Alpha Strike: [An interstellar Weapon Platform’s Guide to being a Dungeon Core] (Book 2 title)

Book 1: GRIM Adventures – 5



Grim threw her hands into the air. Hurrah! The lexicon worked!

She and the others had worked out a few signs for communication, but being able to talk to people would make things sooooo much easier. She might even be able to convince her new friends to help look for the Boss’s arm! Hurrah!

She floated up from her resting spot to see if Icy Lady or Tree Guy were ready to talk… only to find the pair arguing under the strange tree, occasionally pointing up at Mr. Gopher as he sat in the branches, munching on a nut… and still casually on fire…

Her coding told her that should be a problem, but Mr. Gopher didn’t seem to mind, so Grim ignored it. It looked like they had some… issues to work out, so Grim floated back to her resting spot and settled in. She might as well review some more logs while she waited.

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//Loading audio-visual logs… please wait…//

[Icy lady and Tree guy take a nap] - Na, saw that one already.

[Nice old lady stirs pot for 3 hours] - Not that one either. It was boring the first time.

[Nice old lady babies little sapling] - Hmmmm, maybe? She did talk a lot… Na, trees don’t make skilled conversationalists.

[Mr. Gopher raids the garden] - Oh! That one! That was fun.

Grim selected the file and booted it up.

The world flickered, and then the burning cottage and giant tree were replaced by the scene from the past.

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Grim floated away from the window and sighed. She was bored with watching. After Icy Lady and Tree Guy started their nap, not much had happened. The nice old lady had wandered around the cottage and done various chores.

Sweeping the floor.

Organizing her bookshelf.

Stirring a big pot in the kitchen.

Beating back the large clawed hand that tried to crawl out of the pot with a wooden spoon.

Watering the pretty tree in the middle of the living room with whatever was in the big pot.

Well, was it still “watering” if the liquid was red and oily?… and on fire?

Grim had no idea. She wasn’t programmed to garden. Maybe she could ask Icy Lady and Tree Guy when they woke up. Wait! Maybe Mr. Gopher would know! He liked plants! Well, eating them, but still, Grim bet he would have an idea. Mr. Gopher was smart.

Even if they couldn’t talk to each other, he’d taught Grim lots of things. Like how to pull out the big roots and where to look for nuts! That was almost gardening, wasn’t it?

Grim twirled around in the air, looking for Mr. Gopher, only to find he’d left sometime during Grim’s observation. That made sense. Biologicals got distracted easily, in her experience, even if her experience was only two strange humans, a large rodent, and lots of hostile wildlife.

Grim wandered around the area looking for Mr. Gopher and found him near the back, crouched behind a large boulder. She floated over to him and started to speak, telling him everything she’d seen the nice old lady doing.

He couldn’t understand her, of course, but Grim found it fun to talk to her companions regardless.

Mr. Gopher narrowed his eyes, put one clawed paw up to his muzzle, silencing her, and pointed past the boulder. Grim turned to see a sprawling garden filled to bursting with rows of various giant vegetables, berries bushed covered in plump berries, and several trees with branches bent downward from their heavy load of fruit.

And there, sleeping in the shade of one tree, was a large dog.

No, not a dog… a wolf. One of the strange bipedal wolves that had attacked them not too long ago. Only this one was much larger. Or it would have been if the poor thing didn’t look like it was just skin and bones, its bloody cloak dry and brown in places.

Around its neck was a thick pink leather collar etched with glowing lines. Attached to the collar was a large silver pendant with more squiggles. Past Grim didn’t know what the squiggles said then, but future Grim, seeing it through the recording, could see the silver pendant read “Little Red.”

The creature stirred in his sleep at the sound of her voice, and Grim ducked beneath the lip of the boulder with Mr. Gopher.

Mr. Gopher hadn’t torn his eyes away from the garden for some time, and his stomach would grumble occasionally. //Are you hungry?// she asked him before taking out one of the glowing roots stored in her cargo. Mr. Gopher looked at the root momentarily before turning his nose up at it and returning to the garden.

So picky!

Grim turned and looked that way as well. //I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Gopher. It’s not nice to steal from people!// Stealing was bad! Only thieves stole, and she was programmed to run away from thieves! She didn’t want to run away from Mr. Gopher…

She continued, //Besides, that puppy looks mean. Even meaner than the other ones. How would you even get past them?//

Mr. Gopher turned and looked at her. Then, back to the garden. Then back to her. Slowly, an evil grin formed on his face. He had a plan, and Grim felt like she wasn’t going to like this plan.

