A/N: Thanks again to my reviewers who have helped keep this story going, as I find keeping focused on a project my biggest challenge. And also to my latest reviewers Kitstarr, Memmek10k, and crazyanimefreak15, thank-you for the comments and complements. Also, for Zerg170 and his hope that Gir doesn't destroy Vegas, I've decided to throw in a few tiny one-shots of Gir during the Vegas Weekend chapter(s). Those are specifically for you Zerg! Enjoy and thanks for that particular inspiration.
Also, as I have never been to such a convention myself, I'm just imagining what one could look like. Don't expect it to resemble real life if you've been to one yourself. I will be writing at times as if players are acting within the game themselves instead of their avatars. In writing this, I found it is not as easy keeping the two worlds separate as one would think. Hopefully I won't confuse anyone. Another note. I won't be naming original characters as they are just competitors and not a real part of the story. I'll just be using their team callsigns. Enjoy!
Zim awoke precisely at 5:00am Saturday morning. It was not necessary to get up at such an early hour, but the alien usually only needed an average of one to two hours of maintenance every couple of days. He had just gotten nearly seven. He got up and scrubbed himself down with his cleansing chalk after making sure Gir didn't hide bacon in it again. Going upstairs Zim ate the waffles Gir had prepared and stored in the refrigerator. He did so carefully, not so much because it was Earth food, but because he had already found a railroad spike in one. Other than that breakfast was uneventful.
However, Zim was admittedly excited about today. In fact he had completely forgotten that his original rationalization for joining Gaz was to measure up the professional soldiers of Earth that happened to be fans of CWZ. Of course it had only been a rationalization, but it had lasted just two days. Although it had been a lot of work, Zim was enjoying this shared project with Gaz very much indeed. Who knew just playing a simulation of blowing stuff up with a human girl could be so much fun for an Invader such as himself?
Gaz woke up early. Well, early for her. About 6:15am. She stumbled half comatose into the bathroom and nearly jumped at the Irken girl she saw in the mirror. She rebuked herself for the momentary stupidity and just as quickly forgave herself since she had gotten up at sunrise. She took her shower, which took longer since she was still a bit fascinated with her now green skin, and carefully brushed her purple hair. She didn't want to tangle those antennae in her brush. While they would not break or get torn off, they were very much attached to her scalp.
She put on her new Irken uniform and her ever present skull necklace, and made sure her keys, ID and cash were still inside. There was no need to put the contact lenses back in her eyes. These were designed to stay in until they were no longer needed, for which she was grateful. Trying to put those monster lenses in would have been unpleasant as they covered her whole eye.
The costumed human went downstairs to microwave her breakfast. A stack of pancakes with loads of syrup and orange juice. She thought she might even toss in a few sausages. Today's game play would require unremitting concentration and she would need the fuel to be at her best. But Gaz was very much looking forward to putting a whole lot of people in their place. Doing so with Zim will be even more fun, she thought to herself.
Gaz pulled up in her jeep and entered Zim's house after knocking a few times informally. She no longer needed to wait for Zim to answer the door for her these days. It was almost time to leave for the convention.
"Hey, Computer. Where's Zim?" she asked.
"Mistress, Zim is located upstairs with the Voot Cruiser."
"Thank you, Computer," was her reply.
Gaz actually liked the computer. While it had no interest in games, it was a descent enough player, and able to control up to ten opponents at a time. Also it always treated her with esteem and dignity, like she belonged there. Gaz laughed internally as she imagined the computer as her high-class butler. It wasn't a tremendous stretch of the imagination, and listening to the difference between when the computer spoke to Zim and herself had been entertaining during their preparations.
She stepped onto the elevator platform and rose up into the ceiling to the attic where the cruiser was prepped and waiting. A muffled robotic squeal greeted her. Zim was silently going over the preflight safety checklist of the spacecraft with Gir mumbling something very loudly to Gaz. The robot in his dog costume was laying at the undisguised alien's feet bound and gagged like a piece of luggage.
"Hey there, Gir. How you doing?" Gaz asked the crazy robot as she walked up to Zim near the cockpit.
