Stone-faced, Eric casually went down to one knee to relieve Nurixan’s corpse of its spatial rings; the two on the Bolseq’s fingers and the one he discovered on a cunningly crafted adamant chain around the dead adept’s neck. Threading the two other rings onto the chain proved too much for him in his current one-armed state, so Eric was forced to awkwardly hold on to the three devices and the chain in his hand as he stood up.
In the distance, Eric saw the armored form of Serra picking her way carefully through the collapsed debris surrounding the hole she had created on the side of the building across from the Issurath’s still open hatch. Stepping over the low wall that framed the bottom edge of the jagged opening, Serra paused to tear away the wreckage of her Voidwalker frame from her body, tossing the twisted pile of metal to the side. Her actions caused fine grey dust to swirl around her like a cloud, settling in a layer over the white plates of her armor, almost but not quite obscuring the pure pale glow that always seemed to halo her armored form.
“Tough female/woman.” A voice behind him said, and Eric, startled but masterfully succeeding in hiding it, turned to see that the fox-faced Jurub had approached without making a sound, incredible given that the mercenary had had to walk at least five meters across a surface made up almost entirely of loose gravel.
Hellfire.
“I did not notice him approaching either, sir.” Pig said, which did not make Eric feel better at all. “His abilities must all be geared towards stealth or movement. He is however, currently unarmed.”
Feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable Eric ground his teeth together to keep himself from snapping at the sneaky Immuran mercenary who was now dangerously within arm’s length, although he could distinctly feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck and his agitated heartbeat drumming within his chest. As if aware of the effect his actions had caused, the Immuran took a step back, his clawed feet seemingly sliding aside the gravel without giving off a sound.
“I not put on finger that spatial device/ring on chain,” The recently-unemployed mercenary began again, his sibilant voice pitched low, probably in a vain bid to sound non-threatening. “Nurixan finger cut off when he try doing so.”
Eric inclined his head, not understanding for a moment, until the alien pointed with one primary hand at Nurixan’s left hand, which was clearly missing a furry ring finger, while simultaneously pointing at the ring that Eric still held in his hand.
“Hellfire.”
Eric swore softly under his breath, taking a closer look at the ring threaded through the chain. It was made of a heavy greenish metal, worn smooth along its sides while its side showed a snarling head that looked vaguely like a lion’s surrounded by a background of exquisitely carved snake-like figures. Activating Dragon Sight showed the familiar bands of spatial and time aether, but this time spiraling tightly around a central dull black band of curse aether.
“That does not look good, sir.” Pig commented, which Eric ignored as his attention returned to what the Immuran mercenary was doing.
Without saying another word or otherwise acknowledging how he had managed to startle Eric, Jurub had turned towards Nurixan’s corpse and given it a shallow bow. Then the alien straightened, all four of its hands clasped solemnly before its body, speaking half-sung, half-whistled words that sounded hauntingly familiar to Eric, filtered through the System’s own translation.
Ifni in dark castle/fortress waiting
Greets stranger/seeker
Ifni welcomes all
Travel blessings to destination
Sadness and death
Ifni takes in all
After a moment of silence, the mercenary turned to Eric, its black eyes suspiciously bright. “Arrogant he was, cruel, and very impetuous,” Jurub said haltingly as if trying to explain his actions. “But never cheat he try against me.”
Eric nodded understanding, and the Immuran relaxed a little.
Behind the pale xenos Cid and Osar approached, the sound of gravel crunching under their feet loud in the awkward silence that had followed Jurub's statement. His two companions gave him curt nods as they took positions beside him, Cid immediately taking the stump of Eric’s left hand to see if it had acquired any new injuries.
“Osar, could you help me with these please,” Eric said by way of greeting, handing the big Urgan the rings and chain he held. “Thread them all through the chain and place it around my neck.”
The two men finished their tasks quickly before turning towards Jurub, suspicion clearly visible in their faces and their postures.
“What are you going to do now?” Eric asked Jurub, who had been waiting patient and unmoving in front of them all, curious about the man’s future plans.
“No ship have I and stranded on ruined/wreckage rock,” The mercenary shrugged, an interesting exercise for a being with four shoulders. As the sound of his first response died off Jurub tilted his head and looked at Eric with one eye. “You hiring me?”
For the second time in less than five minutes Eric was taken aback.
