Inside a dense jungle on a planet full of vicious predators, a trio of bipeds fights furiously, one of them firing energy and ballistic projectiles to fend off their attackers.
Blat! Blat!
"Grundle! The Gosheks are cutting off our path of retreat," Soren yells. "I'm grabbing an elevated position!"
Not far away, a huge Kraktol with a massive battle axe roars defiantly as he beheads a seven-foot-tall, raptor-like monster. "Graaaugh! My vibro-axe is running dry on energy! It's not cutting through their armor as effectively as before!"
Meanwhile, behind them, a lone Terran bobs and weaves, his skin covered in a shiny metal exterior. A 'Goshek' pounces at him, opening its long, pointy mouth full of teeth to bite onto the Admiral's arm. It clamps down, intending to pierce his Dermal Carapace and chomp into soft, juicy flesh. Instead, the human spins on his heel, yanking his arm out of the Goshek's mouth right as it snaps shut.
José Rodriguez continues spinning. He raises his other leg over his head, then swings it downward in a violent axe-chopping motion, crushing the monster's thick skull into fragments.
Thunk!
The creature dies instantly, its body collapsing lifelessly to the forest floor.
"Keep fighting," José says, his tone completely even. He doesn't even breathe heavily, having failed to wind himself. "You're about to break your previous high score!"
Three more Gosheks pounce from the underbrush. They race toward the huge Kraktol, Grundle, who sweeps his axe in a wide arc, forcing the enemies backward.
"Graugh! I'll keep killing, then!"
Hearing that he'll soon break his previous record, Grundle's eyes light up with excitement. He rushes forward and slips around the jaws of death, evading a Goshek capable of chewing his face off. In the split-second the monster's bite misses, Grundle wraps his arm around the Goshek's neck and wrenches it with all his strength.
Crrrack!
Multiple bones shatter under his strength, causing the velociraptor-like creature to fall limp in his grasp. With his other free hand, he chops his axe into a second Goshek's head, but his scales momentarily lose their color as the final member of the trio lunges at him.
Blat! Blat!
Two high-powered energy beams fire down from the treetops above, melting the creature's brains into goop. It falls dead at Grundle's feet, leaving him to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Nice shooting, Soren!" Grundle yells, quickly throwing a thumbs-up in her direction.
"Teamwork, teamwork, teamwork," José repeats thrice, clapping his hands for emphasis. "Four unified fists will always beat sixteen uncoordinated ones!"
Soren drops to the forest's underbrush, staying low to the ground while she checks both of her pistols.
"My ballistic ammo has fallen below ten percent capacity," Soren reports, aiming her words at Grundle. "But my energy pistol still has a bit more than a third of its battery left."
From the skies above, Umi's voice speaks. "All enemies defeated. Stage Nine complete. Now advancing to Stage Ten. New Aero-Xenophile enemy type added."
José's expression doesn't change, but Soren and Grundle's both turn to anguish.
"Crap! So unlucky!" Grundle complains. "We lost to elemental-xenos last time!"
"Not all enemy spawns are the same in the Endurance Exercise," José says, tactfully reminding his First and Second Officers. "You might get lucky and encounter a weaker Xenophile during this session."
However, even as José speaks, he smirks inwardly. Ah, but too bad for you, I'm here.
His brain connects to a holographic matrix, then picks out one of the more than 200,000 simulated enemy designs for his Officers to face.
I'm pretty hungry, José thinks. I can't wait to pay a visit to the chow-hall. Let's just wrap this up quickly. I wouldn't want to make things too easy for little Grun-Grun and Soren.
As part of their required courses, José's combat-oriented personnel often train in various simulations on the Holodeck in the same way he once did in his youth. Having fought in countless real and simulated environments, pretty much nothing ever makes José break a sweat, while every new holographic horror causes his top Officers to at least momentarily panic.
"Admiral, I don't understand why you're even here," Grundle says, as he cautiously eyes his surroundings. "Isn't this supposed to test my teamwork with Soren? If you are here to help... graugh..."
