Ranla watched with growing interest as the human female that called itself Serra and the larger human male called Cid made their preparations for re-attaching the human Jad Eric’s left arm. They had graciously requested to ask for her permission to use the Issurath’s makeshift medical bay, although they knew she had no authority to refuse them.
Still, she appreciated the gesture.
Too many times since she had been kidnapped and placed on this accursed ship, she had had to endure the rudeness and ill-manners that were to be expected of the dry-folk. Very few of the Galaxy’s races appreciated the nuances of etiquette and propriety that made life upon the Rut-Guarai, the Spawning worlds of her race, even possible.
She was a trained savant though, and a realist, and she had come to accept that few dry-folk races had the patience or tolerance to go along with the daily rituals common to her people. Her time on Heroas and her education at the Sector University there had given her extensive experience dealing with different aspects of Galactic society and its component species, allowing her to see how they could all come to work together for the greater good. However, it was her longer stint as an Explorator Bio-Savant for the Falwa Planetary Expansion Corps that had taught her patience and a willingness to learn.
And what these humans were doing was certainly interesting.
First, the Terrans had asked Ranla to use the surgical table’s accompanying anesthetic array to induce Jad Eric to sleep, which she had accomplished after a few adjustments to the machine’s parameters. She then set up the bright operational lights to adequately illuminate the surgical area.
After the Jad was finally under the two humans had then placed a bulky metal cuff made out of several different metals sporting an adjustable array of peculiarly-shaped needles along the stump of Jad Eric’s arm. While Serra concerned herself with adjusting and fussing over the cuff Cid, muttering to himself, had attached a thick black wire to the device whose other end was connected to what was recognizably an aether-core generator, albeit a fairly novel and somewhat, to Ranla’s eyes at least, makeshift design.
When her painstaking inspection of the placement of the device was done, Serra nodded to Cid, and the man pulled down a lever on the generator that sent aetheric energy into the cuff. Several telltale lights and the low but pervasive hum of working machinery filled the room. Ranla, unable to control herself, finally gave in and asked:
“What does that device do, friend Serra?”
Serra gave her a quizzical look, but after a moment to consider, the Terran answered. “It’s a modified version of a device we used in the Corps called a Bleed Arrestor Cuff, using aetheric flows instead of the usual AI assisted pressure threads. With this I can precisely control which muscle bundles, nerves and blood vessels to constrict and release as we proceed with the Captain’s arm reattachment.”
Ranla nodded in understanding, but continued her line of inquiry. “But why don’t you just use healing abilities to completely reattach the arm? If none of you have a suitable ability, I can do it for you!”
“Both Cid and I have appropriate healing abilities,” The human woman smiled briefly as she answered while shaking her head. “But we have come to believe that using undirected healing not only wastes aether but also gives rise to certain conformational and nervous problems over time.”
Ranla, caught by surprise by the woman’s explanation, allowed her mouth to gape open, inadvertently flicking out her tongue to clean her large eyes as she thought about what the Terran had said.
Medicine was considered a fairly unimportant branch of the bio-sciences in the Empire, studied more by xeno-explorators, agonists and interrogators, considering that almost anyone could choose a healing ability to heal themselves as needed. Many leading and prominent Bio-Savants had decried this lack of interest in the medical profession, but few could argue against the efficacy of personal abilities and for the wealthy, alchemical preparations. As a young student she had entertained some ideas about how aether control and manipulation could be combined with various techniques to improve therapeutic processes, but her instructor had done her best to discourage her from pursuing the craft.
But now, here were these two Terrans preparing to use various devices and techniques to reattach a man’s arm. It was fascinating! If she could somehow get these people back to Maya V and in touch with her tea and the facilities there, how much more could she learn? It was an attractive thought, and Ranla began thinking up ways to make it a reality. Whatever happened, she had to find a way to bring these people and ideas back with her!
Her musings were interrupted when the man called Cid began to set up a new contraption. Watching closely, Ranla saw that it was made up of several two-liter glass bottles holding several softly glowing liquids, attached by dedicated tubes to hollow, blade-like needles and probes.
Noticing her puzzled expression, Cid explained how the device would work before Ranla could even ask.