The offer was tempting, if very unexpected, given how truly short-handed his crew was currently combined with what he had seen of the xenoform’s abilities. But could he truly trust someone who less than an hour ago had been willing to watch his employer kill one of the people on the team he would be joining? He looked to his two comrades for guidance, but merely received a shrug from Osar and a head shake from Cid, who still looked like he was about to lose his lunch.
Scowling, Eric turned back to the waiting mercenary. “Perhaps. Let me think about it. In the meantime, Osar what is usually done with mercenaries in this type of situation?”
“Kill him.” Osar said with a straight face, his words causing Cid to let slip a surprised gasp.
For his part Jurub just shot the Urgan a disgusted look but otherwise appeared unconcerned.
Seeing that he wasn’t getting a rise out of the veteran mercenary, Osar cracked a small smile and gave another shrug. “If you aren’t killing him then the next best thing is to bind him to you through a contract.”
Before Eric could react, Luna materialized in a swirl of pixels at almost the same moment that Serra came close enough to join their little huddle. However, it was Jurub’s reaction to the Vessel Interface’s sudden appearance that took everyone present by surprise: The mercenary dropped to his knees, spraying gravel everywhere in his haste, pressing his forehead to the floor as he spread both sets of arms to the side.
“Servant of the Masters/Teachers, how may this unworthy one serve?”
Luna glanced at the prostrate mercenary, the expression on her alien features unfathomable. [I am called Luna citizen, and I am but the Vessel Interface for the Ark Voidship, the Obsidian Moon, under the authority of Commander Eric Rama.]
Shock rippled visibly through the prostate alien’s body, turning it almost entirely transparent, giving everyone a nauseating view of all his internal organs, even while he half-lifted his head to shoot a sidelong glance at Eric. The fox-featured mercenary licked its black lips, its eyes wide as he studied Eric’s face as if seeing it for the first time. “You command an Ark-Ship, Lord Rama?”
“I hold its key, yes… and we are in the process of bringing it back to being fully operational.”
“Honor to me to be hired by you, Lord.” The alien said softly, pressing his forehead once more into the gravel. “A price must still be paid, but low it will/must be.”
“I said I would think about it.”
“As you wish, Lord.”
“Making friends, Captain?” Serra asked, her crowned helm breaking apart and receding into her battlesuit’s neck cowling. Dried blood streaked the side of her mouth, and the scars on her cheeks were prominent against her flushed skin. “Why does every alien we meet and not kill out of hand eventually come to call you Lord, eh? Is it some secret ability you have, sir?”
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Jurub looked up in shock at Serra’s casual tone, horror and outrage showing on his vulpine face. Cid chuckled and Osar growled in mock-outrage while the corner of Eric’s mouth twitched upward in amusement: Jakobin was truly the only thing he needed to prevent himself from getting a big head. Still, to stop the conversation from going any further along those lines, Eric nodded to Luna, giving the light projection permission to speak.
[Commander,] Luna began, gesturing for a hovering drone to drop down to the level of her shoulders. It was holding a sixty-one-centimeter-long baton made of blood-red metal in two of its spindly hands. [We have recovered the Red Level Key from among the Gharun Spawn’s collected spoils.]
Eric’s eyes widened in surprise and pleasure at the Interface’s news, accompanied by a cheer from Cid and laughter from Osar and Serra. Jurub, still on his knees, watched the scene with curiosity. Eric felt his spirits rise as the news sunk in, despite the fact that he had nearly forgotten about the Key after all that had happened. Going by the way his companions were reacting, apparently so had they. For more than two months the entire team had fought and bled to find this Key, only to forget all about the matter once a new threat arrived: The thought was both absurd and amazing!
Then, prompted by Luna’s expectant look, Eric extended his hand.
With a whir of mechanical rotors, the drone swooped down, deftly dropping the heavy key into Eric’s hand. As soon as the Key touched his palm, a sudden slew of notification prompts and windows layered themselves over each other, and Pig went into filter mode immediately, quickly minimizing each of the notifications to clear Eric’s vision. Finally, only two windows remained, refusing to be dismissed or minimized until Eric excused himself from his companions for a moment and actually took the time to read them:
Congratulations! You have completed Step 2 of 10 of the Hidden Quest Modified (AuthOrEd#46136): Revive the Obsidian Moon.
