Attention! You have been killed by player: Hartdegen ID: 4374711912965355 lvl: 15 Respawn in: 9s

Crusty waited as the respawn timer ticked to zero. He had spent the past hour looking in the net for what he could find about the player that killed him. Except for his placements on the ship’s leaderboards despite his low level, he found nothing else. It was an accomplishment, sure, but what’s strange is that despite with his name on the leaderboards, he does not seem to be affiliated with any clan.

Attention! Respawn in: 1s

“Combat loadouts. Take as much explosives as you can. We need to get back on the station and press the attack before they shore up their defenses. Disfigured, take an AT-4 and save it for our dear friend.” Crusty ordered as soon as they respawned. They were back on their guild building inside UNCS Light of the Stars. It was their respawn point within what is considered by the game as private property and shielded knowledge of their deaths from prying eyes.

Getting an entire team wiped out within a couple of minutes was rare, and it was the first time it ever happened to Crusty and his team. Usually, fights are drawn out, allowing both side’s team medic to get the wounded back into the fight, but the attack on the station turned around so quick that they haven’t had the chance to fall back and lick their wounds. Crusty had already run the situation prior to them getting wiped out and concluded that the main reasons for them being taken out was that they were under equipped for PVP. They haven’t expected any problems which led them to tailor their load-outs for PVE and were taken by surprise in an unfavorable position.

It was a mistake that would not happen again.

“I miss my VSK already.” Frostbite muttered as he opened his locker and took an HK MP5SD. The ported barrel and integrated suppressor allowed the submachine gun to fire silently to a point where the weapon’s action could be the only sound heard. The man loved his integrally suppressed firearms and paid extra for the novelty.

“It’s what you get for bringing that thing out.” Greed replied, pulling out an AK-74 with a GP-25 under-barrel grenade launcher attachment, followed by his plate carrier and a bandolier of 40mm grenades.

“What good is it to me if I just leave it here to collect dust?” Frostbite reasoned, “At least I get to enjoy shooting it at much as looking at it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it back.” Disfigured chimed in, retrieving an AKS-74U instead of his DMR setup of a PSL. He wanted to buy the Dragunov rifle that popped up in the market a week ago, but was outbid by an unnamed player. For a while, he tried to find out what he can about the unnamed player to hunt him for the weapon, but the gun never turned up since.

“You all ready?” Crusty called, and everyone nodded. “Good, let’s go then.”

Everyone filed out of the armory and Crusty saw Demented standing on the side, giving him a look, signaling that they need to talk. He nodded to his brother, then turned to the rest of his team. “You guys go ahead. Wait for me at the exit.” He said.

“I heard what happened.” Demented said, after checking that no one was near to overhear their conversation. “You know it’s not going to inspire the confidence you wanted among the leadership, especially when you declared that you can take it all by you and your team.”

“Mistakes happen. I just need to take the station for the guild. I can still do it.” Crusty replied. “We just got unlucky. That’s all. It won’t happen again. I can do this!”

“I know, little brother.” Demented said softly, patting his shoulder. “Honestly, I was kind of happy to see you step up on bigger roles, but you should know that it’s also the job of the leader to know when to ask for help.”

“You saying I can’t do it?”

“Of course you can do it. Just be careful, methodical. Fighting against players is a whole different league compared to mobs and NPCs.” Demented replied, “You already made your mistakes, make sure you learn from it.”

“I will. I already have.” Crusty said, looking at his older brother with a sharp gaze.

Demented sighed. “Go ahead then. You should know that while the guild is still engaged with TAS, no one should notice what happened. If you want your own outpost, then make sure that you all have it secured by the time we finish. With my recommendations, you will have the station under your command if you do.”

“Then I better get going.”

“Good luck.”

Crusty nodded and found his team waiting at the loading bay alongside the guild’s JLTV. It was fitted with a remote weapon system armed with an M2 Browning machine gun mainly used for defense and fire support. It was sent back for more supplies to support the other guild members trying to take another location from another group and keep it for themselves. From the guild chatter, the defense was harder to crack than was expected, which led them to require resupply.