"Mpth Vrt Ffwlp" was the happy answer. Gir was always happy when Gaz came back. Almost to the point of exploding it often seemed like.
"That's nice," Gaz replied in return. It didn't matter what the robot had said. It's expression was clear enough. "How about you Zim?"
Zim did not look back at her busy with his checklist, holding it in the air with a spider limb. "Zim is GREAT! Only one more item to check off and I can load up Gir. Then we will be ready to KICK HUMAN HINNEY!" Naturally Zim yelled the last part with both fists in the air.
Gaz chuckled to herself at Zim's antics. She had been doing that more and more often as time passed. It amazed her how just knowing Zim like she now did made him less annoying, even lightening her mood at times. She stepped up to the Voot Cruiser and an alarm sounded within the ship. Zim now turned toward her scowling, which disappeared when he saw the Irken-looking girl in the purple hair.
"You forgot your transponder again, didn't you?" the alien asked. He sighed, turning away for the elevator. Gaz just slapped her forehead. "Wait here and make sure Gir doesn't escape."
Zim returned a few minutes later and handed the green gemmed collar to Gaz, who stuffed it deep in her pocket. "You can't forget again. Zim doesn't have another one if you forget tomorrow too." He did not look happy.
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. Look, I'll write myself a note," Gaz said in apology. She really did feel bad about forgetting again. She pulled out a small notebook and stubby pencil Gaz kept on her for whenever she came across new game codes. She wrote herself a note, tore it out and hooked it though a hole to her keychain. "See? When I unlock my door tonight I'll remember. Okay?"
"Very well." Zim was not entirely convinced. "But I shall pick you up tomorrow at your house just in case."
Gaz just agreed. Even she had to admit that she deserved that bit of mild skepticism. She watched Zim pick up the bound and gagged Gir and toss him unceremoniously into the back of the Cruiser. Closing the hatch Zim looked at his partner. "Then we are ready. Shall we, Gaz-partner?"
Gaz let herself smile a fierce grin at Zim. "Oh, yes. Let's go kick human hinny."
And with that the two partners climbed into the Voot Cruiser, buckled up, and closed the canopy. The house roof split open and the spacecraft shot off into the sky.
The suborbital flight took the Voot Cruiser up nearly out of Earth's atmosphere and back down to a nearly empty Nevada Highway leading into Vegas. The ship hovered inches above the pavement as it flew along toward the city. In another ten minutes they would arrive.
Zim had decided this route would be a better one than simply landing in front of the parking area. It was more low key and would attract less attention. While he had been a bit nervous of flying his obvious spacecraft along a main highway leading into a major population center in the middle of the desert, this had been relieved as a group of humans passed him driving a very large toilet bowl car. They had been wearing toga's that looked as if made from giant paper squares flapping in the wind.
The alien had wanted to point out this example of human absurdity, but Gaz had fallen back to sleep soon after takeoff. In fact, soft whispered snores were sounding from the right side of the cockpit. If they had been emitted by anyone else, Zim would have been very annoyed. But those sounds were soothing to Zim right now. It was the sound of all being well in the Gaz-partner's slumber. Besides, anything was better than Gir's six months long Doom song. It had taken Zim a long time to recover from that experience.
Gaz awoke to the sounds of a city's early morning traffic. She looked around the bubble canopy and saw they were now moving along the street towards a parking structure a few blocks from the convention center. She motioned Zim to open the canopy as they pulled up, and paid the attendant the parking fee with a couple of bills. The facility had just opened up and was mostly empty, but vehicles were already starting to pull in.
Upon reaching their assigned space, the Voot Cruiser thumped onto the concrete and powered down. Zim and Gaz hopped out. The green girl stretched her legs as the green alien walked behind the Cruiser to open the hatch and pull Gir out. Zim untied the robot in the dog suit.
"Gir! While the AMAZING Zim and the Gaz-partner are putting the humans in their rightfully low place beneath our heels, you may tour the city as you like. Make sure to leave at least half of it standing by the time we are done."
Gaz let out a not-so-subtle cough.
"I mean most of the city," Zim corrected.
Gaz now cleared her throat.