Step 2 Objective: Clear the Stage and Claim Authority over the Level
Sub-Objective 1: Restore the Stage’s Atmospheric Envelope 1/1
Sub-Objective 2: Control Stage Districts 5/5
Sub-Objective 3: Clear Beast Lairs/Nests 8/8
Sub-Objective 4: Eliminate Stage Bosses 9/9
Sub-Objective 5: Recover the Red Level Access Key 1/1
Reward (Modified): Access to the Red Level, Access to the next Quest Level, Type-Relevant Expert Memory Stone x1, Transcendent Ability Ticket x1, Gold Item Tickets x5
“No rest for the wicked, eh.” Eric subvocalized to Pig as he dismissed the topmost notification to see the next segment of the Obsidian Moon quest.
“The Red Level was the military level according to Luna sir,” Pig answered. “Gaining access to advanced technology and weapons, or at least information on how to manufacture them would be highly beneficial for the team.”
Eric grunted, preoccupied with reading the notification:
Hidden Quest Modified (AuthOrEd#46136): Revive the Obsidian Moon
Step 3 Objective: Clear the Red Level and Claim Authority over the Level
Sub-Objective 1: Restore the Red Level Power Plant to Operation 0/1
Sub-Objective 2: Control the Primary Armory 0/1
Sub-Objective 3: Control the Auxiliary Support Complexes 0/4
Sub-Objective 4: Control the Barracks and Training Center 0/2
Sub-Objective 5: Regain access to the ExpressWay 0/1
Sub-Objective 6: Neutralize the threat of the Blind Kings 0/3
Sub-Objective 7: Restore the Red Level Neural Node 0/1
Time Limit: Three Imperial Months
Step 3 Rewards: Access to the next Quest Level, Title Grant Authorization, Ability Improvement Ticket x2, Transcendent Ability Ticket x1, Gold Item Tickets x5
Do you accept this active quest? Yes/No
Yes.
The screens disappeared, and Eric put away the Key.
[Congratulations on your victory, Commander,] Luna said clearly, giving Eric a strange half-bow, her arms held to her chest. An action which brought another gasp of surprise from Jurub. [I shall now return to the Command Center and await further orders.]
Eric nodded, murmuring thanks as Luna’s form disintegrated into individual motes of light and disappeared, before turning back to the small group of people behind him, his gaze seeking out the thin pale form of Jurub in the middle of the group, where the alien was now engaged in a murmured conversation with Osar.
“Jurub,” Eric said, immediately gaining the mercenaries attention. “I think its time you showed us your former employers ship.”
The suddenly cooperative mercenary led them through the Issurath, passing through the wide central corridor with sealable doors that led into stasis cubicles to either side. Most of the doors had access pads glowing red, indicating the cubicles beyond them were occupied.
“Nurixan’s chosen bounty/quarry from easiest and least troublesome prey.” Jurub said off-handedly as he led the small party through the corridor without stopping, until they came to the stairs leading to a small empty anteroom that had two additional ways out of it: A small corridor that led to the bridge and a wider archway in the direction of the living quarters and the converted examination room where Eric and Serra had confined Ranla and her two feathered assistants before leaving the ship. Without being directed, the mercenary placed a hand over an intercom device recessed into the wall by the bridge corridor and spoke into it.
“Friend Er-Ra-Lo,” The mercenary said loudly and clearly, enunciating his words in an exaggerated manner. “Your former Clan-given Master/Benefactor met Ifni has thisday… vessel Issurath now is prize of conquerors.”
There was a burst of high-pitched chatter from the intercom’s other end.
“No, no, my friend,” Jurub returned, raising one of his primary hands to Eric’s small group to signal everything was fine. “No killing and no ransom; Oolulalobora agreement, soluluf-arras.”
“What was that, mercenary?” Osar snarled, his heavy sword suddenly appearing and settling point first on Jurub’s highest collarbone.
“Peace, friend Urgan,” The Immuran said, although his skin became more translucent, forcing Eric to grimace with distaste at another display of the alien’s internal organs. “I was giving assurances: Pilot Er-Ra-Lo is a Jakkata, very good pilots, but also very nervous, yah?”
The door to the ship’s bridge suddenly hissed open, distracting everyone enough that Jurub was able to step away quietly from Osar’s weapon. Just inside the entrance the mercenary turned, inviting all of them into the room beyond.
