Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy. Meet the Wrights.

Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy. Meet the Wrights.

"Well, isn't this cozy," Veronica said as she climbed up onto a stool.

The cabin had been resized twice, once when the crew had reached tier seven, and again when they'd all reached tier eight. It was a refuge from the vast and cold reality of space, and they tended to spend most of their time there. Bob had summoned a trio of seats for the Wrights that were both sized for their tier five frames, and tall enough to allow them to actually sit at the table.

"Bob does all the work when it comes to actually jumping the Freedom," Jessica replied. "We keep things tidy and take turns cooking."

"You?" Ronald asked, surprise clear in his voice. "When did you start cooking?"

"You should ask if anyone can actually eat it," Melony grumbled.

"I've gotten better," Jessica said defensively.

"She had to," Amanda said, as she took a seat next to Melony. "Not a lot of restaurants in space."

"So, Bob," Ronald said as he leaned back in his stool. "Are you going to make an honest woman of my daughter?"Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

Bob was in the process of sitting down when Jessica's father had asked that question. He paused.

"Dad!" Jessica exclaimed.

"A father likes to know," Ronald replied. "It's not an unreasonable question to ask, is it?"

"Too right," Veronica agreed with a grin. "We haven't heard from you lately, Jessi, but I'm assuming you've caught him, yeah?"

"Actually, I haven't," Jessica said firmly.

"What's wrong with you?" Ronald asked Bob. "I know every father thinks his baby girl is the most beautiful kid in the world, but in Jessi's case, she really is. She's smart, funny, and she got her dad's sense of humor, which makes her the total package."

"I'm gonna clean Monroe's teeth," Bob said. "He's still got customs agent on them, and I don't want him getting sick."

He hurried out of the room.

"Is he gay?" Melony asked sadly.

"No, he's not gay," Jessica replied through gritted teeth. "I told you, he had a rough time when he was young, and he's not interested in a romantic relationship yet."

"Yes, but that was over two years ago," Veronica said.

"Two years of constantly fighting monsters day in and day out," Jessica shook her head. "We didn't get to tier eight by taking it easy, you know. It's been twelve hour days for a long time. And when we do finally get to take a vacation, he finds some emergency to get involved in."

"We saw that bit," Ronald grimaced. "Nasty business, that. Bit of egg on the face for the yanks, yeah?"

"You are still interested in him, aren't you?" Veronica asked quietly. "Or have you moved on to that Jack bloke, or one of those two Thaylanders?"

"No," Jessica shook her head. "Jack's not at all looking for a real relationship, and Harv and Elli are both actually in their early forties." She frowned. "I think? Maybe late thirties?" She sighed. "Reincarnation is a pain that way, not that I'm complaining about turning back the clock."

"So you are still interested, then?" Ronald asked.

"I am," Jessica admitted, "but it's going to be a long haul."

"Unrequited feelings aren't healthy," Veronica said. "Is there any interest on his part at all?"

"A little? Maybe?" Jessica replied. "I know he finds me attractive, and that he likes me as a person."

"Well, that's the important part," Ronald patted her arm reassuringly. "It took me three years before your Mum realized that she was missing out on all this prime beef," he gestured towards his chest.

"I just didn't know what I was missing," Veronica grinned and leaned over to kiss her husband.

"Ugh," Melony complained. "Get a room."

"I bet the beds on this ship are huge," Ronald faux whispered.

"Poor kitty," Bob said as he brushed Monroe's teeth. "That nasty man didn't taste good at all, did he?"

Proper dental hygiene had been established when Monroe was a kitten, and the big Maine Coon had eventually accepted at was one more display of adoration. It helped that there was always a good slicker brush and a treat waiting at the end of the experience.

Bob finished the task by brushing Monroe's tongue, something that his feline overlord had always seemed to enjoy for some reason.

"There," Bob wrapped his arms around Monroe's neck and rubbed face against Monroe's cheek. "All minty fresh."

Monroe began to purr, increasing his volume as Bob summoned a two handed slicker brush and began to apply it to the super sized floofers long, silky coat.

"Such a big strong kitty," Bob rambled. His thoughts were drifting while he groomed Monroe, which wasn't uncommon. Petting his feline overlord was almost a meditative experience.

He might have overreacted. The customs official had been a grade a asshole, but they probably could have just portaled back up to the Freedom and avoided the confrontation.

They had been pretty clear in their intention to detain Jessica though, and Bob wasn't going to let any of his friends get hurt again.