"At least ninety percent of the city."
"ZIM!"
"FINE!" Zim hollered back over his shoulder and rolling his eyes. "Gir, you may not destroy anything during the competition."
"Oookey dokey," Gir responded. He turned and walked away taking in the sights and sounds of the new cityscape.
"Much better," Gaz said as she walked up to Zim.
Zim looked back as the costumed girl. This mild squabbling over nothing was trying, and yet strangely gratifying at the same time. The mismatched expression on Gaz's lower face and her eyes said something along those lines too.
They turned and left the garage, crossed the increasingly busy street and approached the convention center. It was only a little after 8:30am, but the crowds were already starting to roll in. The games would officially begin in one hour. As they walked across the open plaza to the row of doors leading inside Gaz's heart rate increased. Yes, she was nervous. After all this was a big event, and while she was good, she had never actually been to one before. She looked over at Zim noticing their pace had slowed somewhat.
Zim definitely looked uneasy, looking back and forth with his solid red eyes and antennae twitching lightly. Gaz looked around, seeing only a crowd of humans. Then something clicked in her brain. One alien in the open without a disguise in a quickly gathering crowd of humans. Perhaps looking like his Irken self for the first time being surrounded by humans. And he had a thing about exposure.
Gaz stopped and called to her partner. "Zim." He stopped too. "Zim, look at me."
Zim looked at Gaz, her green skin, solid amber eyes, and antennae. Similar enough to his own appearance. She leaned in closer to him. "Zim, there are no aliens here," she softly told him so she wouldn't be overheard. "Just two people that look Irken and you just have the most authentic, awesome costume on Earth."
Gaz reached over and took his three fingered hand in her five fingered one. The message was clear to Zim. Don't worry. I'm with you. I got you covered. I've got your back.
Gaz took a deep breath and Zim followed her example, and began to feel better. Next to an Irken looking Gaz-partner and among other humans in various (and much more ridiculous) team costumes and made-up uniforms no one would see Zim as different. It was the perfect camouflage, hiding in plain sight. His tension eased back to normal.
Zim nodded a thanks to Gaz and the two walked inside, hand in hand.
After standing in one of many registration lines, Gaz signed them in, had their GameSlave 3's scanned for their network serial numbers over their primitive wireless link. The lady registering them as competitors handed them a yellow event schedule and two sticky nametags still yet to be peeled off their protective sheet.
"Be sure to read this over," the lady droned flatly. She was going to have to repeat herself hundreds of times in the next few hours. "There have been a few changes this year."
The pair moved out of the way and into the hall leading into the main convention area. She led Zim by the hand to a less crowded zone. He looked at her nametag as she doodled something on his, using the wall as a surface. On the top corner of the tag was her name, "GAZ", in smaller letters. Along the bottom in slightly larger lettering was their team name, "Impending Doom".
Zim had gotten a kick out of that one when Gaz had suggested it. She thought if they were going as Irken Invaders, they may as well play the part. To a degree of course. Zim naturally approved.
In the middle in the largest and most readable letters was her CWZ user name. "The Wind."
Gaz finished and handed Zim his own name tag. There was his own CWZ user name. "The Whirlwind." Up in the blank corner Gaz had drawn in her caricature of the tornado with fierce eyes and a missile launcher over its shoulder. Plain to see, yet not making the name tag illegible. Zim placed it on his chest where she pointed it should go, and then asked for his partner's tag.
He doodled with her pencil for a minute before handing it over to the girl. As she looked at it she smiled. Up in the blank corner was her own caricature that Zim had drawn for her. It was a storm cloud with it's arms raised over its head and fingers stretched forward as if in pursuit of a fresh victim. It's exhalation of doom from puckered lips was in the process of uprooting trees and overturning cars.
"Thanks, Zim," Gaz said as she slapped the name tag to her own chest. "Okay, here is what the schedule says. It starts out loosely structured. We can start anytime after the event begins until 1:00pm. We'll be automatically linked against random teams in the convention center. The sixty teams with the best average scores graduate to the computer network. Instead of a best 2 of 3 games setup like last year, when one of those teams gets called up they have two hours to get another best average score. The top ten teams will then…" she paused.
