For the hundredth time, a violent screeching of rusted metal resounds throughout the crew-quarters area. José tears a door open with brute strength and gasps for breath as another cloud of dust explodes in his face. After stumbling backward, the Admiral disengages his Dermal Armor and coughs violently.

"Kaff! Kaff! By the Divine Emperor... I've finally finished opening all these damned doors."

He flicks his eyes toward the twenty or so Kessu, all of whom hold small suction-cup like devices in their paws. They nod when they meet his gaze and quickly trot over to the opened room, their foot-pads lightly pitter-pattering against the ground. The devices held in their paws, intended for cleaning, begin releasing sonic waves that destroy all the accumulated dust and rust inside the room.

Admiral José glances backward at one of the rooms he recently opened, nodding to himself as he scrutinizes its spotless interior.

"Not bad. Alright, you Kessu should keep cleaning. Umi will lead you to the troublesome areas. We barely have any working Filth Expunger Units, so I'll be counting on you to eliminate all of this filth."

Patriarch Nyoor walks over to José and bows solemnly. "Don't you worry, Great Precursor! We might not be familiar with all this fancy metal-magic, but I'm confident we can clean like crazy! Hehe. We won't be a burden, and we'll earn our keep!"

"Yes, I'm sure you will," José says with a faint smile. He looks to the side at Megla and Soren, both of whom stand idly and watch as the Kessu run around blasting away the ship's grime.

"These cleaning devices are quite unique," Soren muses. "I've not seen anything like them before. Even in the Core, the Mallali don't possess anything offering similar utility."

Megla rolls her eyes. "Big deal. You don't have to be impressed by every little piece of Terran technology."

"Weren't you squealing with glee earlier when the Admiral showed you the Officer's weapon locker?"

The red-scaled Kraktol scowls. "Oh, shut up. That was different. Weapons are important!"

"Yes," Soren says, nodding her head affirmatively. "But so are this ship's other efficiencies. Cleaning with those 'Filth-Erasers' requires far less time and effort, opening up manpower for more important operations. Plus, don't you think they're oddly satisfying to watch?"

Megla scoffs. "Oddly satisfying. Pah! You are still a hatchling at heart, easily amused by trinkets and toys."

The two Kraktol women bicker with one another, but their words contain little or no animosity. Rather, it appears more to José as if they've been friends for so long that a little ribbing wouldn't affect their relationship in the slightest.

With a sigh in his heart, José walks toward them. "Now that I've opened up our future quarters, I want you two to come with me. The Kessu won't be any use to me as starship mechanics, and we've a lot of repairs to make."

Megla and Soren both turn to meet José.

"That's fine," Megla says, "but where should we start? A ship of this size must possess highly advanced engines with cleaning and maintenance needs far beyond what the three of us can provide. It will take us years to repair the Bloodbearer to full working order."

"We don't need 100% operational capacity," José says with a shrug. "We only need to get this ship to a point where we can engage the triple-induction drive. After that, we'll have plenty of time to repair the lower-priority systems, the weapons, and a few of the Bloodbearer's support craft."

Soren crosses her arms. "Admiral. Forgive me, but I asked you before about this 'triple induction drive,' yet you did not explain. Can you do so now?"

José hesitates.

"...Hm. I suppose so. Come with me. It will be easier to show than to tell."

With a motion of his hands, José gestures toward the Kraktol women and they fall into position with Megla on his right and Soren on his left.

They leave the crew quarters behind and head toward the engines at the rear of the ship, a several-mile walk.

Along the way, José points out various support facilities, including the bathrooms, the crew quarters for people of different statuses, and so on. When José arrives at the middle of the Bloodbearer, he pauses before a large, sliding-glass door with the words 'Medical Bay 003' etched into them.

As if on cue, Umi's voice speaks from overhead. "Admiral. Your body is still far from its peak condition. I advise visiting the Medical Bay for a checkup."