"We should probably get out of here," Bob mused. "I offered to do portal duty for the folks back on Thayland, and I'm pretty sure the President has rounded up the volunteers to go over by now. Once we're done with that, we can head back out."

Thayland wasn't going to be a leveling option, not if he wanted to stay on schedule. He needed to delve Dungeons at tier fourteen or higher, which just wasn't sustainable on Thayland. Considering his delving routine, he needed a tier fourteen or higher world.

The good news was that he could jump the Freedom much more quickly than he'd been able to before, thanks to the System providing an actual spell.

The bad news was that space was still both vast and empty.

"He didn't drop another rod from orbit?" Elania asked.

"No," Taylor replied with a shake of her head. "Monroe literally bit the head off the customs agent that grabbed Ms. Wright, but she healed him back up, so ultimately no one was even hurt. At least not permanently."

"Of course, they're crying to us because Bob is still a citizen of the United States," Elania sighed.

"Yep," Taylor agreed happily. "They included the paperwork declaring him persona non grata along with the complaint. Apparently the whole group teleported back up to their spaceship before they could deliver it to him directly."

"Morons," Elania muttered, taking her turn to shake her head. "The Prime Minister seems to be doing everything in her power to avoid getting reelected," she paused for a moment. "Maybe that's her goal? If so, I can sympathize."

"That's as good an explanation as any," Taylor replied. "The question is, do we need to bring him on the alpha site?"

Elania frowned, and tapped the screen on her tablet. The alpha site was the nickname for the planet that NASA had discovered. It was about the same size as Earth, but wasn't what would have normally been considered habitable, exhibiting no life save for the monsters that had overflowed from the Dungeons.

Fortunately, the people at NASA had not been idle since the System integration. Proving that NASA didn't hire idiots, they'd eagerly leveled up, focusing their builds with an eye toward turning magic toward the problems of space travel. The collars they'd built were a perfect example. Utilizing all four of the elemental control spells, the collars produced a form fitting layer of breathable atmosphere that allowed an astronaut to go for a space walk in their street clothes. The incredibly thin layer of gold produced by the control Earth spell kept the radiation under control.

Best of all, manufacturing the collars could be accomplished with four spell casters at level twenty, less with affinity crystals or if their paths offered the right bonuses. They'd been pumping out the collars consistently for over a year. Every NASA employee wore one, and they'd still had so many that outfitting an expedition to the alpha site hadn't made a dent in the stockpile.

They had sent a thousand brave men and women to establish a beachhead at the alpha site, dropping them directly on top a Dungeon, with twenty teams entering it immediately to shut off the flow of monsters. The remaining nine hundred people had worked to establish a forward operating base, with specialists using magic to construct massive walls and shelters, while others fought to keep the monsters at bay.

The operation could, and likely would, be used as a text book example of how to establish a beachhead on a hostile planet. The problem was that the monsters were in the upper range of tier eight.

Elania was willing to put any of her people up against a monster of equal level. Most of them could easily handle two monsters at their level. Together, they acted as force multipliers to one another, and a group of ten could take on a group of one hundred monsters of equal level.

The monsters were level fifty and higher, while most of her people had barely reached tier six.

They'd been able to fight off the monsters from the Dungeon, but then the monsters from the neighboring Dungeons had filled in the gap.

Reinforcements had been brought in, and I Marine division was now effectively deployed to the alpha site, and while they were able to manage the constant assault, they weren't able to expand their territory.

It had been suggested that having Bob and his friends cover two of the Dungeons would ease the pressure on the beachhead enough that the other three nearest Dungeons could be dealt with, forming a rough ring with the beachhead at the center.

Elania could see the value in the idea. I Marines had been missed already, and another five divisions would start a line of questioning she had hoped to delay. Three divisions would still raise questions, but they wouldn't be quite as loud, or at least they wouldn't be that loud, that quickly.

On the other hand, Bob was a civilian, and had made it quite clear that while he was happy to help people, he wasn't going to operate inside of any chain of command.

She'd been hoping to establish control of the alpha site completely, presenting it as an accomplished fact. Doing so would help to alleviate the problems of too many people for too few Dungeons, while at the same time demonstrating that the United States of America had adjusted to the new reality, and was not only surviving, but thriving.

"Let's go ahead without Mr. Whitman for now," Elania decided. "I'll go over the plan with Ed tomorrow morning."