José laughs. He leans against a tree casually while waiting for the Tenth Stage to begin. "You misunderstand, Grundle. I didn't come here to help you. I came because I was bored. The Bloodbearer only has one large-scale holodeck and two smaller ones. I rarely get to exercise, and I can't train with the piddly mooks your juniors fight. I can only break a sweat if I join a training session with you and Soren."
Grundle's scales flush with embarrassment, a comical sight given his massive size and intimidating presence. "Oh. That, uh... makes sense."
"You just worry about yourselves," José says. "Don't count on me for help. I'll only fight if I feel like stretching my legs. In fact, I think I'll head off on my own. You two have fun!"
Without waiting for a reply, José jogs away, leaving Grundle and Soren behind.
"That Admiral..." Soren mutters, shaking her head. "He doesn't seem like it, but José can be a real prankster sometimes."
The forest quickly fades away from the top down, replaced instead with ruined buildings from an ancient era, dilapidated stone and dirt structures that appear ripped straight out of Greek architecture.
"Stage Ten loaded, beginning mission in ten seconds," Umi beeps above, her words ominous.
As Umi starts counting down, both Kraktol immediately start checking their surroundings for cover.
"Over here," Grundle says, pointing to a set of stairs leading underground. "Let's force the enemies to come to us."
Soren shakes her head. "Bad idea. There's only one way in and out. If we go there, we'll be trapped until the enemies overflow and kill us dead. We should find an elevated position, instead."
"We only have to beat our previous scores," Grundle says. "We're within five hundred points! Twenty more enemies and we'll succeed! Come on!"
The giant Kraktol doesn't wait for Soren's permission. With Umi's counter reaching the two-second mark, Soren can only grit her teeth and follow after him.
"Fine! But if we mess up, this one's on you!"
The two of them travel 'underground,' though their descent comes as a result of mentally-manipulative holographic techniques. José seemingly stands a 'half mile' away, judging their decision with laughing eyes.
"Come on, Grundle. What the heck kind of choice is that? You should have listened to Soren. She's much smarter than you. Oh, well. Kids have to learn somehow. None of my business."
The Admiral speaks to himself, his voice not projecting nearly loudly enough for the Kraktol to hear him.
As the match begins, José's gaze flicks to a huge throng of monsters and creatures beaming into the Holodeck's confines. Among them are not only the Gosheks from the previous round, but several other creatures from earlier rounds, all of them assuming combat stances and falling into automated formations to enhance their strengths.
In addition to these returning enemies, a tenth type joins the foray, one which makes José chuckle.
"I guess my cute little crocs haven't yet figured out how aero-types function. Going into an enclosed area will spell their early defeat."
Inside the makeshift bunker, Soren trains her piddly pair of backup pistols on the stairwell while Grundle stands at the bottom, ready to block any creature that dares to enter.
"Don't worry!" Grundle declares. "My plan is foolproof! These stairs create a perfect throttle position! I still have plenty of strength left to hold our enemies back!"
"It's called a 'choke point,'" Soren snaps, correcting him.
"Same thing!" Grundle argues. "You just pick 'em off with headshots! I'll handle the rest!"
Moments later, a storm of monsters rushes toward their location. They pour into the tight passage two and three at a time, tripping over each other to try and get at the juicy biological-beings first.
"Bahaha! Too easy!" Grundle laughs. "Stupid idiots didn't even come in one at a time! They're stuffing the stairs full!"
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Soren remains uneasy, but she still takes her time aiming and firing to maximize her precision. She blows out the brains of an enemy every five seconds, quickly mowing down six of them in half a minute. As she does, Grundle raises his axe overhead and chops downwards, lopping at the necks of any other enemies in range.
Hack! Hack!
Like a bloody butcher from Hell, Grundle laughs wildly while killing another five misshapen monsters.
"I don't even see the new Aero-types yet!" Grundle laughs. "They probably can't make it past all these blubber-brains blocking the entrance! We've already won!"
Even as Grundle proudly declares his victory, imagining the glee of once again shattering his previous position on the leaderboards, Soren suddenly cries out from behind him.