Gaz looked intently at Zim. "Tonight they will be given a free copy of the new CWZ II: Online that will be used in the finals, six months before it's release date. You are going to get me that game, ZIM!"
"You doubt the MIGHTY ZIM?" The alien struck an absurdly heroic pose. Gaz was not impressed.
"Whatever. Just get me my game. Tomorrow is dedicated to the top ten teams running the new edition against each other in the virtual cockpit rigs. Standard 3 out of 5 elimination rounds. The audience will be able to watch on the big screen displays."
"Excellent. Once we have the new edition, we will be able to practice on the system back home," the alien schemed. "We will be more ready than anyone else!" He cracked a maniacal laugh.
"Think again, Zim. You can do that. I will need sleep."
"Oh, right. Zim will examine, prepare, and fill you in tomorrow."
"Okay." Gaz looked at Zim with a cocky sort of smile. "You ready to pulverize our competition?"
He looked at her as if she had asked a rather dumb question. "Zim is always ready to squish things into gooiness. IT WILL BE GLORIOUS GOO!"
Gaz just shook her head as she grabbed Zim and lead him into the main convention area.
Lights flashed on the police cars stationed around a rundown house as officers in SWAT body armor took up positions. Someone with a bullhorn was calling for someone else to surrender, who was yelling something unpleasant back. A flash-bang grenade and tear gas canisters sailed into the window and detonated with loud pops. SWAT officers moved in, pouring into the house yelling repeated commands.
Outside on a fence sat a green dog with a filthy pig he had met on a farm just outside of city limits.
"I like this show." Gir told the pig, stuffing his face with popcorn. The pig grunted in response.
The main auditorium was a very large structure, yet it seemed crowded. There were vendors everywhere selling souvenirs, food, games, T-shirts, books and nearly everything else they could get people to spend their money on. Along the outer wall was the roped off computer network section where technicians were testing the hundred desktop systems for readiness to allow up to twenty five-player teams to play at once. And over to one side of the convention center was the large platform area where ten of the cockpit rigs, identical to the ones Zim built in Gaz's Gaming Den, were positioned.
Most of the thousands that were attending were teens and college students that lived within a five hour drive, but not serious competitors. They were here for the promotional side of the event, introducing new gaming products, and hanging out with online friends in person. The majority of this category would come and go as the day wore on.
Those were referred by the real gamers like Gaz as cannon fodder. They were not a threat in the gaming world, and it was entertaining to watch them try as she and Zim mowed them down on their GameSlaves. Zim and Gaz had found a table near the edge of the milling throng where they could sit and not be too bothered by the commotion.
"Zim, I've got five rifle infantry on my tail. Making my way to the village now," Gaz spoke to her partner as her sniper character dashed through jungle. "Will enter on your two-one-zero."
"Understood. Zim is in position, standing by."
Gaz slowed a little, not wanting to open the distance too much as her pursuers were not as fast. She broke out into the open and ran to the buildings of the village. Short bursts of fire came behind her. She ducked around a corner, then another to maintain her course. Crossing the village square she entered one of the far huts and took a position in a window. The five in pursuit came in to the square and opened up with suppressive fire, peppering the window and causing Gaz to duck down while two opponents moved forward.
"Okay, move in."
Zim's Gun Tank turned the corner from where it was concealed and into the village square from the north. The alien mashed down a button and twin autocannons roared to life as his MBT charged into the open space. The opposing team turned to run as they began to get hosed. Gaz popped back up and aimed. All opponents were down in less than seven seconds.
Far off they could hear a series of "What the?" Gaz answered with a loud call of "Don't bring a rifle to a tank fight!"
"Noobs," she muttered as she climbed into her Scout GEV. Gaz zoomed off with Zim's MBT trailing behind her.
"Yes," Zim agreed. "That was even worse than a typical rookie mistake. Zim believes they will all use their heavy armor next. This will restrict them to the main roads. You should be clear in the jungle once you proceed on foot."
"Will do. I'll park up ahead near the bridge and swing wide through the river crossing downstream. If you deploy in front of my car they may think I'm still in the area to pick them off if they try to cross underneath. Think you can hold them?"