“What did he say?” Zim asked,

“Nothing. He just reminded me, that’s all.” He replied.

With the supplies loaded, Crusty and his team took their seats. He checked once more to make sure that everyone was squared away and made a headcount. Frostbite, their sniper/ infiltrator. His build and personal inclination to integrally suppressed firearms made him perfect for taking down enemies at a distance without their comrades knowing.

Disfigured, their designated marksman. He loves his high caliber rifles and is able to connect shots at extended ranges with reliable accuracy. With the upcoming tunnels, he was forced to compromise with a simple AK-74 due to the tight confines of the tunnels not permitting extended ranged firefights.

Zim, the only female in the group and also serving as their medic. She was armed with a PP-19 submachine gun that was based on the Kalashnikov design. Light and chambered to the common 9x19mm Parabellum cartridge, the weapon fit well for personal defense and could hold its own in an attack. Not that Crusty would even order her in the thick of the fighting, as doing so would only risk getting his medic killed.

And finally, Greed, their assaulter and breacher. He was armed with another AK-74 with a GP-25 underbarrel grenade launcher. The launched grenades would do well in the tight confines of the tunnels. The only problem was that they were too expensive that they could only afford to have a few of them. He also carried an AT-4 slung on his back, just in case they find the need to penetrate through armor.

As for himself, Crusty, an assaulter, was armed with an AK-12 assault rifle. It used the same caliber as the rest of the AK rifles in the squad, as caliber commonality has been a universal rule between all groups.

Everyone crammed themselves inside the truck and sat alongside the crates of ammunition and explosives to sustain the current front. While the rest of his team was stuck to looking out through small viewing ports in the hull of the truck, Crusty took the seat by the Remote weapon system and booted it up.

The vehicle rolled down the ramp and headed north. Using the displays and controlling the weapon with a joystick, Crusty scanned the building rooftops and windows for danger. The system’s thermal imaging allowed easy target acquisition, but there were no targets present, likely cleared out by the guild to make their rear lines safer and easier for their logistics to go through unmolested.

Soon, the streets became more familiar. They passed by buildings they have long scouted and made sure was clear until they arrived at their station.

“We’re here.” The driver said as they rolled up on a ruined structure. It was the entrance to an underground station open to the surface, which, unlike the Songbird, was not buried under a collapsed high rise building.

Crusty and his team dismounted. They all paused, looking into the abandoned station, and exchanged sharp looks. They then nodded and descend the escalators leading into darkness. Their weapon lights revealed missing steps off the escalator platform and they hopped over the gaps, and dead creatures caught coming out of the underground. Currently, they have not respawned, which meant that the path ahead should be clear.

They reached the bottom of the escalators with their lights stabbing through the darkness. Underground, any source of light would give them away to anyone in the darkness easily. Good thing that they came prepared.

“Game face on boys and girls. They are likely expecting another attack, lets not repeat the last time.” Crusty said, lowering his NVGs to his eyes. The pitch darkness gave way to shades of green, and with the help of IR illuminators, could see objects farther than if he used a flashlight instead.

Pillars lined the length of the smaller underground station. Stained and weathered posters lined the tiled walls of the station from years of disrepair. Crusty and his team passed by the relics of the old days past and hopped into the rails, walking alongside it.

With his rifle raised, Crusty alongside Greed stepped ahead while Frostbite, Disfigured and Zim stayed behind to cover them. “Clear.” He said as he reached a pylon and kept his aim forward. “Move up.”

“Moving.” Frostbite replied, moving forwards with Disfigured and leapt ahead of Crusty and Greed while they covered. They then stopped, reported clear up ahead, causing Crusty and Greed to leap past them.

Zim covered their rear, and slowly, they headed towards their objective. Their pace was much slower than the last they had been in the tunnels, but it was the only way to travel in relative safety when expecting enemies up ahead.

Adding from guns loaded with armor piercing munitions, they also made sure to equip expensive PVP gear. Lvl 4 Armor plates protected their vitals in the event their shields fail, allowing better chances for survival and for their medic to pull them out and patch them back together to get back on the fight.