"Shit! They're- aaaah!"
Soren howls in pain, forcing Grundle to turn around in bewilderment. To his complete shock, Soren falls over, unconscious, while three ghostly apparitions swarm around her body.
"W-what the-?! What the heck are THOSE?! Soren! Soren, are you...?!"
The big grey Kraktol's confusion turns to panic as a female shriek, reminiscent of a screeching little girl, erupts beside his ears. Jumping in alarm, Grundle whips his head around just in time to see five ghosts rushing at him from behind, all of them raising their phantasmal limbs to attack.
Slash!
Grundle howls in pain, while his mind goes blank.
"Endurance training complete. Previous record for Officers Grundle and Soren remains unbroken, at 114,650 points. You have failed to surpass it by 125 points. Now ending today's simulation."
By the time Grundle and Soren both awaken, dazed and confused, they find themselves back inside the unadorned Holodeck, lying unceremoniously on the ground as if they had just collapsed from a stroke.
"Huh? Huh? What happened?" Grundle asks. His bafflement turns to rage as he spots the hovering scoreboard in the air. "Nooo! So close! We almost had it! Are you kidding me?!"
Soren wakes up only a moment after him. She quickly pulls herself up, then dusts her legs off while acting as if she never fainted at all.
"I only caught a glimpse of my attackers," Soren replies, "but I recognized them. They appeared to be demonic sub-type entities. Wraiths, as I recall."
After she speaks her observation, Soren turns to look across the barren Holodeck, where she finds her Admiral lounging in a holographic easy chair. He claps slowly.
"Good eyes, Soren. Too bad you didn't piece together your enemy's identities beforehand."
The Bloodbearer's First Officer lowers her head glumly. "I did not realize Umi classified Wraiths as aero-type enemies. If I had, I would have taken the necessary precautions."
Grundle wanders over to one of the Holodeck walls and kicks it out of annoyance. "Graugh! What a bastardly trick! To think those creepy ghosts could pass right through the walls! I never saw 'em coming."
"If it wasn't Wraiths, it could have been another type of enemy that foiled your plans," José says, as he climbs out of his chair and ambles over to his Officers. "What if your enemies had been Burrower demons? They could collapse the roof atop your head. Or what if your enemy had been an aquatic type? They could have blasted the stairwell with water and drowned you to death. You got too cocky at the end and assumed you had victory in the bag. That is why you failed."
Grundle pouts. "The simulation is too hard. How are we supposed to face off against so many enemies for so long? Maybe if we had some time to prepare our defenses... but the simulation resets after each round."
"No whining," José admonishes. "You don't seem to understand an important fact, Grundle. The training you're undertaking is exactly the same type that countless unaugmented Terran students took in Ramma's academies. Not only is your body insanely powerful compared to a mere student's, but you have already topped mine in a few key categories."
José motions with his hand, causing a trio of immaterial graphs to pop into existence.
"Look here. These are Soren's statistics, mine, and yours. Notice anything?"
Grundle narrows his eyes. He glances at the statistics doubtfully, but when he does, his eyes widen in shock.
...
Soren Mudrose, Bloodbearer's First Officer:
Visual Rating: 0.75 (0.75)
Olfactory rating: 0.8 (0.8)
Auditory rating: 1.1 (1.1)
Gustation rating: 0.3 (0.3)
Somatosensory rating: 1.7 (1.7)
Vestibular rating: 2.4 (2.4)
Proprioceptive rating: 1.0 (1.0)
Strength: 9.1 (7.5)
Grip: 6.4 (5.4)
Agility: 5.5 (2.3)
Memory: 25.1 (12.3)
Comprehension: 24.7 (9.4)
Endurance: 9.2 (7.3)
Stamina: 6 (4.3)
...
Next come the Admiral's measurements.