“These are specially-forged surgical needles I machine-crafted with Luna’s help to allow introduction of controlled amounts of healing potion to specific areas,” The Terran explained as he took his place at the now extended table. “In my former profession, my expertise was with cybernetic systems and limb replacements, are you familiar with those?”
Ranla nodded, though mechanical limb replacements were popular only at the fringe regions of the Empire, where competent alchemists and their expensive concoctions were rare. Cid saw her gesture and continued, readying the needles over the exposed stump and severed limb while Serra concentrated on controlling the Bleed Arrestor Cuff.
Moving with practiced, delicate movements of his fingers, Cid began the operation. “Using miniscule amounts of healing fluid, I plan to first fuse the ends of the severed humerus, before stretching and connecting the muscles, nerves, and blood vessels. It is definitely a longer process, but we feel that at the end of it, it will be as if the arm had never been severed.”
Ranla, completely captivated, clasped her long-fingered hands before her body and settled down to watch closely as the operation began.
Later that afternoon, Eric awakened in one of the cabins aboard the Issurath that had previously been exclusively for Nurixan’s use. Having been stripped quite thoroughly by drones directed by Osar, the once-opulent chamber was now nearly bare, leaving only the wide, soft bed to hint at its former state.
His awakening was easy, his mind instantly clear as he sat up carefully.
“Welcome back, sir.” Pig spoke inside his head even as a swirl of pixels appeared and coalesced at the foot of the bed to take on Luna’s tall, elongated form.
[I am glad to see that the operation to attach your arm was successful Commander,] Pig interjected softly as Eric immediately moved to check his left arm. [Miss Serra and Mister Cid worked extremely well with the exo-scientist Ranla and finished the operation quickly.]
“The alien helped?”
[Yes Commander.]
Eric thought for a moment as he swung his legs out and stood up. Finding himself in his underclothes, he quickly found a set of clothes left folded for him, and dressed, noting with relief how easy the operation was again now that he had bot sets of arms to work with.
[Security Chief Jakobin and Weapons Officer Baratuu are waiting at the Issurath’s private mess-hall.] Luna reported as Eric finished and walked towards the door leading out of the cabin. [They have expressed a desire to speak to you about certain matters regarding recent events and developments, sir.]
“Thanks, Luna,” Eric said as he began walking down the corridor. “Please inform them I will be with them shortly.”
The quick walk down the carpeted corridor gave Eric time to gather his scattered thoughts, bringing him back to a state of mind wherein he could strategize and make plans for the future. For now, it seemed clear to him that the way forward for him and his small team was the obvious one: They had to open, explore, and then reclaim the Red Level as well as finishing the survey and clearance of the Stage. Of course, their over-arching goal was getting the Obsidian Moon to full operational status and mobility, as well as making sure they could protect and defend all their gains. Sooner than later they would also need to expand the scope of their operations and very likely make contact with other population centers in the surrounding region of space. To do all these things, it was becoming painfully apparent that they would need to recruit more personnel to cover all the work needed, which meant they also needed to begin deciding on the structure of the organization that they would have to create.
When Eric stepped into the Issurath’s mess he found the two people Luna had mentioned, seated at the single table and eating what appeared to be jerked meat sandwiches, which immediately made Eric’s mouth water.
“Jad Eric,” Osar greeted his appearance, the big man standing from his place at the beautiful white stone table that dominated the room. Quickly, he flashed his ring and placed a sandwich-laden plate on an unoccupied space. His gaze hovered over Eric’s left arm and a slow smile brightened his broad face. “It’s good to see you whole.”
“I’m glad to be whole, Osar,” Eric replied with a smile, clasping hands with the Urgan. “Thanks to Serra, Cid, and apparently Ranla.”
“It was good work, sir.” Serra said modestly, smiling widely, brushing back her now-longer hair from her face. Eric smiled wider, before taking the chair in front of the snack Osar had provided and hungrily digging in.
A few minutes after his arrival a smaller-than-usual drone, about the diameter of Eric’s palm in size, entered the room from the other end, positioning itself a few meters from the table. Luna appeared once the drone stopped and began to hover, the projection giving a bow in their general direction.