They also packed extra ammo for extended firefights as when they eliminated the players helping defend the station, they still need to bring the remaining goblins to heel.

“Movement.” Frostbite whispered through their radios, raising a hand and took a knee. From his position, Crusty couldn’t see anything, so he hustled forward next to the infiltrator and stared ahead where he pointed.

Up ahead, he could see that they were coming up to the intersection in the rails, where the north-south rail met with the west-east.

In the mouth of the southern intersection, a goblin crouched on the side hidden partially by a control box and was peeking deep into the darkness using its natural nigh vision but could not see them. Slowly, Crusty ordered everyone to back off, and they regrouped out of sight of the sentry.

“What’s the play?” Frostbite asked as they all gathered up.

“We have to take him out, silently. Frostbite, use your MP5. Don’t miss.”

“Would have been better if you had your VSK.” Greed snickered.

“Stow that shit, Greed. It’s all behind us now. Thinking on what-ifs will do us no good.”

“Got it. Sorry, man.” Greed said, apologizing to Crusty then turning to Frostbite.

“No problem.” Frostbite replied.

Crusty watched the two and nodded. “So that’s the plan for now. We need to get as close as we could to their lines without alerting them. If you identify human players, you don’t need to ask for permission and just lay it all on him. Just make sure that you kill him, since we can’t afford to have him get healed while we grind their defenses down. Got it?”

Everyone nodded and moved into their designated position. Frostbite went ahead, flicking his selector to burst and aimed down the track. Kneeling by the center supports, he fired. The MP5SD’s report sounded nothing louder than a muffled sneeze. Save for the weapon’s action cycling, the weapon is as silent as it could be.

As for the target, Crusty watched as the rounds landed center mass. The goblin fell out of sight dead, but its fall triggered a set of prepared noisemakers. Crusty saw it too late. A thin length of string was tied to the now dead goblin, on the other end was a cluster of cans which fell and clattered on the floor.

Against the still silence of the underground, the sound carried far and clear. They knew something was coming now.

Within a second, Crusty weighed whether it would be worth it to continue the attack. If they do retreat, they would allow the defender more time to shore up their defenses and make it much harder for the next attack.

No. Crusty couldn’t afford to back out now. What else could someone willing to sacrifice one of their own as an early warning device could do, given the deviousness and disregard? They have to take the station now, before more diabolical traps and defenses could be prepared.

“We keep going.” Crusty said. He looked at everyone in their team as they nodded.

They continued down the line to see firelight coming from a campfire set in the middle of the tracks. Further ahead of them were sandbag positions where defenders can find cover. Just as Crusty suspected, they moved their defenses further away from the station and made another line. Corpses of Malifs were scattered on the tracks in front of the sandbag line.

Far behind the sandbags, Crusty caught a goblin running further towards their back lines. He couldn’t see the defenders, but he knew they were just hiding, listening as the tunnel was dead silent, that even that they could hear the fire crackling and the distant water trickling into a puddle.

Crusty signaled for Greed to use a grenade. They needed one to flush them out. The distance was too far for a simple grenade throw with the campfire between the lines, illuminating the surrounding darkness.

A goblin head then popped over the cover for a curious peek for it to be rewarded by a bullet instead. Crusty didn’t need to know who shot. It was Frostbite.

If there was any signal for the start of the fight, that was it. Greed shot the grenade at the center pillar behind the sandbags. The 40mm grenade exploded on impact and showered the defenders with deadly shrapnel. Crusty signaled for the rest to open up as he pulled the pin and ran towards the line. Reaching the edge of the firelight, he threw the grenade and watched its arc. Aided by the running start, the grenade landed behind the sandbags, showering the defenders once again with a flurry of shrapnel.

Shouldering his rifle, Crusty charged ahead, capitalizing on both the destructive and concussive effect of the grenade. The others followed, and they all reached the line, rifles up.