José Rodriguez, Bloodbearer's Admiral:
Visual rating: 10.2 (21.9)
Olfactory rating: 20.3 (19.1)
Auditory rating: 38.7 (40.1)
Gustation rating: 15.1 (12.8)
Somatosensory rating: 41.7 (41.5)
Vestibular rating: 35.7 (31.3)
Proprioceptive rating: 31.6 (24.4)
Strength: 47.7 (34.4)
Grip: 65.3 (70.4)
Agility: 21.3 (8.4)
Memory: 145 (185.5)
Comprehension: 184.1 (212.7)
Endurance: 32.8 (26.0)
Stamina: 24 (12.7)
...
And finally, Grundle's.
Grundle Skycrusher, Bloodbearer's Second Officer:
Visual Rating: 1.1 (0.6)
Olfactory rating: 0.9 (0.5)
Auditory rating: 0.9 (0.4)
Gustation rating: 0.4 (0.4)
Somatosensory rating: 4.5 (2.1)
Vestibular rating: 1.5 (0.9)
Proprioceptive rating: 1.9 (0.5)
Strength: 50.3 (4.3)
Grip: 80.5 (6.0)
Agility: 17 (2.1)
Memory: 5.7 (1.2)
Comprehension: 1.3 (1.5)
Endurance: 45.2 (2.9)
Stamina: 15 (0.9)
...
Grundle and Soren both examine the numbers carefully, surprised beyond belief at the values.
"These numbers are a bit deceptive," José explains, directing his explanation at Grundle. "To start, look at the numbers on the left. Those are your current ratings. The ones inside parentheses are your original values. For Soren, her original ratings came from when she first arrived on the Bloodbearer along with Megla four years ago. Mine are from when I first exited stasis-sleep, when my body still had many biological issues, and yours come from when we performed your first physical just after Drall's arrival."
The Admiral continues. "My numbers are faulty because they were taken from a completely different body. My current body is much younger, but also less physically experienced in warfare and thus lacking muscle memory. Additionally, I lost several premium biomods due to my untimely death, and a few other ones I was used to using had fused into my nervous system, so they were irrecoverable. As such, I've suffered tremendously in the Memory and Comprehension departments, but somewhat made up for it with my newer, younger physical body. I also gained another twenty or thirty thousand years of lifespan... so that's nice."
Soren's expression becomes glum. Despite the Admiral's positive and upbeat tone, she reads more than a little sadness into his words regarding his lost body and psionic abilities, things which he will never recover.
All because I failed to protect him... Soren thinks.
José doesn't pick up on her inner thoughts. Instead, he continues speaking.
"Soren's stats, as you can see, have gone up quite substantially. This is all due to her hard work and constant training. Few other crew members will have seen such a drastic and steady increase over the past few years. To double her memory and nearly triple her comprehension without the use of biomods is beyond admirable," José praises.
The Admiral glances at Grundle. "And then there's you. As the absolute weakest Kraktol crewmember on Drall's ship, your body was worse than Megla and Soren's in almost every way. It is partially because of biomods that you have completely torn past your body's barriers. You even surpass me in sheer strength thanks to your high baseline. Remove my biomods, and my body would be much weaker than Soren's, let alone yours."
The Admiral's words cause Grundle to lower his head. "Graugh. How shameful! I am much stronger than you, yet I cannot pass such a simple Eleventh Stage! Truly, I have allowed all this power to go to my head!"
"You have indeed," José replies, not refuting his Second Officer's words. "In terms of physical ability, you can and should already be tackling S-rank solo missions, Grundle. Soren is far behind you, yet she can still take on B-rank missions now with ease. Considering the vast chasm in your abilities, this goes to show how valuable knowledge can be to a warrior on the battlefield. Soren uses her brain to quickly locate advantageous positions, pick off her enemies, and only tackle fights she can handle."
"You, on the other hand, just rush headlong into situations and try to rely on your big, strong body to handle things. When you fight the other Kraktol, you defeat them handily, but against advanced Terran simulations, you are still little more than a hatchling flailing his claws."
The Admiral waves his hand at Soren. "Soren, go stand over there. I'm going to have a quick match against Grundle."
Soren nods. "Yes, José."
