed to not giving Jarberry the satisfaction of surprising him.  No sounds of eating, no clanking of dishware, Kyle thought.  Synaptic Barbs were fairly limited through the sealed door, and he knew that Auric Perception wasn’t able to detect anything from the imp. 

With a sigh, Kyle opened the door, seeing nothing out of place within.  Jarberry was still such an unknown quantity, even though he’d invested quite a bit into Kyle and C.H.A.D.D.  Kyle would feel much better if he could get a better sense of the imp’s comings and goings. 

For now, he took off the newly updated pack he’d commissioned from the Emerald Armory, taking a moment to admire the quality of the work.  Fell’Zorre and his team had truly outdone themselves.  The pack had a sleek construction, perfectly fit to start at the top of Kyle’s shoulders, tapering down to rest on his hips.  A multisegmented frame offered flexibility and mobility to his back, while still providing support for C.H.A.D.D.

The drone rested comfortably inside the main body of the pack, with several other containers surrounding C.H.A.D.D. which held a variety of other supplies and seeds.  The material itself was incredibly tough, with multiple layers of self-repair inscriptions and defensive wards placed on top of one another to enhance the durability even further.  Using Identify, Kyle could see the mana infusing the metal, only improving his appreciation for the work.

[IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE PACK, DR. MAYHEW?] C.H.A.D.D. asked.

“Not at all.  Just checking to make sure that there was no damage after all the bullets.”

[I WOULD LET YOU KNOW IF I SUSPECTED STRUCTURAL DAMAGE.  I DO NOT RELISH THE IDEA OF FALLING OUT WHILE YOU’RE RUNNING.]

 “A second set of eyes on it can’t hurt,” Kyle said, looking over each piece of the pack.  “All the better to keep you safe and secure.”

Satisfied with the condition of the straps and main pack, he infused a gentle stream of mana, causing small circular vents to open on either side of the pack.  He could barely make out the sphere of thin, twisting vines inside, and with another push of mana sealed the vents shut again.  These were among the most fragile components of the pack, yet they more than held up to the wear and tear of Kyle’s work so far.

Finally, Kyle examined the bottom of the pack, where separate compartments held numerous plant seeds.  C.H.A.D.D. had direct access through the interior of the pack, and could open them from within.  Each of them was still closed up tight, though admittedly Kyle and C.H.A.D.D. had yet to give their new tactics a genuine field test.  Kyle was concerned the potentially violent nature of mid-combat deployments could make resealing the compartments difficult, though there wasn’t much he could do about it at this point.

Kyle settled in with a bowl of fried rice and red meat in a tangy sauce, thinking about all he wanted to get done before his meeting with the Verdant Republic.  His meetings with Jarberry tended to be unpredictable, so he couldn’t plan too rigidly.  There was still work he wanted to do in preparation for his meeting with Marcus Kulhavey, as well as enough reading material to last a lifetime.

Though paltry compared to the amount spent on gear, Kyle spent thousands of credits to build his virtual library.  His primary interest was to learn more about the different species of the Collective, which soon spiraled to include everything from history books to local popular culture and cooking guides.  He found a quiet comfort in reading, a peace that seemed to seep into his very soul.

He was currently reading through a history of skrell medical techniques, which he found surprisingly funny despite the otherwise dry subject matter.  Given his upcoming journey to the Verdant Republic, he doubted it would be terribly useful.  Once he started, however, he wanted to finish.  And with a lifespan now a couple centuries long, he had the time.

After cleaning up from his dinner and reading a while, Kyle found himself staring in his mirror before his nightly meditation.  The dark gray veins of his Ferric Augmentation ran across his body, and he could make out what looked like a fine layer of stubble all over, courtesy of his Synaptic Barbs.  He had always been athletic, though his build was much stronger now.  Dark hair and a tightly trimmed beard framed his sharp features, emerald eyes piercing as always.  With focused effort, Kyle suppressed both the Synaptic Barbs and the Ferric Augmentation. 

He felt an odd sensation across his skin as the veins of gray retreated and the barbs shifted back into the tight weave of his Enhanced Carapace.  For a moment, Kyle saw a memory in the mirror, a face that had grown less and less familiar.  He saw echoes of the young doctor treating minor injuries in a frontier clinic on Earth.  With a smile, Kyle stopped suppressing the skills.  The familiar veins came back, and his sense of the world felt crisp once again when the barbs reemerged.  While he felt the occasional pang of longing for what he once had and been, the new Kyle was building his life at the Hub one day at a time.

He crossed his legs as he sat on the bed, taking time to meditate before calling it a night.  As usual, Kyle’s consciousness was drawn into his center, and he looked at the now-familiar words.

KYLE MAYHEW.  ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (PARASITE), SURVIVALIST.  LEVEL 67 (D)

CORE OF THE PARASITIC DEVOURER 20%

ADAPTIVE ANATOMY – 9/? – ENHANCED CARAPACE (FERRIC AUGMENTATION), AURIC PERCEPTION (SYNAPTIC BARBS), EXOSKELETAL STRENGTH, CEASELESS VITALITY, INSTINCTIVE INTELLIGENCE, COVERT DEXTERITY, UNBREAKABLE WILL

VITALITY: 1000

ENDURANCE: 1141

STRENGTH: 379

DEXTERITY: 732

WILLPOWER: 1435

INTELLIGENCE: 1435

PERCEPTION: 1063

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 0

He’d been stalled at Level 67 for quite a while, though as he reflected on the day’s job, he felt that he was closer than ever to 68.  All he would need was a good push and he’d be there.  Of course, he had a method to increase his personal power not tied to the next level; that being the Core of the Parasitic Devourer.  The fish from his Practicum and Styxlions had both proven to be sufficient nourishment for the Core, and Kyle felt confident he could find other prey that would satisfy its appetite. 

The problem he encountered was finding an environment where he could kill sufficient enemies without causing major harm to the ecosystem.  He’d been keeping an eye out for issues related to invasive species mitigation, though he hadn’t seen anything come up recently.  A longer-term job would likely provide the best opportunity to find the right targets.  His Adaptive Anatomy saved him more times than he could count, and he wanted to see it continue to develop.

Sleep followed meditation, and Kyle drifted off peacefully.  Only to be woken up what seemed like moments later by a loud, familiar voice.

“Come on, lazybones!  Get up, there’s lots to do and not nearly enough time to do it!”

Kyle sat up with a groan, staring at the diminutive purple form floating at the foot of his bed.  The imp wore a tailored suit, as always, and had his trademark grin.  Kyle couldn’t sense any mana from him, nor did he feel the telltale absence of presence many cloaking skills created. 

Kyle rubbed his eyes blearily, and with a flat voice greeted his unexpected visitor.  “Good morning to you, too, Jarberry.”