"Zim will hold their attention. Back up plan will be to draw them back to the village and pick them off one at a time in the streets." Tanks did not do well when it came to point blank PPG fire and sticking their noses around corners to check for hostiles. This particular team was very inexperienced and had little teamwork. Played more like a mob.
"Understood," was Gaz's response. Placing proximity mines around resupply depots and trails leading from spawn points always got a reaction from those who encountered them. Usually along the lines of unfair.
She parked her Scout GEV behind a boulder and took off on foot into the trees as Zim settled his MBT near another and pointed his turret down the center of the bridge. Zim could hold this chokepoint for several minutes with his engineer driver to help repair the tank. Then their opponents would respawn and run into Gaz's proximity mines as they ran straight to their vehicle park. The confusion would delay and confuse the other team and give her time to secure mission objectives which was where the real points were earned. Gaz really did like these jungle maps! There were so many opportunities to be devious.
Zim popped off another heavy rocket at an MBT and ducked back behind his rock. Zim hates deserts, he thought. More autocannon fire sprayed the boulder in front of his rocket infantryman. Two of the opposing MBT sat at the passage leading to their base held off by a field of anti-tank mines. Zim had taken out one of the four before losing his own rocket tank, and another has strayed into the mines. Zim was still taking pot shots at the two that were left.
"Zim is on foot, but holding. Sitrep?"
"Same. They've got air support that took out my tank. I've got one MBT and now an APC pulling up. Think the APC will cover an engineer driving that MBT as he tries to clear these mines. Yep, there he goes. Oooh, didn't expect a proximity mine in the AT ones did ya?" Gaz let fly her own shoulder launched ATm and ducked back under cover from the torrent of fire from the APC. It was too close to use mortars, but if it backed off she could run forward and plant more proximity mines to interfere with clearing the AT mines.
At the first desert map they spawned into they had put their defensive strategy to the real test. The reasoning was to see if it actually worked early in the competition against inexperienced teams and refine it for later. Unfortunately what they had got was NOT an inexperienced team. It had turned into a siege, and all Zim and Gaz could do was hold the line. While they had knocked out two more vehicles than they had lost and were in the lead in that sense, they had not reached any mission objectives and were behind in points.
"Zim, we can hold these guys off for another hour probably, but it's dragging our average score down. I need to break out of here to go for the objectives."
"What do you need of Zim?" he asked.
Razor Charlie sprayed another autocannon burst from his APC. "Bravo, what do you have on your end?"
The five members of Team Razor was sitting circled around a table intent on their GameSlaves. They were young men, but all were die-hard Royal Marines from England and had been planning this vacation for three months. They were definitely NOT one of the noob teams. "Yeah, all I can see is one guy on this end. Looks like rocket infantry covering a minefield."
"Same here. Echo, make a low pass and see what else is in there."
"Roger," Razor Echo acknowledged. His aircraft made a single swoop over the enemy base. A missile warning came up and he swung high into evasive maneuvers. "I confirm only two player IFF tags. Rest are NPC's"
Razor Alpha whistled. The other side was doing pretty good for only having two people in it. Given their prepared fortifications they clearly knew what they were doing. That proximity mine in the middle of the AT field had been a nasty surprise to him. He had now respawned and was on his way back in a Scout GEV to quickly get back in the tank he abandoned. But they had the other team contained and would eventually push their way in to secure more mission objectives.
"Hang on," Razor Delta called. "My guy is moving off. Looks like he's falling back."
"Probably going to their GEV park for more firepower," Alpha thought out loud. "Bravo, can you clear those mines? Delta you cover him. See if you two can breach their perimeter."
Two acknowledgements came back as Charlie put another burst from his APC's autocannon at his defender's side of the siege line. That player was still taking shots at him with rocket fire. Most likely another rocket infantry judging from that ammunition supply and the damage he had already accumulated. Fortunately Alpha was on his way back to him with an engineer kit.
"I've got movement on their airfield," Echo informed his team.
"Airfield? That makes no sense. Are you sure they only have two guys?" Bravo asked.