Having grown closer to her Admiral over the past few years, Soren tends to call him by his first name in more private settings, though during official functions and in front of others, she still refers to José by his formal title.
After Soren wanders away, José nods at Grundle.
"I won't use either of my hands. Try to throw me to the floor, alright? I'll win if I throw you down first."
Despite the conditions in Grundle's favor, he quickly becomes uneasy. "Err... yes, Admiral. But... how badly are you about to thrash me? You know I'm not your match."
"It's been a few months since we last fought," José says, folding his hands behind his back. "Who knows? Maybe you'll win this time."
Grundle's eyes darken.
"But I won't."
"Not with that attitude. Now, come on! Stop dawdling and take me down!"
The grey-scaled Kraktol shudders.
"I'll... I'll try!"
He hunkers down for a moment to adjust his breathing, then darts toward the Admiral, wrapping him in a bear hug.
Just as Grundle starts to toss the smaller Terran aside, José repositions his right leg to firm his footing, then sweeps out his left leg and twists his shoulder.
Thump!
The Admiral wriggles out of Grundle's grasp and throws the Kraktol behind him, causing Grundle to heavily impact the floor.
"Again!" José says.
"Graugh..." Grundle moans. He quickly jumps to his feet while rubbing his tail. "Are you sure you didn't use your hands?"
"I didn't!" José yells. "Again!"
Once more, Grundle lunges forward. He lands on his ass a second time, then a third, and a fourth too.
Ten times he tries to tackle the Admiral, but in each instance, the slippery little fellow slithers away and trips Grundle, leaving the Kraktol sprawled on the deck.
"Your hand-to-hand training is more than adequate to earn you a spot among the Kraktol elite," José declares, after his eleventh consecutive throw-down. "But against someone who knows what they're doing, it's simply pitiful! I'm assigning you five S-rank solo missions against Terran-sims. If you can't win five in a row, you'll never beat me in an equal battle."
"But that's the thing..." Grundle complains. "I don't think I ever can. You're just too good, Admiral. You're a way better fighter than me."
"Tsk. Where did your backbone go?" José asks. "Aren't you my hardest-working Officer? You trained with all you had to become the first augmented Kraktol ever, yet now you want to give up?"
"No, no, it isn't like that..." Grundle explains. "It's just... training my muscles and body is one thing, but I... I don't think I'm all that good of a fighter. Graugh! I'm not smart enough to fight well."
"You're wrong," Soren says, finally stepping into the conversation. "The problem you face isn't one of capability, but confidence. You still hold onto your old self-image as a scrawny weakling. Even after all your advancements, you think you won't ever be able to reach the Admiral's heights. You keep looking at him as an impassable mountain, when really you ought to consider him a scalable peak."
Soren pauses for emphasis.
"...You idolize the Admiral too much, Grundle. Stop thinking about how you owe him a life debt. Instead, focus on overcoming him. You can definitely beat José if you work hard. Even the Admiral himself has said so."
José nods. "Soren is right. The Kraktol already stand above humanity in terms of their bodily capabilities. Once you successfully augmented your biology, you became more than capable of beating the crap out of me."
The Admiral laughs wryly. "Besides. I'm not that strong. I was actually one of Ramma's weaker warriors. My buddy Nick beat me two times over."
Several seconds pass while Grundle allows the Admiral's words to percolate in his mind.
"...Graugh. Hmm. Perhaps you are right. I have overthought this matter. Every time we fight, I lose... so I assumed I would never be able to win. Even thought I clearly possess the means, I have limited myself by holding such a narrow world-view."
Grundle turns to look José in the eyes. "I will work hard to beat you one day, Admiral. If I am to become your bodyguard, then surely I must also possess more strength than my boss!"
José claps Grundle's shoulder. "See? Now there's the spirit. I look forward to that day, Grundle."
After gazing at his cute giant crocodile for a moment, José's expression becomes more solemn.
"But seriously. Win five S-rank training sessions in a row, or you'll never stand a chance. Don't let me down!"
Grundle sighs helplessly. "Yes, Admiral."