CHAPTER 15

RDF Capital Battlecruiser Resilience

Near Planet Eteren, Eteren One Orbital Starbase

Mottmor System, Venddral Raidezel Sector

Date: Zeran 19, Year 4731

Klamarez woke early—a few hours of sleep were more than enough for his Camerian physiology. Meanwhile, Garen still rested in his own quarters, unaware of his upcoming meeting with General Maylone. Klamarez lay still for a moment, adjusting to the unfamiliar guest quarters aboard the RDF Resilience. Gradually, the dark room took shape around him, his Camerian eyes easily adapting to the low light.

He sat up, switched on the lights, and stretched. The steady vibration of the engines thrummed beneath his feet, filling him with a comforting resonance. Feels like a well-tuned ship, he observed, especially given its size. His ears twitched, picking up the faint, nearly inaudible undertone. Though he hadn’t spent much time on military vessels, he’d expected something… different, something less calming.

RDF components were treasures to Klamarez—each one valued, purchased from dealers specializing in remnants of old conflicts between the Seven Worlds of Rhyus and the Vorcon Empire. Parts from that era had recently grown scarce, with battlefields picked clean in the decade since the war's end, making each piece an even more prized addition to his projects. New components were considerably more expensive, and even harder to come by on Chiex.

Vorcon tech, though valued for its utility, was notoriously difficult to integrate with other systems, often requiring frustrating amounts of extra effort. Klamarez could make it work when necessary, but it stayed low on his list of preferred components; few pieces of it made it into his projects. When it did work, though, it worked well. Unyielding, just like the Vorcons themselves.

Camerian achievements in space travel were impressive, especially given their strength in adapting and enhancing existing technologies rather than inventing from scratch. Some might say that their relentless modifications—cobbling together tech from various sources—had created something distinctly Camerian, a blend of parts from many places, uniquely working together. Generally peaceful and unambitious, Camerians pursued technology as a creative outlet—a way to improve life, not to gain power.

The Vorcon conquest of Calio had changed many Camerians, pushing some to abandon their pacifism—a shift Klamarez had reluctantly felt within himself. Though peace remained at his core, survival demanded he adapt. Those dark days had left him no choice; he had to be strong, not only for himself but for others as well.

Since arriving on the Resilience, he’d been eager to explore—not just its rooms, but what lay within its systems. Would they notice if I took just a little peek? Started opening some panels? he wondered, temptation tugging at him. But he figured the ship’s internal sensors would sound the alarm immediately. Better not, he decided, a grin softening his feline-like features as he pictured himself popping open panels and crawling through the ship’s access shafts.

Eager for the day to begin, Klamarez groomed his fur, carefully aligning the brown, white, and orange strands on his face. He donned his blue coveralls, checking his reflection to ensure his brown tool straps were secure. With his ears upright, he grinned in satisfaction.

The previous night, after their arrival, Klamarez and Conus dined in the mess hall. Their presence drew some curious glances, but they were mostly left alone. It was hardly surprising—a Camerian and an RSIA officer with advanced augments like Conus, arriving alongside the exiled General Garen Rivers, were bound to attract attention.

Over several cups of coffee, Klamarez expressed interest in learning more about the ship, and Conus gladly shared what he knew of the Resilience and other Capital Battle Cruisers within the Rhyus Defense Fleet, talking well into the evening.

Klamarez thoughts drifted to the Seeker. Parting with the ship felt unthinkable, especially after their journey from the Chiaxten System to the Mottmor System, crossing the Venddral Raidezel Sector. The idea of anyone else handling the controls or tampering with the parts he’d modified felt wrong, like giving away a piece of himself. I need to get that debt settled.

He had places he wanted to visit across the galaxy, and the Seeker would grant him that freedom. Think of the traders I could meet... the other Camerian communities I could visit. Still, he hoped Calio Landing would remain his home, as it had been for the past few years.

Leaving his quarters, Klamarez made his way to the hangar bay where the Seeker was stored. A couple of guards watched him as he passed, but his confident stride left them with no reason to stop him. As he neared the ship, they nodded politely, greeting him with a courteous, “Good day.”

Klamarez activated the Seeker’s entrance ramp. As he stepped inside, he began whistling a Camerian folk tune, the melody bringing back a song he hadn’t thought of in ages. Softly, he recited the lyrics:

“I’ve traveled the stars and always find my way home,

Back home, to the place I never wanted to leave,

My home of Calio.

The stars never shine quite the same to me when Mircarain isn’t looking down.

The galaxy can’t change the Camerian way; no matter what happens, we remain the same.

My home of Calio.”

His voice trailed off. Everything changed.