"Making a strafing run now." Heavy autocannon rounds burst from his aircraft. "Okay, its somebody called Whirlwind in a plane. That your guy?"
"Yeah that's him. What are they up to? They need all they have to hold the approaches."
"I'm not going to complain. Echo, keep your guy busy while we breach the perimeter. We only have two minutes left on the timer."
"On it." Echo circled back around. "I took a missile hit earlier, but I got a burst on him too. Looks about even." The aircraft ahead of him reached into the sky and wobbly banked south. Razor Echo grinned. This would be easy. The software wasn't interfaced well for the aircraft aspect of the game, but Echo was a Marine Aviator. He did this for a living.
Alpha caught back up with Charlie and began repairs to his APC while Charlie spat a stream of fire at his opponent to keep his head down. Then Alpha would hop back in his MBT.
Echo reported some more to his teammates. "Pulling in behind him now. He's not even taking evasive. Looks like making a run for our base." Echo increased the power setting more to close the distance. He came into range and open up with another burst, taking off most of the health points on his target. He lined up again and fired. "Dang it, he bailed out at the last second. His plane is going down but he made it out." Echo pulled up and into the sun.
Alpha responded. "Understood. Come back around and help us take down this Wind character. Then we can hit their base in a pincer movement and rack up some points." He climbed back into his tank as Echo swung back to begin another strafing run.
Charlie's APC swung back to increase the range while Alpha moved his MBT to the far side of the minefield to get an angle on their opponent as Echo swung in up above. Alpha and Charlie opened up with concentrated PPG and mortar fire as Echo fired a salvo of missiles. Multiple explosions pounded their opponent's position. "Good job guys," Alpha praised. "Wind is down. Now let's get through this minefield before he comes back."
Several acknowledgments came back. Then Echo called out. "Missile fire, AAm inbound! Multiple AAm's inbound."
"ATm's, I've got multiple ATm's," Delta and then Bravo chanted. Delta continued, "Their IFF's, repeat IFF's!" Fire-and-Forget guided missiles branched out.
"I see two more missile trails heading to you Alpha! Probably unguided, long range, take evasive now!" Echo called as his aircraft twisted in the air. "Two more AAm's in the air!"
Two ATm's slammed into Delta's MBT, then two more impacted Bravo's. "Delta down."
"Bravo down."
Echo's aircraft dodged two AAm's as they tried to circle back on him and then two more crashed into the plane. "Echo down."
On Alpha and Charlie's screens a flash of white blanked out the entire display. "Alpha down."
"Charlie down."
All their GameSlaves went black. The game had timed out, and was uploading data.
"What the bloody hell just happened? Where did all that fire come from?" Charlie asked rubbing his hair.
Alpha began snapping orders. "Log into the main server and switch to standby status." He entered commands into his own GameSlave. "Bring up your game logs." He pulled a pencil and notebook out of his uniform pocket. The others crowded around to share their displays.
Echo: Missile IF hit 32hp to The Wind.
Echo: Missile IF hit 16hp to The Wind.
Charlie: Mortar IF hit 23hp to The Wind.
Charlie Mortar IF hit 19hp destroyed The Wind.
Delta: ATm direct hit 500hp from The Whirlwind.
Delta: MBT/Player destroyed by ATm critical hit 438hp from The Whirlwind.
Bravo: ATm direct hit 500hp from The Whirlwind.
Bravo: MBT/Player destroyed by ATm critical hit 403hp from The Whirlwind.
Echo: AAm hit 400hp from The Whirlwind.
Echo: Aircraft/Player destroyed by AAm hit 23hp from The Whirlwind.
Charlie: APC/Player destroyed by Tactical Nuke 1 flash hit 10,000hp from The Whirlwind.
Alpha :MBT/Player destroyed by Tactical Nuke 2 flash hit 10,000hp from The Whirlwind.
Total team kill by The Whirlwind. Bonus points awarded.
Victory for Impending Doom.
Alpha added two more names and the team to his list in his notebook. Then looking at it, underlined the first two three times.
Only one thing could launch nukes, and their logs showed who had. But the end had come so fast that they were having trouble recollecting just what happened.