“Welcome again, Luna,” Eric said around a mouthful of fresh-baked bread and spicy meat. “You may begin with your report.”
Luna straightened and without preamble, began speaking.
[As requested, Commander, my diagnostic drones have completed their assessment of the vessel designated the Issurath, all of which I have placed into this data wafer for your examination.] As Luna spoke, the drone left its position above the Vessel Interface’s shoulder to deposit a small data wafer onto Eric’s palm. As he chewed and listened, Eric took time to study the new drone intently, recognizing significant changes on this particular model as opposed to the larger and more simplistic designs that Luna had been previously using.
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“There have been gradual but noticeable changes to the general make-up of Luna’s drones, sir.” Pig contributed. “Her repairs and refurbishment of the Fortress and Command Center drone manufacturing and development facilities have very likely reached optimal operational capacity.”
Eric grunted in reply, making a mental note to ask Luna for a comprehensive progress report on the Obsidian Moon’s rehabilitation. The drone returned to Luna’s shoulder as the Vessel Interface continued.
[To summarize my findings: The Issurath is, pending some minor repairs, completely void-capable and comes with a wide-range communications array that can allow us to reach and even monitor communications within the entire quadrant where we are currently located.]
“That powerful huh?” Osar said, stroking his chin fronds thoughtfully. “With the two ships we have I count several nearby orbital stations or trade ports that we can use to start liquidating a few of our gains.”
“Good idea Osar,” Serra said. “Cid was telling me there were certain materials and instruments he needed to continue his various experimental projects.”
“We can probably ask some of our inadvertent guests about possible places to visit in the region, especially that mercenary Jurub,” Eric interjected, making steady headway into demolishing his sandwich. “I believe we’ll need more people on our team if we want to finish exploring the Stage and the later the Red Level.”
[Excellent idea sir. To help with any strategy sessions I have also identified several areas of particular interest across the Stage for further investigation.] Luna waved her hand and a holographic display of the newly-cleared Stage appeared before the three people. [The Stage’s beast population now poses a negligible threat to any one of you, although I still urge caution at any of the areas I have indicated, as those may have hidden dangers.]
Eric swallowed the last of the sandwich before holding up a hand, stopping Luna’s dialogue. He turned to Osar.
“Do you think we can trust Jurub?”
Osar thought for a moment, before giving a casual shrug. “The man is a mercenary, Jad-Os, and normally I would say we shouldn’t rely on someone whose loyalty is essentially for sale but… after all I’ve seen and heard from him, perhaps we can gain his actual loyalty if we offer him a place with us and swear a System Oath.”
“We seem to be awfully trusting of these Oaths, Osar,” Serra said from where she sat, her dark-skinned face serious. “Are we sure we want to risk a security breach based solely on a person swearing an oath?”
“The Oaths are System-enforced Serra,” Osar explained, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably at the mere suggestion of someone breaking one. “They are widely used for everything from simple debts to membership in most of the Sects and Clans in the Empire.”
“It’s better than what we had in our old Universe isn’t it?” Eric added, to which Serra gave a reluctant nod of agreement. “At least with these Oaths we’ll have some insurance regarding whatr we can expect behavior-wise from any new employees.”
“Will we be having salaries now?” Serra half-jokingly asked, but Eric could see she was thinking furiously through the possibilities. “We’ll probably need to have someone assigned to act as our Personnel Chief then, eh?”
“I can handle staffing and organization as long as we are at the beginning level Jad-Os, as well as send out feelers to a few old comrades or groups that might be willing to join us here on the Moon.” Osar spoke just as the silence began to become uncomfortable. “That should be good enough to begin but if everything goes as planned, we will eventually need someone who actually knows what they’re doing our numbers start to increase.”
[I can draw up personnel lists, assign tasks, and set schedules, Commander,] Luna interjected. [But someone will have to communicate with people and settle problems.]
“Thanks Luna,” Eric said, looking with regret at the empty plate before him. With a grin, Osar produced a new sandwich and placed it on the plate. Nodding his thanks, Eric continued. “So then, we all agree that we need to get more recruits?”
“I say yes, Jad-Os.”
[I can see no other alternative, Commander.]