Goblins, untouched by the fragments, retreated only to be shot in the back. Others who were stunned and wounded by the blast but still survived were killed where they lay. Seeing it clear, the team went forward, stepping over the dead bodies of Malifs killed by the defenders, when he heard a sharp crack and was suddenly covered with dust and gravel.

…

Crusty came to a couple of seconds later. He was on the ground, looking up at the dark tunnel ceiling lit by the meagre firelight. His helmet was gone, blown away by the blast. With a grunt, he tried to get up only for his leg to collapse under his own weight. He looked at the limb and saw it torn. The blast shattered his shields, mangling his exposed flesh while his vest saved him from being killed instantly. Around him, he could see other figures scattered on the floor, unmoving.

His ears rang, muffling the elated shouting of the goblins surging forwards. To the side of the tunnel walls, he could see more goblins coming from behind them.

The figures on the ground moved. His teammates were still alive, save for one. Greed lay on the floor, unmoving; he was the closest to the explosion and was the only one taken out by it while everyone else was simply wounded.

“Fall back!” Crusty said, knowing their position was indefensible. Broken, surrounded, and caught in a trap, there was simply no way the four wounded with an unknown extent of injuries could sustain a firefight against a suicidal enemy. Demented was right. He shouldn’t have underestimated them.

Raising his rifle, Crusty took out the first goblin to jump above the sandbags. It held a savage knife in its hands as it pounced through the darkness, but the burst of fire caught him in the chest. He landed on his feet but collapsed on the ground, giving Crusty a sliver of hope as he shifted his aim to cover for the rest of his comrades.

Frost came to and tried to get up, but he, too, collapsed. “Alright. Just leave me.” He said, rolling to his back and shooting at the advancing tide. There were just too many of them. They shifted, ducked, and dodged their aim, using their small size and agility to confuse them away from hitting their shots. They jumped in and out of cover to make sure that they get close while other goblins with guns maneuvered to get a clear shot and take them out at a distance.

These were not the goblins they had grown used to fighting.

“Fuck! Fall back.” Crusty repeated. Firing at the mass. His hopes of fighting them back were now dashed. All they could do now was to get out with as much of them alive.

“I’m dead.” Disfigured replied, “I’m a goner.” He pulled out a grenade as a group of goblins converged around him and lunged at him with daggers. His figure exploded along with the group that surrounded him, showering the tunnel with bits of meat and an atomized mist of blood.

Zim couldn’t reply. She tried to get up and fight back, only to be peppered by a volley of shotgun shots. With her shields gone, she was shredded by the wall of lead and fell lifeless on the ground.

Crusty crawled over to the only cover he could find. The center pillars gave him a few seconds of life, but he could hear the beating of feet coming closer, along with the excited and furious chitters of the goblins. They were coming for him. He peeked around the corner and caught one of them in surprise and took him out with a burst of fire. Crusty ducked back into cover, not even bothering if it killed his target, just before a wall of buckshot missed him by a hair.

There was no way out. It was his last stand. He then readied himself for the last valiant push into the fray when a small object landed near him. He didn’t even have a chance to have a good look at it when it exploded with a bright flash and a loud, deafening sound.

The bright flash burned into his eyes and could see nothing but darkness, he could hear nothing but the ringing on his ears and his vision returned a couple of seconds later only to find a goblin, much better clothed than the rest look down at him and point as shotgun on his face. Another bright flash and he saw the system message that he always hated.

Attention! You have been killed by a Goblin Enforcer with a Mossberg 590. Warning: Due to multiple deaths in a day, Level is decreased by 1. You have levelled down to 30! Respawn in (3599s)

The triumphant yells of the goblins echoed down the tunnels. The attackers are dead, and the celebratory mood went down the line and to the station proper like a wave. Bo sighed, letting his rifle dangle from its sling, and looked down at the detonator at his feet. He had expected a follow up attack to come, but not this fast. They were just figuring out how to extend their lines farther to create layers of defense but were caught unaware, which forced Bo to use all the planted explosives.

The traps did their job. Crusty and his team walked right into it, but Bo knew that it would be the last time it would work this well. He only hoped that whatever Hartdegen had planned, it would not end with all their hard work wasted.