José sighs. "...Fine. I knew you'd say that. This is a good chance for these ladies, too. Let's ensure nobody here is carrying any diseases."

Megla frowns. "Diseases?! The only ones you should worry about are from those flea-riddled little-"

"Calm yourself," José says with a sigh, as he holds up his palm. "You're going to be crewmates with the Kessu for a very long time. Please try to get along with them."

As José walks toward the medical bay and its door slides open, Megla narrows her eyes. "You took me here by force. Maybe I'll try to break away and backstab you when the right time comes. I think that, perhaps, I won't be here for long at all, Terran."

José shrugs, eerily confident in his assessment. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

...

Inside the medical bay's two-thousand square-foot workspace, dozens of monitors, now cracked and broken from eons of disrepair, hang lifelessly from the walls. Countless rows of dusty medical cabinets sit off to the side, their contents long-since rotted away. Medical beds line the walls every few feet, taking up the majority of the space inside the small facility.

The Admiral lumbers toward the rear of the medical bay, where he gestures at a four-foot in diameter circular metal platform on the floor. Its plain appearance gives no indication as to its function.

"Soren. You first. Step on the Evaluator for me, please."

The red-scaled Kraktol shoots a questioning glance at José. "Admiral?"

"We Terrans used devices like these regularly to analyze our bodies. Tuck your tail in and lower your snout so nothing sticks outside of the Evaluator's radius."

Megla's glance turns suspicious. "This device... is it dangerous?"

"No."

José's voice gives no indication to his emotions as he wears a neutral expression on his face.

With a silent nod, Soren steps onto the metal platform, wraps her tail around her waist, and lowers her long, crocodile-snout so it doesn't stick out of the Evaluator's radius.

The Admiral walks over to a display nearby and taps it. Nothing happens, indicating that much like all the others in the room, it broke down at some point in the past.

"Umi," José says, "I'll have to rely on you here. Is this Evaluator still capable of running full-body physicals?"

The Synthmind replies immediately. "Affirmative, Admiral Rodriguez. I will engage its sensors and relay their results verbally."

"Good."

José takes a step back and stares at Soren with the same vague, expressionless gaze as always. After a few seconds of seemingly nothing happening, Umi beeps overhead.

"Analysis complete. Physical condition: 97%. Minor damage to cerebral cortex detected. Hypothesis: Blunt force damage caused by physical combat."

Soren raises her head and nods. "All Kraktol must learn the Thülvik's combat methods before we can serve aboard one of her warships. Everyone suffers a little brain damage."

Admiral Rodriguez cracks a faint smile. "Don't worry. We can fix all sorts of cellular and nervous system injuries, presuming the tools haven't fallen into disrepair."

Overhead, Umi continues. "Primary sensory report. Visual rating: 0.75. Olfactory rating: 0.8. Auditory rating: 1.1. Gustation rating: 0.3. Somatosensory rating: 1.7. Vestibular rating: 2.4. Proprioceptive rating: 1.0."

The Admiral gestures to Soren, asking her to step off the platform. When she does, she looks at him with curious eyes. "Admiral, what do all those numbers mean?"

"Each one is a generic measurement of your physical abilities in relation to a Terran's from my era," José replies. "An average Terran would score a 1.0 in every metric. Numbers above 1.0 are positive, while numbers below are negative. If your vision is rated at 2.0, you should be able to see the world with twice the clarity of an average Terran, just as an example."

José continues. "Your vestibular rating is 2.4, which is quite excellent, especially given your lack of bioimplants. Presumably, you must have an excellent sense of balance."

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Soren shrugs. "I am not a particularly athletic Kraktol. Some might even call me lazy."

"Hah!" Megla laughs. "You, lazy? You're one of the hardest workers I know. Don't downplay your capabilities."

With a smile, José says, "She's right. I'm sure your tail helps aid you with the vestibular metric. We Terrans never had any such body part, though some extremists did attach bionic ones for religious reasons. Tails are excellent for climbing, swimming, and many other physical activities."