He moved through the Seeker, inspecting each panel, wire, and connection, making notes to ensure the IRD wouldn’t cause future problems. Though he trusted Conus’s suggested reroute, he wanted to be thorough; the Seeker was new, still untested. One connection, in particular, caught his eye—slightly frayed but holding.

Instead of hastily dismantling anything, he preferred to make a list of what needed attention, ensuring no hidden damage had escaped notice during the last Vorcon assault. Turning on some music, he let the soft strains of Camerian folk melodies drift from a speaker inside the Seeker, the gentle sounds seeping into the hangar bay.

Dictating notes into his PDA, he murmured to himself, “I need to replace all the wiring, power couplings, and inductors in the midsection as soon as possible. They’re fine for now, but a complete burnout is possible if I don’t.” The Vorcon weapons fire hadn’t disabled them, but power surges had caused some issues. I should have enough spare parts, but my stock isn’t at a level I’m comfortable with. If we encounter any unexpected issues, I might not have the necessary components to fix them on the fly, he noted, continuing his list.

Lost in his work, Klamarez was startled by the sudden appearance of a human officer in the doorway. Chief Maintenance Technician Clyden Galre stood there—a round figure with gray hair, a jovial expression, and a large mustache. He hurried over, casting a quick glance at the guards.

“Pardon me, sir, but do you have authorization to be working in this hangar bay and on this craft?” Clyden inquired politely over the music, consulting his PDA and glancing at the ship’s registry. “The Seeker, is it?”

Realizing he might have breached protocol, Klamarez turned the music off on his PDA; it was connected to the Seeker’s interior system. “I apologize, sir. I didn’t realize authorization was required. I should have checked first. I’m not used to being on ships like this.”

Clyden relaxed, extending his hand in a friendly gesture. “Call me Clyden—Clyden Galre.”

“Klamarez,” he replied, shaking Clyden’s hand.

“And your last name, Klamarez?”

“Camerians don’t use last names, just Klamarez,” he explained. “My uncle Marares used to call me Klam.”

“Would you prefer I call you Klam?”

“No, call me Klamarez,” he laughed, shaking his head.

Clyden smiled. “Understood, Klamarez. You shouldn’t be in here unescorted. Colonel Nolvin wouldn’t be pleased,” he added with a hint of concern. “Nor would the ship’s security chief, Lieutenant Colonel Jarnin.”

“I won’t let it happen again Clyden.”

“Oh, it’s okay. So, what brings you here, Klamarez? You came with General Rivers and the augmented fellow?” Clyden’s curiosity was clear.

Klamarez launched into a long-winded explanation of how he’d ended up on the Resilience, his words animated as he reenacted events since leaving Chiex. The two started talking as if they’d been friends for years, their conversation naturally shifting to Klamarez’s modifications and work on the Seeker.

Clyden took a long look at the Seeker. “Since I’m escorting you, there’s no harm in taking a closer look at your ship, is there? I’ve always been fascinated by custom modifications. Working around Eteren One has been a real joy; you get to see lots of unique craft.”

“You get to work daily with some of the best tech in the galaxy,” Klamarez noted.

“That I do,” Clyden agreed, gesturing to the Seeker, “but I rarely get the chance to experiment. Everything’s by the book.”

They ventured into the Seeker, with Klamarez leading the way. Inside, he opened various panels, revealing the intricate work beneath and the vast array of different tech, even pointing out some of his in-progress projects. Clyden found himself captivated by the design’s complexity.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Clyden said, examining the exposed components. “This is some fine work, Klamarez. It’s nice to see someone so dedicated to their craft. I’m so used to the same old ships, day in and day out. Takes the joy out of it sometimes.”

“What’s this thing?” Clyden asked, gesturing to a compact unit on the wall.

“A nutrient paste dispenser,” Klamarez replied. “Three flavors, all the nutrients you’d need.”

“Is it any good?” Clyden asked, already grimacing.

Klamarez smirked. “Not at all. Want to try it?”

“That’s quite alright. I had a delightful breakfast this morning, thank you,” Clyden replied with a chuckle.

“They have breakfast on this ship?” Klamarez asked, his eyes widening.

Clyden unconsciously rubbed his belly. “Three full meals a day, plus you can stop by anytime for a snack.”

Klamarez took in the information, feeling a slight rumble in his own stomach. How do they get any work done here?

They moved outside, where Klamarez pointed out the Seeker’s dual Verta engines and a smaller third engine.

“That one’s not operational yet,” Klamarez explained.

“What’s its purpose?” Clyden asked, eyeing the smaller engine. “Surely, two Verta engines are more than enough.”

