Eric slept like the dead.

He woke up disorientated, unsure of where he was, looking around wildly at the room. The familiar hum of an active voidship sounded loud in the silence. Eric relaxed, yawning widely as he recalled where he was. A quick check at his internal chrono told him it was mid-morning.

Pulling out a long dark green lounging robe from his ring, Eric opened his cabin door and followed his nose to find breakfast.

The living quarters of the Plunderer were arranged near the middle of the voidship’s second layer. Forward from the cluster of crew cabins was the well-equipped galley, and a large attached mess hall where Eric found Cid and Osar.

“Come in Eric!” Cid called to Eric through the open doorway. “Or should I call you Boss… or maybe Commander?”

Still feeling mentally drained after yesterday’s exertions, Eric just shook his head and took a chair at the long table where Cid was sitting. The big scientist was comfortably ensconced before several plates, the remains of what looked to have been a substantial breakfast disappearing into his busily working mouth. Before Eric could ask where his own portion was, Osar was at his side, laying down a hot plate of scrambled eggs, minced meat, and chopped portions of what looked to be some sort of poultry, along with a steaming mug whose aroma hit Eric’s nose and immediately invigorated his senses.

“Is that coffee?”

“Oh yes, Commander,” Cid answered for the Urgan, who had turned back to the counter to prepare another plate. “But wait ‘til you actually taste it!”

Intrigued by his companion’s comment, Eric picked up the mug and inhaled the steam.

The coffee’s aroma strong and vibrant, immediately chasing away the lingering sleep fog from Eric’s head. Enticed by the sensory jolt, Eric put the lip of the mug to his lips and tasted the brew. The hot liquid was rich and robust, bitter but with an underlying sweetness that lingered on the tongue. As he sipped, a slow, satisfied smile crossed Eric’s face.

??? Coffee

Cuisine: ???

Recipe: Unknown

Main Ingredient (1): ??? (Coffee variant)

Other Ingredients (1): Water

Osar came back with his own plate and mug, clearly pleased that Eric was enjoying his efforts.

“I’m glad you have coffee here,” Eric said by way of greeting, lifting his mug to salute the Urgan.

“I’m glad you like it Jad-Os,” Osar’s plate was much the same as Cid’s, though he had poured more of that thick red paste they had had with their dinner. “Most Citizens pretend to look down on coffee as a beverage for the Lesser Races, making it unpopular the closer you get towards Imperial Center.”

“Their loss.” Eric murmured, savoring the taste of the coffee as he looked over his plate with interest. The three men continued to converse with each other about various small matters as they ate. Eric was initially interested in the types of food and drink in the Empire, asking Osar about this and that ingredient as he tasted new flavors. That conversation led them down into processing methods and technologies, which Cid was particularly keen to understand. They were just getting into a discussion regarding the methods of preserving various meats when Serra finally arrived from her cabin to join them at the table.

“I did some research on you y’know,” Cid said around a mouthful of spiced meat and bread, before pointing at Eric with the remainder of the bread in his hand. “Back when you first arrived on station… Everyone with any interest in military history was all excited about it.”

Eric grunted, shooting the scientist a warning look, even as he continued eating his food, trying to categorize each flavor and ingredient for future reference. Osar and Serra leaned forward, encouraging the scientist to continue, both appearing to be very interested in what Cid had to say.

“Wasn’t easy getting the dirt on you of course,” Cid continued, looking at Eric with his head tilted a little to the side. “Severely limited access, triple encryption, and locked behind a fuckton of super-important seals… but Michael up at crypto-studies owed me a favor so I…”

“Get on with it.” Serra growled, waving an avian thigh in Cid’s direction. Eric gave her an exasperated glare but the woman just rolled his eyes at him.

“Ok, ok.” Cid said with a shake of his head. “Colonel Rama, which was his rank back then, was the commanding officer of the Reaper Battalion tasked with the pacification of the rebellious elements on the planet designated Batu V…”

“Batu V! You mean the Blood Ice Incident?!” Serra exclaimed, startling everyone at the table. She reached out and took hold of Eric’s right upper arm. “Don’t tell me you were the Ghost Reaper?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Stupid name.” Eric grumbled as he shook himself free of Serra’s excited grip.

“Strong Name.” Osar said, looking at Eric with newfound respect.

“Cool Name.” Cid said with a grin so wide and delighted that it made Eric want to slap it off his face. “Anyway, most of the Union troops were killed off within an hour of planetfall, and the rest were hunted down by the insurrectionists…” The scientists voice dropped for dramatic effect. “Colonel Rama however, not only survived, but by the time the regular army arrived had made quite a name for himself among the enemy.”

Ghost Reaper, the Death in the Darkness.

Eric remembered the cold and the hunger during those early days, the horror of losing all of the men and women under his command and the white-hot flame that demanded retribution for their deaths. For months he had stalked the Batu Highlands like the ghost they named him, ambushing lone patrols and raiding isolated outposts. He had bombed power plants and fuel depots, murdered sleeping people in their beds, poisoned wells that affected entire towns. He had been lost and grieving, and more than a little crazy, so much so that when Batu V was once again in Union hands it took a full team of Sanctioned espers to track him down and capture him.