"Okay, skull session," Alpha declared. While Echo was a fighter jock, Alpha acted as an ad hoc intelligence grunt in his armor company's command-and-control vehicle. This sort of thing was what he did for a living. "I want to know who just smacked us down like a bunch of kittens on catnip. Delta your sketchbook and pencils please?"
Alpha wasn't the highest ranked of the group, but he was the smartest so he was in charge on this vacation.
Delta liked to draw in his spare time so always had sketch materials. So when Delta handed the large pad and colored pencils over, Alpha began to draw out the terrain, his own as well as Charlie's position, the minefield, and where Wind was in cover as well as the estimated health points. He slid it over to the others where they drew themselves in. Alpha picked up a colored pencil and drew in his own maneuvers. The others drew theirs in next. Echo's was of course very loopy at the end as he was trying to evade anti-aircraft missiles.
Next Alpha drew in their firing sequence, numbering them in order, then had the group draw in the hostile missile paths in order. Again Echo's was the most challenging, but the fighter jock knew his maneuvers and the angles of attack of the incoming missiles at key points. He could fill in the blanks fairly accurately.
All the hostile tracks converged on a single point. "Okay, Whirlwind made an escape for the walker. That's obvious in hindsight," Alpha stated. Nobody went for the walker in the first hour of the convention. This was the stage of teams sizing each other up, not going for broke. "Then he came back to reinforce their position. But stopped here," pointing to the source of the missile tracks.
"Okay, let me think." Alpha slapped his own notebook down and stared at the display before him, picturing each element, its order and speed as it all moved in slow motion in his mind. All of their units had been at half strength, but it had been enough for a final push.
Something was missing. The missile tracks weren't adding up in his mind. The order seemed all wrong.
Charlie was looking too, scratching his chin. "Wind is an odd name in the gaming world. Are we sure it's a guy?"
Alpha's brain when CLICK. That's when their game fell apart around them. When Wind went down Whirlwind stopped and fired his salvos. Alpha went back to the missile tracks carefully. The ones between the walker and where Alpha and Charlie had been were the longest.
"Okay guys, when we took down Wind, the first thing this guy did was fire a nuke at me and Charlie with our names practically written on them. Specifically at each of us. One was overkill, but that wasn't good enough. Wind probably gave him our exact positions. Then he lobbed two AAm's at Echo, probably as a distraction. Then he went after you two," pointing at Bravo and Delta, "just to knock you out of the picture. Then came the next pair of AAm's for the kill shot on Echo."
The other four were nodding. It was logical. Alpha continued. "Here's the unnerving part."
"These are the impacts." He tapped the map on their ending positions roughly in the order and timing that they went down in. Tap Tap, Tap, Tap Tap. Nearly simultaneously. "And the two nukes landed on their targets precisely enough that I didn't even register splash damage from his before my nuke did me in from thirty meters away."
"And now for the scary part. Everyone who helped take down Wind raise their hand." Alpha, Charlie and Echo raised hands. "Now those who got hit with double or more firepower to take us out raise their hands." No hands changed positions. "Now those three that got taken down last." Again no hands changed positions.
"When we took down Wind, this guy fired at us first for total overkill, yet did so in a way that saved us for last. He did this on purpose. This was a precisely planed and accurately executed fire order with multiple outgoing vectors and I'm betting he did it in less than five seconds."
Whistles went around the table. "He's military. Thinking Fire Support Coordinator?" Bravo asked.
"I'm guessing both sides. The kind of guy who knows how to not just coordinate, but also how a pilot needs to lay them in to achieve a precise pattern," said Echo. The fighter jock knew something about that sort of work and knew exactly what it took to do it right. "The kind that goes in alone at night, plots GPS coordinates for a couple dozen stationary targets, then lights up anything moving with a laser designator before he guides in a B-52 to carpet the area with guided munitions so everything goes up at once. Probably had flight training but doesn't have the knack. He probably can't dogfight or do complex maneuvers. At least not in the game."
"You're talking a Special Forces type. The kind as in where they went to preschool is considered classified."