“It probably is, Clyden. But I’m trying to get a little more out of her. If we’re being chased, that engine gives the Seeker something extra. As you can see, she’s built more for evasion than combat.”

They both glanced at the Seeker’s two light energy turrets, and Clyden nodded in agreement, noting the ship’s modest weapon complement.

“Evasion is always a good tactic,” he replied. “Still, I might add a ventral turret on the bottom, assuming you’ve got enough power. Plenty of space there for one.”

“Enough power? You did see my reactor, right?” Klamarez chuckled.

“I did, but I’d need a bit more information,” Clyden replied thoughtfully. “For now, I think you’ve got enough power, but with all those empty slots... Looks like you’re far from done. Still working on plans?”

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“Plans aren’t my problem. It’s time and parts,” Klamarez admitted. “No more offensive weapons, though. I’ve got a special, non-combat device planned.”

Clyden nodded appreciatively. “It’s rare to find someone who cares so much about their ship. Most folks these days just see them as tools. Take Verta pilots, for instance—they have no attachment to their craft anymore. Back in the day, you wouldn’t touch someone else’s Verta Fighter. Now it’s just another vessel—if one handles funny, they grab a different one. One pilot didn’t like his seat, so I assigned him a new Verta craft, and you know what happened? He ended up crashing into a passenger liner just outside Eteren One.”

“Your ship’s your lifeline out there; a bond with it is important,” Klamarez said with a shrug.

“Absolutely,” Clyden agreed.

Klamarez offered a wry smile. “I guess he was comfortable crashing through.”

Clyden let out an awkward chuckle. “I guess he was.”

“I hope he survived,” Klamarez added, his tone quickly softening.

Clyden shook his head with a sigh. “No, afraid not.”

“Oh... was it long ago?”

“Just last week.”

Klamarez glanced sideways. “I see,” he said, regretting the timing, “...no proximity alerts?”

Clyden sighed, shaking his head. “Apparently, the alerts were ‘faulty.’” He quickly shifted topics. “Anyway, if you need any help with parts or advice while you’re in the system, just let me know.”

“Where’s the best place for parts?” Klamarez asked, hopeful.

“Eteren One should have what you’re looking for.”

“We’re headed there next—or at least, that was the plan,” Klamarez replied, a hint of excitement in his voice as he looked forward to seeing the station.

“It’s quite the place. Should have everything you’ll need—and maybe a few things you didn’t know you wanted.”

Their conversation soon drew the attention of Cel, a young maintenance technician fresh out of the academy. With her tool belt clinking softly, she approached, Hanging on every word as Klamarez and Clyden discussed modifications to the Seeker. Noticing her interest, Clyden invited her to join in, introducing her to Klamarez.

“You’ve made some impressive modifications,” Cel remarked. “What’s Calio Landing like? And Chiex? I’ve never met a Camerian before.”

Klamarez smiled, thinking, Her first Camerian? I better leave a good impression, as he shared highlights about his home and the community’s adaptability. Cel’s curiosity grew, especially when he described life on Calio.

"Calio Landing sounds peaceful. I hope the Vorcon leave Chiex alone," She said, her voice full of concern, referencing recent events.

“Lucky they didn’t fire on the settlement from orbit. Vorcons are as cold as they come,” Clyden added, shaking his head.

Klamarez nodded, a hint of pride on his face. “Fortunately, I built a shield for the settlement.”

“A shield?” Cel’s eyes widened. “What kind of shield?”

Klamarez launched into the technical aspects, detailing the protective system he’d designed for Calio Landing. Cel and Clyden listened closely, asking questions about each component and its function.

“Well, you’re just full of talent, Klamarez,” Clyden said, clearly impressed.

Cel nodded, sincerity in her voice. “That’s impressive.”

Clyden grinned. “We could use someone like you around here, but I think you’d be bored before long.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Senior Engineer Narm, who spoke in a light, playful tone. “Clyden, I’ve been waiting on that report log,” he reminded, though without much urgency.

Clyden flushed slightly. “Oh, it’s ready, Chief. I’ll submit it right now. Got a bit sidetracked—you know me,” he admitted sheepishly.

Narm waved it off with a casual gesture, hardly fazed.

As Clyden prepared to send the report via his PDA, he checked the time and chuckled. “Would you look at that—it’s lunchtime already!” His stomach rumbled, and he gave his belly an exaggerated rub, emphasizing how quickly the morning had flown by.

“Klamarez, would you care to join us for lunch?” Clyden asked, giving him a warm look.

Clyden, Cel, and Narm turned toward Klamarez with inviting smiles.

“I’d love to,” Klamarez replied, his grin widening. For a Camerian, sharing a meal was a mark of respect.

