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Star Wars VRMMO: Galactic Expedition

Yes, I made the cover myself. Thankfully Photoshop has a free trial. Guess we'll find out if I remember to cancel it or not. The year is 2053. The VRMMO market has been taking off in the last 20 years. Each title is more advanced than the previous. Finally, an unknown entrepreneur is creating a game that introduces an AI that fully manages the game independently. This unknown investor has partnered with Disney to create this game within the story of Star Wars. Kyler Zimmerman is a 22 year old college graduate. Having lost his mother in an accident, his father and him have been struggling for years. They live a moderate lifestyle but can't seem to get past that. His friends drag him along to a store where they were planning to buy VR headsets. Kyle doesn't know why they are going but is immediately hooked when they arrive after seeing that it was a Sat Wars game. What will he find once he enters this new world? DISCLAIMER: All characters, companies, and events in this novel --even those based on real world entities-- are entirely fictional. All representations are made up... poorly. This novel contains coarse language and due to its content it should not be read by anyone.

N3wman · Bandes dessinées et romans graphiques
Pas assez d’évaluations
175 Chs

Surrounded

(I can still see your comments after you delete them so how about thinking before you post. Just a thought for some of you…

Also, sorry for no chapter yesterday. I wanted to release this one but was entirely unable to focus. Been a super stressful work week.)

Without even skipping a beat, Tucker took his right hand off his rifle, letting it dangle using the cord attached to his vest. Then, he reached down towards his right hip, removing the glock from his holster.

He held it by the slide and moved it towards me. "You know how to use this?"

I raised my brows, tilting my head downward as I internally questioned him. I casually reached out, tugging on the glock with the force. It flew out of his hand and directly into my right hand.

Closing my fingers around the grip, I used my thumb to flick the lever on the side, releasing the magazine. There were 9 bullets. Upon jamming it back in, I pulled back the slide and found one bullet in the chamber. I then also checked and found the safety off.

I nodded at Tucker. "Yeah, I think I know how to use it. You got some extra mags?"

Tucker shrugged, reaching up to his vest and pulling three magazines out from a set of loops on the front. He stepped forwards and then handed them to me. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and looked in my eyes. "You alright?"

I scoffed. "What the fuck do you think? There are Russians invading my home!"

He chuckled and took a few steps back. "I know haha. It takes some panic to forget that you're butt ass naked. Go get some clothes, you have ninety seconds."

I glanced down and realized I truly was freeballing. Rather than blushing and being embarrassed, I merely shrugged and made my way upstairs with haste.

Somewhere around 90 seconds later I was on my way back down the stairs. I put on underwear, socks, a black hoodie, jeans, a hat, and sneakers. As I ran down the stairs, I shoved the extra magazines into my back left pocket.

I came back down to find Tucker pushing a bookshelf towards the front door. Was he barricading the house?

I stopped in front of him with my head tilted in confusion. "Aren't we leaving?"

Tucker finished dragging the bookshelf and shook his arms out. "Nope. We're surrounded. Gonna have to stick this out."

I blinked slowly, raising my brow in panicked concern. "For how long?"

He touched his ear. "Reaper, Zephyr speaking, I need ETA for exfil."

After waiting for a few seconds, he sighed. "10 minutes."

A flood of rage suddenly exploded from within me. The temperature in the room plummeted and I swore I saw fear flicker in Tucker's eyes for just a moment.

*PCHH*

I spun around and slammed my fist into the wall, leaving a sizable hole. As I pulled my hand out of the drywall, I felt some of my anger subside.

I smiled and patted the glock that I had tucked into the back of my waist band. "Ahhh, that feels better. I'm gonna go check on my dad."

Tucker nodded. "Good idea. Put him behind something."

I sighed, quickly striding into the dining room. I halted before my father, kneeling down next to him to check on his condition. Here is where my medical training in game would come in handy!

Keeping my eyes on the wall, I counted his pulse over a period of 15 seconds. It was steady and nominal for an unconscious human. I then quickly examined his head, finding a large red spot. I presumed it was the result of blunt force.

I turned my head towards the front door. "TUCKER! YOU GOT A FLASHLIGHT?"

Tucker jogged over, pulling a flashlight out of his vest. "Yeah, here."

He tossed it to me and I caught it, quickly turning it on. I gently pulled back my dad's right eyelid before shining the light away from his eyes and slowly focusing it towards his pupil.