After José pats Soren's shoulder, he raises his eyes to the ceiling. "Umi, what are Soren's physical parameters?"

The synthmind beeps in response. "Strength: 7.5. Grip: 5.4. Agility: 2.3. Memory: 12.3. Comprehension: 9.4. Endurance: 7.3. Stamina: 4.3."

This time, Megla is the one to lick the sides of her snout in surprise. "Wow, not bad! You got a 12.3 in Memory! I always knew you were smart. You're twelve times smarter than a Terran, hehehe!"

José rests his hand on Megla's shoulder. "Memory and comprehension aren't the same thing as wisdom, Megla. There are many different types of intelligence. Now, you go next."

The Dragon's Breath's former First Officer all but leaps for joy. The thought of finding out exactly how strong she is makes her zip over to the Evaluator without delay.

"Ooh, this is exciting! I wonder how high I'll score!"

After a reminder from José, Megla tucks in her snout and tail, shivering with anticipation as she awaits the results.

"Analysis complete. Physical condition: 85%. Multiple lingering injuries detected in the chest and limbs. Rehealed broken bones located. Hypothesis: Severe injuries from many years prior that have mostly healed since they were sustained."

Megla rolls her eyes. "Pah! Old news. I lost in a duel against Commander Orgon. After I nearly beat him, he chose me as his First Officer. A few broken bones were worth the promotion."

Umi continues. "Primary sensory report. Visual rating: 0.9. Olfactory rating: 0.95. Auditory rating: 1.1. Gustation rating: 0.25. Somatosensory rating: 3.7. Vestibular rating: 1.1. Proprioceptive rating: 1.4."

"Bit of a mixed bag," José remarks. "It seems you're extremely adept when it comes to your sense of touch. You and Soren both come up lacking when it comes to your eyes and ears, but I suppose that's to be expected."

With another beep, Umi finishes her report. "Strength: 9.9. Grip: 7.5. Agility: 14.0. Memory: 2.4. Comprehension: 3.9. Endurance: 8.3. Stamina: 8.5."

Megla steps off the Evaluator with a big croco-grin on her face. "Hehehe! I'm quite tough, eh? My strength is greater than ten of your Terran units! Not bad!"

José nods. "Your agility is even more astounding. What is your fastest recorded running speed?"

Megla shrugs. "Perhaps 95 kilometers per hour? It's been several years since I tested."

"Fast, indeed..." José mutters.

After a few moments of contemplation, José walks to the Evaluator and steps on top of it. He falls silent and allows Umi to complete her full-body scan. While he does, Megla nudges Soren's ribs with a look of eagerness. "What do you think the Terran's numbers will be?"

Soren's expression becomes one of disinterest. "High. Very, very high."

After Umi beeps, she begins speaking. "Analysis complete. Physical condition: 45%. Severe trauma located all across the Admiral's body. Multiple organ failures observed. Bodily functions running at sub-optimal levels. Speed reduced by 75%. Physical strength reduced by 90%. Severe blood clots detected. Immediate surgery recommended."

The room falls silent as both Kraktol look at José in shock.

The Admiral is heavily injured? Soren thinks. He defeated Commander Orgon with ease, yet he hasn't said anything about his pain. Even when he had his heart ripped out, the Admiral barely blinked!

Megla, too, stares at José with surprise. A ninety percent reduction in strength? Isn't that somewhat absurd? How could the Terran defeat Commander Orgon with such ease when his body is supposedly this weak?

Umi continues. "Primary sensory report. Visual rating: 21.9. Olfactory rating: 19.1. Auditory rating: 40.1. Gustation rating: 12.8. Somatosensory rating: 41.5. Vestibular rating: 31.3. Proprioceptive rating: 24.4. Warning: These numbers are well below expected parameters due to bodily injuries. According to ship regulations, Admiral Rodriguez must immediately submit to a Level 4 Surgery."