Clyden led the way, and the group walked together, engaging in light-hearted chatter.

The mess hall’s warmth softened the Resilience’s otherwise sterile atmosphere. Savory, spiced scents filled the air, making Klamarez’s nose twitch. Small tables dotted the space, with larger communal ones in the center and quieter booths along the edges for more private exchanges. Laughter and conversation filled the room, creating a lively atmosphere.

Near the back, Colonel Nolvin sat alone, his posture rigid despite an attempt at appearing relaxed. His sharp, unwavering gaze flicked up as the group entered, settling on Klamarez with a probing intensity.

The meal selection was through a virtual menu, and as they reached their place in line, the system efficiently served up their chosen dishes. Freshly prepared meals slid out on a conveyor, ready to eat. Clyden, well-versed in navigating the automated setup, guided Klamarez through the options, sharing his personal favorites. “Eat as much as you want,” he advised, grinning as he pointed to a button. “This one doubles the portion.” Klamarez watched as Clyden pressed the button on his own order, barely waiting for the text to fully appear on the screen.

“I can’t believe I skipped breakfast. I never skip breakfast!” Klamarez admitted, genuinely surprised.

“Skipped breakfast?” Clyden replied, looking at him with exaggerated shock.

“You just committed a crime in Clyden’s eyes,” Narm joked, grinning.

They settled into a corner table, joining several maintenance and engineering staff already seated. Clyden introduced Klamarez to the crew, and soon, Klamarez found himself leading the conversation, recounting his days working on a trade ship.

Identifying himself as more of a “tinkerer” or “improviser” than a formal engineer, Klamarez added with a shrug, “No formal training.” But his stories of engineering feats, especially the shield he’d built to protect Calio Landing, captivated the group.

For most RDF crew members, scavenging for parts was a foreign concept, contrasting sharply with their ready access to components. Hearing about Klamarez’s resourcefulness and the lengths he went to source parts left them feeling they had it easy. To them, engineering was just a job; for Klamarez, it was clearly a passion—and they respected that.

Amidst the lively mess hall atmosphere, Conus entered, immediately drawn to the animated conversation at Klamarez’s table. Seeing Klamarez at ease, thoroughly enjoying himself and engaging the crew with his stories, brought a contented smile to Conus’s face.

Conus had wrapped up a demanding morning with Colonel Jarek Nolvin an hour prior. They’d worked on a comprehensive report about Chiex, focusing on the Vorcon encounter. Nolvin seemed intent on probing into RSIA activities, but Conus kept to the Vorcon incident, steering clear of his mission’s broader details. After much back-and-forth, he managed to inform the RSIA of the situation and was relieved to hear a team would be sent to retrieve his fallen crew. Even now, he could feel Nolvin’s piercing gaze following him.

Selecting his meal, Conus chose a small table a few seats away from Klamarez and the others. Eating quietly, he tuned his enhanced hearing to their conversation, watching how effortlessly Klamarez fit in with the crew. As the mess hall gradually emptied and crew members returned to their duties, Klamarez noticed Conus nearby.

“Conus, how long have you been here?” he asked, surprised.

“Just about twenty-two minutes,” Conus replied.

“You should have joined us,” Klamarez said warmly.

Conus shrugged, accustomed to dining alone. “I didn’t want to intrude,” he replied.

After a brief hesitation, Conus moved his tray to Klamarez’s table. Their conversation soon deepened, shifting naturally to their experiences on trade ships.

“You really grew up on a trade freighter?” Klamarez asked, intrigued.

“Actually, a trade train freighter,” Conus clarified.

Klamarez’s eyes lit up. “Really? You don’t see those every day. How was it?” Trade trains were bulky ships with interconnected cargo containers, built for long trade routes.

“The ship was old, always breaking down,” Conus said. “My father cursed it every time a repair interrupted our run, but…” he trailed off, his expression growing distant. “I don’t remember much more than that.”

The nostalgia in Conus’s eyes faded, briefly replaced by a wince as he reached for a memory that wouldn’t fully surface. Klamarez noticed but let it pass, sensing the complexity of Conus’s augmented memories.

Klamarez’s gaze softened as he wondered what Conus’s augmentations might have preserved or altered in his memories. He held his questions, understanding that some things were best revealed in their own time.

Garen entered the mess hall, grabbed a cup from a nearby dispenser, filled it with coffee, and took a sip as he spotted Conus and Klamarez nearby.

Klamarez looked up with a smile as Garen approached. “Was wondering where you’d been,” he remarked.

Garen nodded, settling into a seat beside them. “I was caught up with General Maylone,” he replied, adding with a hint of weariness, “What have the two of you been up to?”