“I say aye, sir… as long as we agree we need to keep an eye on anyone new until they prove themselves.”
“Sounds like the Corps all over again, right?” Eric quipped, to which Serra laughed, remembering the moments when interpersonal tensions between the various hard-cases on the Corp had flared into violence.
“So, Osar you need to assess everything we know about the people we currently have aboard, including the prisoners still in confinement, and see who we can invite to join us.” Osar nodded, already mentally going through the possibilities. “Let’s gather them all and meet up at the Fortress’ Teleportation hub room for a little talk in about an hour.”
With that, the meeting ended.
At the appointed hour, ten people entered the now brightly-lit Hub Room, gathering in a small group near the information stele that stood at the edge of the largest centrally-located teleportation diagram. Everyone was wide-eyed and staring, for even though Eric and his people had been through this place many times before, this was the first time that Luna had allowed the room to be fully illuminated. Osar, bringing up the rear and wearing his full battlesuit, kept a wary eye on each of their guest, paying particular attention to the mercenary Jurub and the hulking figure of Shander.
As everyone approached the center of the room a cloud of drones flew in from one of the entrances and hovered overhead, while Luna materialized beside Jad Eric, her form now dressed in a black and silver uniform similar to what the Jad-Os himself wore.
“Welcome everyone,” Jad Eric began from his position directly in front of the stele, motioning with white gloved hands for everyone to gather close to hear what he had to say. The silver buttons that lined the left side of his long-sleeved uniform glittered under the room’s bright lights. “I have called you all here today so you can see what we are striving towards, as well as give all of you an offer.”
As they had agreed beforehand, Serra and Cid took up places flanking the Jad-Os, both of them stern-faced and menacing in their bulky battlesuits, weapons hidden but looking ready for anything.
“As you may have seen outside, me and my team are currently working to gain back control of this entire Ark-Ship.” There was a slight stirring from the gathered people, but only Jurub seemed to show any sign that they recognized the term. “It is a difficult, dangerous, and still ongoing task… one that we now ask you to join.”
“What happens if we do not agree human-Jad?” Shander suddenly growled, drawing himself up to his full height. Osar had managed to find the big reptiloid xenoform a set of clothes that fit his uniquely massive physique, so the former prisoner was now dressed in a three-piece creamy white dress suit worn over a dark red undershirt that had once belonged to one of Osar’s ill-fated comrades aboard the Plunderer. “Do we die for our refusal?”
The other five people of the audience reacted differently to Shander’s blunt question, with most of them turning to Eric with apprehension.
“No one will die if they refuse to take our offer,” Eric said, pitching his voice louder to regain everyone’s attention. He gave the big reptiloid a raised eyebrow and a slight smile, causing the big man to give a low chuckle and a nonchalant roll of his massive shoulders. “You will still adhere to your Oaths of Parole, a daily ration, and free reign to roam the Stage and find a place to stay there.”
“Will we be allowed safe passage to the nearest Imperial station or holding?” This one came from the ceramic-metal-covered body of the Jakkatan pilot, who was shifting from tentacle to tentacle in agitation.
“Unfortunately, friend Er-Ra-Lo,” Eric said softly, spreading his hands. “We cannot allow anyone to leave while we are vulnerable to attack from any outside forces… However, once the Ark is capable of defending itself from a determined foe, we will definitely give you safe passage to anywhere you choose.”
“And that will be a long time coming, eh?” The Jakkata persisted, two of his tentacles growing paler in what Osar recognized as a sign of distress.
“Again, unfortunately, I cannot give you a precise timeline about when our defensive capabilities will be deemed sufficient.”
“Will we have the same freedom as anyone else on your team?” The next question came from Ranla, who was holding the wing claws of the Mayarad in each hand. Osar, familiar with the body-language of the Falwan species, noted that the matriarch was more excited than alarmed.
“Eventually, yes,” Eric answered her question. “Initially there will be certain areas within the Ark that will be off-limits to any new members, but certainly, once we feel you can be trusted completely everyone will have the same rights as any of the original members of the team.”