José waves his hands flippantly. "I know. Continue."

The look of boredom on the Admiral's face contrasts with the look of terror on Megla's. What are these absurd numbers?! How could he possess such ridiculous eyesight? Can the Admiral see through walls or something?! And they only represent his current condition, not his peak abilities! How unbelievable! This Terran is a freaking monster!

Another beep signifies Umi's final analysis. "Strength: 34.4. Grip: 70.4. Agility: 8.4. Memory: 185.5. Comprehension: 212.7. Endurance: 26.0. Stamina: 12.7."

Following the synthmind's analysis, the room falls silent. Megla stares at José as if she's encountered a demon. The look in her eyes hovers between terror and blind admiration.

So... so strong! What a powerhouse! Now this is how a male should be!

José steps off the Evaluator and smiles politely at Megla. "You don't need to feel envy. My strength comes from hundreds of years of implants and surgeries, putting me near the top of the old Terran society. Given time, I can bring you and Soren both to my level, but only provided I learn how to adapt our Terran implants to your biology. Better yet, your starting point is, for the most part, well above the average Terran's. You could become both stronger and smarter than me, in due time."

Megla clasps her claws together in excitement. "Really?! That's incredible! You're incredible, mister Terran! I knew you were strong, but this is far beyond anything I imagined! I bet Orgon's scans wouldn't even touch your knees!"

As Megla babbles excitedly, Soren shoots her sister a knowing look.

Finally, you understand why I brought you here. You simpleminded scale-brain.

Soren doesn't give voice to her thoughts. She stays quiet while Megla follows José around like an excited puppy, stars dancing in her eyes. "If I become as powerful as you, I could become the biggest, strongest Kraktol in the galaxy! I wouldn't have to bow or scrape at anyone's knees ever again! I could make myself the new Thülvik, take control of our armies, and reduce those filthy Mallali to-"

"Stop."

Admiral Rodriguez lifts his finger, silencing Megla mid-speech. She starts to open her mouth, only to close it once she sees an odd look in his eyes.

"My crew will not be a bunch of violent, pillaging bandits," José growls. "We are protectors. We are saviors. Our foremost goal must always be to eliminate conflict with the least amount of bloodshed necessary, not escalate by using superior force. Do you understand?"

His intimidating aura makes Megla take a step back.

"I... I don't!" Megla says, her excitement from before disappearing in an instant. Annoyance and anger appear in her eyes. "What's the use of great strength if not to use it for yourself?! You defeated Orgon, you damned hypocrite! You even killed him!"

"I did so out of necessity," the Admiral replies. "Orgon was directly responsible for the deaths of thousands of Kessu. I did not kill him to enrich myself, nor to satisfy some personal goal. Instead, I upheld justice for the dead with the smallest number of casualties and the maximum amount of persuasive force. One life traded for the safety and respect of a hundred thousand others. Had I slaughtered the rest of your former crew and then gone on to take their ships for myself, you might have a point, but I didn't, so you don't."

"That was only because our ships weren't worth anything to you," Megla argues. "It's clear from this mighty powerhouse of a vessel that you care a lot about technology! If our ships had met your needs, you'd have stripped them for scrap and taken whatever could have boosted your power. Don't pretend otherwise!"

José evenly meets Megla's gaze.

"If that's what you think, then go. Get on that interceptor we rode here and leave. But if you're honest with yourself, you'll stop blaming me for Orgon's failures. It's his fault you're here."

Megla doesn't reply. She merely stares into José's eyes for a minute before lowering her head and walking away.

The Medbay's doors slide open and shut. After Megla leaves, José glances at Soren. "Thoughts?"

Soren sighs. "Megla is headstrong. Give her time to adjust. She may protest and try to buck your authority, but I believe she'll forget about Orgon in due time. If you hadn't killed him, she'd never have agreed to come along with me."