“I had my hands full with Colonel Nolvin,” Conus said.

“That must have been fun,” Klamarez replied dryly.

“He was really pressing me for information,” Conus continued, frustration evident in his voice.

“About the incident at Chiex?” Garen asked, glancing between them.

“More about the RSIA,” Conus replied.

Klamarez frowned. “Human politics are more complicated than I’d like.”

Garen sighed, casting a wary glance around the room. “Let’s save this for later, away from prying ears.” He didn’t see anything overtly suspicious, but caution remained etched in his expression.

Conus and Klamarez nodded in agreement. After the probing conversation with Colonel Nolvin, Conus was more than willing to hold off discussing anything further. His perspective on their stay aboard the Resilience had shifted subtly.

“So, what’s our next move?” Klamarez asked, eager to shift the subject.

“I’ve been in touch with the RSIA,” Conus replied. “They want us to proceed with our mission using the Seeker.”

Garen nodded slowly. “I thought they might send another ship, but if it’s the Seeker, that works for me.” Leaning forward, his expression turned serious. “I think it’s best if we depart sooner rather than later.”

“I got that impression too,” Conus added, sharing a quick look with Garen.

Garen nodded again, relieved that Conus was on the same page. “Are you alright with this plan, Klamarez?” he asked. “Taking us the rest of the way in the Seeker?”

Klamarez nodded, though a hint of concern shadowed his expression. “I am, but the Seeker needs a thorough look-over. I’ll need some time. Those hits from the last engagement might’ve caused more damage than we realize. Should we still go to Eteren One as planned?”

Conus interjected, “My contact at the RSIA also suggested we visit Eteren One for any necessary repairs.”

“Alright,” Garen agreed.

Klamarez’s eyes lit up. “Great idea.”

Conus reassured him, “The RSIA has allocated funds for your ship’s repairs. It should cover any parts you need at the station.”

Klamarez’s eyes widened in surprise. “They’re providing funds for the repairs?”

“Yes,” Conus confirmed.

Standing up decisively, Klamarez exclaimed, “Let’s get those parts, then!”

Garen chuckled at Klamarez’s enthusiasm as they all stood and began to leave the mess hall.

“I should contact General Maylone and inform her of our plan to depart now,” Garen remarked.

“Protocol is indeed important on this ship,” Klamarez agreed with a nod.

As they exited the mess hall, they unexpectedly encountered General Maylone herself.

“I was just about to contact you, General Maylone,” Garen said.

“Oh?” she replied, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

“I wanted to inform you that we plan to depart immediately,” Garen explained.

“Excellent timing,” General Maylone replied, her tone cool and slightly impatient. “We’re about to start sector patrols as a show of force against the Vorcons. It might be some time before we return.”

“Thank you for all your assistance, General Maylone. We’re grateful. We’ll gather our things and be on our way,” Garen assured her.

General Maylone nodded. “The maintenance crew in the hangar bay is ready for your departure.” Her polite demeanor held a subtle edge of urgency—a clear indication she wanted them off the ship without delay.

After brief farewells, the group returned to their quarters quickly, sensing the unspoken pressure to leave promptly. Once ready, they reconvened in the hangar bay, where the Seeker awaited them.

Clyden, Cel, and Narm were there to see them off. Klamarez took a moment to introduce everyone, and Clyden offered one last piece of advice. “I’ve identified several vendors on Eteren One that sell components,” he said, shaking Klamarez’s hand firmly.

“Thanks, Clyden,” Klamarez replied, genuinely appreciative.

With final nods and goodbyes, they boarded the Seeker, each taking their stations. Garen moved to the pilot’s seat, Conus took the TRACE station, and Klamarez ensured all systems were operational before securing the entrance hatch and seating himself at the communications console.

The ship came to life, a steady, reassuring vibration coursing through the hull.

“All systems operational,” Klamarez announced, checking the readouts.

“Ready for departure,” Garen echoed, glancing at both Klamarez and Conus.

As the Seeker’s thrusters engaged, the ship lifted smoothly off the hangar floor. Garen guided it as the energy barrier activated and the hangar bay doors opened, transitioning the vessel from the hangar’s controlled environment into the vast openness of space.

The stars stretched out before them, and in the distance, Eteren One Star Base loomed against the darkness.

The crew fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in thought as the Seeker slipped into the flow of nearby vessels, weaving among trade ships and RDF patrols en route to Eteren One. Behind them, the Resilience faded from view, along with the tensions of their recent stay. The airspace around the starbase filled with activity as they approached, docking beacons flickering, guiding them toward approach paths.