“That seems rather vague human-Jad,” Shander once more interjected, and although Osar clearly saw Serra and Cid both show annoyance at his words, he was gratified to see that Jad Eric himself remained calm. “Are you saying we should stay in service in the hopes of eventually getting rewarded with your trust?”
“Trust is earned Shander of Tarna, just like anything else in this Universe,” Eric said steadily but clearly, meeting the big xenoform’s green eyes. “Your service however, will not go unrewarded: We offer compensation in the form of a standardized salary, equipment as needed, and when you are able to use them, a selection of Beast Cores and spell stones to advance your Gens Build.”
“Will even such as we gain these Beast Cores?” The male Mayarad surprisingly broke into the conversation.
“Can you use Cores, feathered one?” Eric asked gently, looking directly at the avian.
“I… I do not know, Jad Eric,” The diminutive alien answered forlornly, turning its neck to look back and up at Ranla. “None of our tribe has been able to use the Cores before the arrival of the Teachers.”
“They are at the cusp of being inducted into the System, Jad-Os,” Ranla said defensively as every eye in the room turned towards her. “We were getting ready for familiarization trials when the Bolseq descended onto the world and abducted us.”
“Fret not, little one, once the System-window appears, you will be able to slot in beast cores.” Unexpectedly, it was Shander who next spoke up, his deep rumbling voice gaining as soft a tone as any of them had ever heard him adopt. “It is clear to me that you and your mate are indeed close to induction, and being in this place will only accelerate the process.”
Osar’s interest was piqued by the former prisoner’s words, and his eyes narrowed. How did this man know enough to say such words? Once again, Osar felt keenly the need to get this man on their side.
Then, for the first time, Jurub spoke up.
“I, Jurub sar-iket Karoya, free claw of the Shodar-Hurumet, swear and bind myself by the System and under Ifni’s gaze to extend fealty and accept Jad Eric and all he places above me as having lawful authority over me and all my dealings, accepting reward and punishment as he decides, until such time that this Oath of Loyalty is rendered void by dismissal or my own death.”
Although clearly surprised by the Immuran’s sudden oath, Eric merely cocked his head to the side for a moment, before answering the mercenary’s oath correctly, though stated in a form that Osar had not heard before.
“I, Eric Rama, empowered and given authority by the strictures of the System and the Laws it follows, take Jurub sar-iket Karoya’s Oath of Loyalty, freely given and solemnly received, to hold and retain until dismissed, upholding his honor as mine own, to defend and protect as is his right to expect, as long as life and breath remain within me.”
There was an audible rumbling sound, and the aether of the room shivered for a moment, as the System indubitably accepted the Oath of Loyalty between the two men.
Jurub stumbled back, his body turning almost completely transparent, clutching at his head.
Osar stepped forward, only to stop as Shander reached out a hand to steady the reeling Immuran. Surprise writ over his face for the first time since he had been freed from his captivity, the huge reptiloid looked down with wide eyes at where Eric stood, a slight tightness at the Jad’s jaw the only sign that he had been affected by his interaction with Jurub.
What happened next, by comparison, was almost as anticlimactic as it was predictable.
An hour later Osar walked into the Issurath’s bridge, giving the entire area a quick look around to make sure no one was inside. Satisfied, he then keyed the outer door shut and locked it, before heading for the communications console.
With a few moments to familiarize himself with the Issurath’s configuration, Osar was soon able to send out a tight-beam message to a number only a select number of people in the Empire knew about.
There was a brief moment of static, and then a single click followed by silence.
“I need to get a message to Symbol.” Osar said slowly into the communications bead to emphasize his words. “Tell her I recently witnessed a Confluence, just as she predicted.”
There was a muffled reply from the other end of the line.
“She’ll know what to do… I’ll also need you to get the word out to some other people.”
There was a longer spate of incomprehensible words, then Osar violently shook his head.
“No, Vorei,” Osar stressed. “What I need is a very specific set of killers, not any of the usual skull-smashers we take on jobs… now listen carefully…”
Osar spoke softly into the bead for a few more minutes, before terminating the call and then carefully wiping out all evidence that he had made the call at all from the console’s logs. After a last-minute inspection, Osar left, leaving the room once more in silence.
Here ends the first book of the Obsidian Moon series.