"She's loyal," José says, smiling. "That's an admirable trait. I won't resent her for standing up for her friends. In due time, I hope to bring her around to my way of thinking."

The Admiral clears his throat. "Now, let's put all of this behind us for a while. I need to activate Umi's medical subroutines. Mind giving me a hand?"

"Of course. You are my Admiral, after all," Soren says, gifting José with a rare smile. "Just tell me what to do. I am not familiar with your ship's technology."

"You have a pretty good memory and comprehension ability," José remarks, turning around to poke through a nearby tool cabinet. "I think you'll quickly learn how things work around here."

The Admiral rifles through the cabinet and pulls out a half-dozen odd-looking pen-shaped tools and implements. "To start, we need to quickly repair the Medbay's holographic transmitters. Neither you nor Megla have the knowledge and experience necessary to perform a Level 4 surgery. Truth be told, neither would most of the medical crew on a typical Terran warship, but luckily, the Bloodbearer had a complement of high-quality doctors and nurses available in case we ever entered battle and sustained severe injuries."

José heaves a sigh. "If we're lucky... maybe their residual brain scans will give Umi enough knowledge to perform this surgery. Umi?"

"Admiral. I have run several scans of my database since disengaging from standby mode. When in standby mode, each time my data is about to degrade, my subsystems will automatically reorganize information based upon the corrupted memory sectors. Presently, my databanks have lost 100% of all low-priority data, 64.3% of medium-priority data, and 12% of high-priority data."

"Alright," José nods. "So, does that mean you still have the crew member's brain scans?"

"Negative, Admiral. My databanks retained only a small fraction of all their brain scans. I still have Doctor Bashir and Doctor Culber's scans on file, but some of their knowledge has suffered data fragmentation. Would you like for me to defragment and combine their knowledge into a usable subsystem?"

"Yes," José says. "Also, set their memory backups to high-priority preservation status. They might be the only high-level data remnants left for Terran biology in all of the seven galaxies. If you lose their knowledge, repairing major damage to my body could become impossible."

"Affirmative, Admiral," Umi beeps. "I will set their collated data to high-level preservation status. Time required for data defragmentation and combination: Three hours, seven minutes and fourteen seconds."

After confirming Umi's task, José hands a couple of the odd devices in his hands to Soren. "These are standard repair tools located all throughout the ship. This first one is called a Hyperspanner. It can transform into a multitude of other tools and is best used on older systems. A famous Terran engineer created these to replace a horde of other legacy devices we used for the eras before, so it has a lot of utility..."

José continues speaking for several minutes. He indicates many different buttons and features on the various devices, pointing out soldering lasers, gravitic suspension relays, and magnetic inverters. The more he talks, the more Soren nods.

"I've used many of these tools before, but never in one device. How remarkable. They function identically to the ones aboard many tenth and twentieth era vessels."

The Admiral chuckles. "Yes, haha. Why fix what isn't broken? Some people think technology advancement is all about creating whole new branches of science, but oftentimes it's about combination, miniaturization, and a slow, steady stream of incremental efficiency upgrades. For example, the soldering laser on a fiftieth era hyperspanner is around 90% more efficient with its usage of battery life compared to a thirtieth era standalone soldering device. Not only does a hyperspanner possess much more functionality, but it's also smaller, lighter, and requires less technical capacity to use."

Soren gazes at the half-foot-long, flashlight-shaped device in her claws. "Incredible. I... I had never thought of technology in such a manner. I always viewed every device in isolation, as static and unchanging. To think there was a whole branch of science dedicated entirely to improving existing tools! Admiral, I am... I am very glad I chose to follow you. I believe I will experience many more eye-opening realizations under your tutelage."

After a moment of silence, José gently squeezes Soren's shoulder. "I think you will, too. Now, let's get to work. I want all of the Medbay's critical systems back online before Umi finishes defragmenting both doctor's brain scans."

Soren nods. "Yes, Admiral! I will do my best!"