As expected, the pupil contractions were a bit slower than typical. "Light head trauma. Nothing permanent. He'll be alright."

Tucker nodded as he snatched back the flashlight and then touched his ear. "Reaper, Icarus is down." He then glanced at me. "Any idea when he'll wake up?"

I shook my head. "It's impossible to tell."

Tucker sighed and returned to what I assumed was a comm. "I'll keep you posted."

I glanced up from my dad as I felt something strange through the force. The moment I looked up, I noticed several men rushing past the windows in the back of the house. "INCOMING!"

Without waiting for a reply, I dragged my dad to the corner of the dining room opposite the front windows. I would rather not have to also treat a bullet wound.

"Ubey etikh pizd!"

*BANG*

*TUK* *TUK* *TUK*

After getting him in the corner, I barely had enough time to take cover behind the wall before the front door was kicked in, easily pushing aside the flimsy bookshelf. As the front door was broken open, Tucker was evidently already busy in the back of the house. He fired away, each bullet putting a mobster in a body bag.

Upon putting my unconscious father in the corner, I channeled my anger into pure focus. My resolve was steeled in a way I had never thought possible.

Without an ounce of hesitation, I swung around the corner. Two men had already entered the house. My gun was raised and all that was left was to tickle that lever.

*PUCH* *PUCH*

The muzzle flashed twice, sending me back to the days I would go to Eastern Long Island with my Uncle and Mom. My Uncle was quite the gun enthusiast so I had the luxury of firing all kinds of weapons. It was fascinating.

None of that, however, quite matched the satisfaction of hitting a live target. That is, when they are shooting back at you of course. Most of the time, there is no reason to shoot an unarmed target.

Out of the two shots I had fired, one disappeared into the chest of one of the two men while the other missed the mark. Somewhat satisfied with my work, I ducked back behind the wall to avoid being shot at.

*TUK* *TUK* *TUK* *Thud* *Thud*

Three more shots echoed through the air which were then accompanied by the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground.

"CLEAR! GRAB ICARUS! WE ARE MOVING! NOW!"

I tilted my head. "ICARUS?"

"YOUR DAD!"

I sighed, quickly remembering that Tucker had referred to my dad as Icarus when he was speaking to whomever his operator was. "WHY DON'T I GET A COOL CODENAME?"

"IS THIS REALLY THE TIME FOR THAT?"

I pouted as I grabbed my dad's hands. Pulling him into an upright position, I flung him over my shoulders and then held him in a fireman's carry with my left hand. This left my right hand free to hold my gun.

I sighed as I slowly walked towards the kitchen, adapting to having this extra weight on my shoulders in both a literal and figurative sense. "Where are we going?"

Tucker glanced away from the doorway, nodding his head in approval when he saw how I was carrying my father. Did he take me for a greenhorn? "We are gonna haul ass towards that treeline. There's more houses on the other side that we can use for cover."

I raised my brow at him. "Won't that put more people in danger?"

He glanced at me before sighing. "Trigger happy Russians in suburbia already puts anyone within a few blocks at risk. More are incoming. Move on three."

I nodded, accepting his orders. He was just doing his job and I could accept that. Especially when he appears to be quite good at it.

He held up three fingers, counting down. Two… One… "GO GO GO!"

Before I could get through the door, Tucker had already rounded the corner.

*TUK* *TUK*

"CYKA BLYAT!"

*TUK* *TUK* *TUK* *TUK* *TUK

Upon getting outside, I glanced to my right and found five men bleeding out on the grass. Most of them were probably dead by the time they hit the ground based on the blood on their heads.

I started running as fast as I could with a grown man on me. "THANK FUCK HE'S SKINNY!"

As I ran, I heard some footsteps behind me. Glancing over my right shoulder, I saw Tucker backpedaling while maintaining his line of sight on the side of the house. More Bratva quickly emerged.

*TUK* *TUK* *TUK*

"Principal is eastbound. Intercept on corner of Morgan Drive and Deepwood Court."

Emerging from the treeline, a massive house with a red roof entered my vision. With the size of the properties in my neighborhood, it took nearly 2 minutes to run from the back of my house to the back door of this house that was directly adjacent.

Tucker quickly caught up with me and pulled the door open. "Inside. Now."

I nodded and wobbled inside, my legs somewhat sore from running for 2 minutes with my dad on my shoulders. "What now?"

I glanced at Tucker but he was silent with wide eyes. I followed his eyes and then saw what he saw. "Well, shit."