It took nearly a boatload of drugs, a revolving door of empath-moderators, and a year in intensive psychiatric care before he was brought back from the brink.

All the while he was recovering the Union Military press corps lauded him in the networks and planetary info-sheets, raising him up as shining example of military duty, extolled the virtue of his uncompromising will to continue the mission, despite all odds.

And then they cashiered him.

Unfit for large-scale command was what they told him, but kept that detail out of his records, before encouraging him to retire in dignity and receive his pension. He had tried to fight it, burning through favors and the good graces of what few friends he had among the higher officers but it was to no avail. He was an embarrassment to the military, a symbol of their failure, and they were dead set on making sure he was gone from their ranks.

Eventually Eric had done what they wanted.

Afterwards, Eric had been aimless, wandering the various Union worlds and trying to avoid the reporters and journalists who hounded him for his version of events on Batu V. Thankfully, the furor around him died down quickly, and in a few months, Eric was able to travel anonymously, doing nothing of consequence as he tried to adjust to civilian life.

The Halden-Xiao recruiter found Eric in a small agrarian combine on the agricultural planet of Salamon III, working as a hired guard. He had never learned how the woman had tracked him down but a day later he was off-planet and heading for the H-X Corps training facility at Eduron.

By talking about Eric’s past, Cid had allowed Eric to concretize some of the thoughts he had been having ever since they had killed the shardling yesterday. Now, the scientist’s revelations made what Eric had decided to do easier to actually put into action.

“Everyone, I have something to say.”

Three heads turned towards him, and Eric cleared his throat, buying himself some time to go through what he was going to say. He just hadn’t thought he would have such difficulty converting his thoughts into words.

“We,” He began, indicating Serra and Cid. “Find ourselves in a new universe, with different challenges, and apparently even physical laws.” Cid nodded thoughtfully, while Serra remained focused on Eric, her eyes intent.

“Arguably, I do not think it would be a stretch to say we are new people.” Eric continued, looking at each of his companions directly as he spoke each word. “Serra, I don’t have any authority over you anymore. And Cid, I never had any over you to begin with.”

“What’s this about?” Cid asked, a perplexed look on his face. Osar looked up from his food, before placing his utensils carefully down on his plate.

“You have a malfunction, Captain?” Serra said more forcefully, her face flushing with emotion, her intent expression hardening into what looked like anger.

“I’m just saying guys, whatever authority I had back in the Old Universe, none of that holds any weight in the here and now.”

“So, you’re saying we’re a democracy now, sir?” Serra spat through gritted teeth. “Should we all take a vote before anyone shits? Or maybe ask everyone’s opinion before choosing what clothes to wear?”

“That’s not how democracy works…” Cid began but he trailed off when Serra shot him a furious glare.

Eric raised his hands to placate his companion, his expression serious.

“All I’m saying Jakobin… no Serra,” He corrected with a wry smile. “Serra, all I’m saying is that we’re all equals here, and I don’t think I should be the one giving all of you orders just based on what I was back where we came from.”

“Bullshit!” Serra said loudly, standing up from her seat. There was a wildness around her eyes that in someone else, Eric would have called panic. Except Serra did not do panic; she instilled it in her foes. “Do you think we won’t back your plays just because our employers not breathing over our necks? I didn’t follow your orders because H-X said so, Captain!”

“If I may Jad-Os,” Osar rumbled from where he sat, reaching out to touch Serra’s arm and calm her down, before looking at all of them in turn. “A team needs a leader, in this universe the same way it did in yours: All of us here, in our own ways, accept you as our leader, and the leader of this team.”

“Damn right!” Serra answered in a quieter tone, sitting down and aggressively stabbing her fork into a piece of poultry.

Eric lowered his hands and leaned back on his seat, thinking. All he had wanted was to establish exactly where he stood in their little group, make it so that everyone was not obligated to following him out of habit. He wanted to emphasize that everyone here was free to do what they wanted, and that it was not his place to give them orders just because he had done so back where they had come from.

On hindsight, he probably should have predicted how Serra was going to act. Soldiers, especially long-serving soldiers, generally had a tendency, for good or ill, to follow higher authority or at least a hierarchy of authority figures. It was the order of the world they lived in, and being cut off from that could be disorienting, and even frightening to some.

It was one of the reasons why some former soldiers sometimes appeared out of place in the civilian world.

“Primus inter pares.” Cid whispered from where he sat, a grin blooming across his face.

“What was that?”

“It’s an old Terran phrase: It means ‘First among equals’” Cid said animatedly, his excitement making his round face almost glow. “It is used to denote someone who is officially equal to other members of their group but is seen as the leader or representative of said group.”

“First among equals, eh?” Eric said, his brow knitting in thought. That sounded like a good compromise to their leadership problem. “I think I like that.”

“Then that is what you will be, Primus Eric Rama!” Osar exclaimed, standing and raising his mug in salute.

“To our Primus!” Cid seconded the big Urgan, likewise getting to his feet and raising his own mug.

“Told you we got your back!” Serra whispered fiercely to Eric as she did the same.

Nodding, his heart feeling too full for him to risk speech, Eric too raised his own mug.

“Hail Primus!”