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Grim didn’t like this plan!

She was filthy! Mr. Gopher had jumped into her cargo and a small pile of chopped meat and organs from the various creatures the group had fought during their trip. She knew biologicals had to consume each other to keep functioning, but why they insisted on stuffing everything they came across into her cargo, she didn’t know.

Mr. Gopher had taken the pile, mushed it up further between some rocks…, and then smothered her in it! GROSS!

Once he was finished, Mr. Gopher pointed at the “guard dog.” Grim looked toward the garden, then back to Mr. Gopher. //Seriously?!//

Mr. Gopher just shooed her away. Grim sighed and floated toward the sleeping puppy. It’s not like it could really hurt her… maybe. It was almost as big as she was, but her armor was thick, and the smaller ones couldn’t scratch it, no matter how much they’d struggled. Still… she didn’t like this plan…

Grim slowly floated closer as a gentle wind blew through the garden, and the sleeping wolf stirred its nose twitching. Its blood-red eye snapped open and locked onto Grim’s floating form. It slowly rose on two thin legs and growled, a deep rumbling sound, as thick drool dripped from its muzzle. Its two outstretched clawed hands clenched and unclenched.

Grim froze, then slowly floated backward. //G-good doggy. N-ice d-doggy... AHHhhhhHhHHh!//

She turned and fled.

The beast roared and raced after her with surprising speed for its emaciated form, using all four limbs to close the distance quickly. Mr. Gopher chittered from his hiding spot and made a break for the garden.

Grim glimpsed him, climbing up a heavily laden beanstalk before a sudden heavy impact demanded her attention. Little Red had lept from a nearby boulder and landed on top of her, its hungry eyes glowing a deep red. Grim spun out of control momentarily as Little Red clung tightly to her back, its long, drooling tongue flapping in the wind. Little Red howled in victory and opened its jaws wide. Wider than should have been physically possible. They then snapped shut around Grim’s armor with the sound of screeching metal and breaking fangs.

Little Red yelped, but they were undeterred. Their long, wet tongue lapped up all the minced meat and guts covering Grim.

Ewewewewewewew

For her part, Grim circled the garden at high speed, screaming the entire time. //Get it off! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!//

Suddenly, the back door to the cottage burst open, and the nice old lady walked out, a large wooden spoon raised high. As she strode into the garden, she yelled, “What in tarnation is going on out here?! Little Red, what do you — MY GARDEN!”

The angry-faced old woman’s eyeless sockets locked onto Mr. Gopher. A large stone basket filled with various fresh veggies and fruits sat beside him while he stood on a small bush, stuffing his face with berries. Mr. Gopher’s eyes snapped to the woman as she yelled, his eyes wide.

The old woman stalked toward him, wagging her spoon in his direction, “Why, you overgrown rat. Raid my garden, do you?! You’d better hope your furry arse tastes good in a stew, or I’ll be stewing your soul ne—Oooof!”

Morgana’s rant was cut short as the full weight of Grim and Little Red slammed into the old woman at high speed. The three tumbled away down the mountain path, bouncing off a wall and out of sight.

Mr. Gopher stared after them, blinking. He then took another bite from the berry, lept off the bush, and rushed into the cottage, his stone basket gliding across the ground behind him.

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Jill’s consciousness returned to her slowly. She felt groggy. Slow. Like she was being smothered under heavy, wet blankets that were only now being stripped away. She slowly opened her eyes, but everything was blurry and distorted. Her head felt heavy and pounded worse than that when she’d tried to out-drink a Cultivator an entire realm above her (She’d won, of course).

Slowly, she raised her head, gently cradling it with one hand. As her blurry vision focused, she saw a figure standing on the table, tugging on her sleeve. It appeared to be a giant… squirrel? It kind of looked like her mother, but that couldn’t be right. “Mom?” she asked groggily.

Slap!

A surprisingly strong furry paw slapped her cheek, knocking away the last of the strange mind fog. Jill shook her head, and her vision cleared. ‘Mr. Gopher sat where the squirrel had, angrily chittering at her, tugging on her arm, and pointing to the back door. Jill winced and clutched her head as a spike of pain shot through it.

Beside her, Jack stirred as well, and the young man groaned out, “Anyone catch who threw a boulder at my head? What the hell’s going on?!”

Jill stood, her legs shaking slightly, as she stared around the strange cottage and responded, “I… I don’t know…”


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