"Wow, now I don't feel so bad about getting our rear ends kicked up over our heads," said Bravo.
Alpha was looking at his notebook. Something was still nagging at him, like a piece was still off. Wind. Whirlwind. He looked at his GameSlave. The names weren't written down right. He made the adjustments. The Wind. The Whirlwind. Why did that sound familiar? Forces of nature, but that wasn't it. Not something unusual in the gaming world after all. But this particular combination felt more like something when his grandmother used to speak about old sayings. He thought for a moment before going still and writing in a few more words. He just looked at his notebook for a minute.
"Uh, guys." Alpha said. The others looked at him. "We just covered the logical, unnerving and scary parts, right?" They grunted. "I may have just found the paranoid part." He showed him his notebook.
(They sow )The Wind(, they will reap )The Whirlwind.
Team Impending Doom
"Guys, this was not an attack. This was a bloody message. Don't mess with The Wind. You and everyone with you will be utterly annihilated simply as a warning for others."
"Okay, we're a team." Delta pointed his finger to include all of them, then pointed at the notebook. "That is way more than just a team."
"Oh, bloody hell. We ganged up and pissed on the guy's wife."
"What she might be isn't conclusive. We'll call it a single male/female integrated pair, and every other team here has at least four or more people." Bravo pointed out. "They deliberately came here outnumbered at literally every match, and these people are serious players. They did not come here just to goof off or out of some fools errand. That says they think they can get to the finals on their own."
Alpha shook his head. "If they just thought that they'd bring a few more with them just to make sure." He tapped the map they had drawn to emphasize a point. "Nope, they know they can. As a fact. They didn't come here to play against the competition. They came to destroy the competition. So here's what we do. Keep your mouths shut. We proceed as planned, but when we go on breaks mill around and keep your eyes and ears open. I want to ride their coattails in and they will take out a lot of the competition. If you hear anything about a pair, and these two names in particular, tell me. I want to know what they can do. We might even see them in the semi-finals if there are several empty computer stations around them."
"Now," he continued flipping a page in his notebook, "I've got ten quid on wife. Anyone want to bet on twin sister?" He wrote the bets down.
The game had closed down and Gaz looked at Zim. "I thought we agreed on you holding back."
"That was me holding back. I stayed at maximum missile range and fired at the last possible moment." Zim looked at her with his red eyes. "Besides everyone we know knows better than to mess with the Gaz-partner. These people do not. Should they not learn that messing with the Gaz-partner brings unpleasant experiences?"
Gaz couldn't fault the alien for that. If there was one thing she had lived by all these years it was Don't mess with Gaz. Bad things will happen. She couldn't blame him for following that line of thinking when something impacted her. "Alright, but you can't do that all the time. Now let's go stretch our legs for at least five minutes. Mine are falling asleep."
So with that they powered off their GameSlaves and wandered about the vendor's stalls.
They had no clue of Team Razor's discussion taking place on the other side of the convention as they did so. The Razors conclusions were based on a few incorrect but logical assumptions, mainly that both were human and lived normal human lives. So they were off on quite a number of details, but it was a bit eerie as to how close they were overall.
A/N: Okay, that turned into a long chapter, and when I started I didn't intend to write extensively about any of the other competitors. Also, this chapter was supposed to cover the entire first day, but ended up covering only the first hour! But an idea struck me as I was going along and would not leave me alone so I went with it. Hope it works for you readers! I tried to make it plausible and not too clairvoyant, but you can learn a lot about a person by watching their exaggerated responses.
I've also been thinking about the Wind/Whirlwind proverb since about chapter five or earlier and how much it can become a part of the story. While it seems unlikely that Zim would have deliberately learned of this old saying, who knows what his subconscious has picked up in all the years he's been on Earth. Maybe it's trying to tell him something. That's my thought and I'm sticking to it. :)
Also, I figure that if a team were to go to the extent of traveling several thousand miles to attend a video game competition, they would have to be very, very good and not just your average stink-humans. Not that they would ever notice an alien even if he was sitting next to them! Zim clearly just has a skin condition. I will continue to exclude OC names as they are unimportant to the story. May change that later if its necessary.