The Issurath’s bridge was a large, oval chamber with four large, and very-cluttered cubicle stations clustered near the doorway. At the far end from the entrance was a circular dais, raised about a meter off the floor and reached by three shallow stairs, facing a large multi-screen visual wall, which was currently being occupied by a peculiar-looking xenoform.
As he walked the few steps into the bridge Eric studied the revealed pilot. His examination took in the hovering bronze-colored ceramic-metal mobility suit that looked like a stubby rounded-top rocket. Shielded openings at the base of the suit allowed the alien to extrude its numerous thin, but very dexterous, tentacles, two of which were hovering over a mind-boggling assortment of switches and buttons that likely controlled the ship. A rectangular window on the mobility suit’s front allowed Eric a glimpse of a something blue and glowing within the suit before it darkened into opacity.
“Peace?” The creature warbled from a speaker set below the suit’s window, bobbing slightly in what Eric assumed was a sign of respect.
Jurub and the rest of the people in the room looked to Eric, an action that was quickly noticed and copied by the pilot.
“We mean you no harm, pilot,” Eric said slowly, showing his empty right hand to the xenoform. “Surrender peacefully, and we will let you live.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring, Captain,” Serra stage-whispered, getting a nervous chuckle from Cid. The pilot hesitated for a moment, before finally deciding to retract its tentacles and slowly, but gracefully, float down from the dais to stand uncertainly beside Jurub.
“Jakkata are a pacifist species, Lord Rama,” The mercenary explained as Osar disappeared his sword. “Here is Er-Ra-Lo slave in permanence of the Giboga Clan. He will be no trouble to everyone.”
Eric considered the pair for a minute, irritated that his supposedly stasis-held stump of an arm was now beginning to develop an itch: One that was located a good two inches beyond the end of his remaining flesh. Gritting his teeth, Eric looked the fox-faced Jurub in the eye.
“Will you agree to peacefully wait until I make a decision regarding your employment?”
“Like to Er-Ra-Lo I am not threat to you Lord Rama,” Jurub replied, looking steadily back at Eric. “I will do no harm nor allow any harm to occur until you give me an answer.”
Eric nodded curtly before turning to Osar and giving the Urgan a few muttered commands. With a quick smile and a nod, the big Urgan turned to Jurub and the pilot, shepherding the two towards the examination room where Serra had previously been held.
After they left, the other two remaining Terrans on the bridge looked to Eric, who pointed towards the desks near the door. “Let’s find out what we can about this ship, its crew, and its cargo.”
Nodding in agreement, his companions went to work, looking through the room’s stacks of books, data plates and other junk, storing anything interesting objects that they found for examination later.
A few minutes after they’d begun, a long, high whistle interrupted everyone’s work.
Cid stood up from what appeared to be Nurixan’s work desk where he had been going through the ship’s log and handed Eric a twelve-centimeter data-stick projecting a light green hardlight screen. Eric awkwardly took the stick with his one remaining hand and turned it right-side up, his frown deepening as he studied the information on it.
“What is it?” Serra asked, pausing in her examination of the ship’s pilot locker.
“Prisoner manifest,” Eric answered curtly. “Seems like our annoying little bounty-hunter has had quite a busy half-year… There are twelve people on this list, all of them safely tucked away in those stasis chambers we passed.”
“That’s a lot of potentially dangerous people, sir.” Serra said as she came near to peer at the manifest. “Do we let them all go?”
Eric didn’t reply immediately, reading the brief descriptions that followed each of the prisoner’s names. Most of the entries looked harmless enough, with most of the bounties on the prisoners being low-level, non-violent crimes ranging from petty theft to sleeping with a Clan head’s senior wife. None of them looked particularly threatening or special, appearing to be just the common criminal detritus one found everywhere that civilization was present.
Then Eric found the oldest bounty that the ship held; a prisoner who was identified only as Shander, and a glowing red notation below it that merely stated:
Place and keep in the special containment room. Never let out.
That’s interesting, Eric thought as he gripped the data-stick tightly, looking out the doorway in the direction of the holding cells. Sensing his change in mood, Serra arched an eyebrow at him, prompting Eric to give her a slight smile.
Let’s see what this criminal has to say for itself.