CHAPTER 5.

Garen and Conus stood in silence after knocking on the rusted, peeling door of the rundown house. The knock echoed through the clearing they had just emerged from. A security camera above the door tracked their movements as they scanned the tree line and sky, finding no signs of hostiles. Though the sun had fully risen, its light was already fading behind the gathering clouds.

The clearing, more exposed than the dense woods surrounding Garen’s cabin, was overgrown with wild grass and scattered debris. In the distance, the faint roar of a waterfall echoed.

Behind the cabin, the land sloped sharply toward a cliff's edge. Beyond that, mountains stretched out, their rounded peaks blanketed in thick forest. The clearing felt exposed, vulnerable.

Garen knocked again. Where are you? Has something happened? Is there danger at Calio Landing?

Through his augmented eye, Conus spotted more cameras hidden among the debris. Why all the security?

Moments later, footsteps sounded from within, followed by the clatter of locks turning. The door creaked open with a long, drawn-out squeak.

Klamarez appeared in the doorway, his light-green pupils dilating as he took in Garen and Conus. Dressed in faded blue coveralls with brown straps and a utility belt full of tools, a compact sidearm was holstered at his hip. His fur was a blend of brown, white, and subtle orange.

“Quick, get in!” he urged, his pointed ears twitching as he scanned the clearing behind them.

Garen and Conus stepped inside without hesitation as Klamarez locked the door behind them. The interior was cluttered with components and half-assembled gadgets. Klamarez’s gaze lingered on Conus’s RDF uniform, briefly noting the insignia of his rank and the augments that covered much of him, but his attention shifted to more pressing matters.

“Garen, why is the RDF here?” Klamarez asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

His gaze settled on Conus, who offered an awkward smile under the scrutiny.

“They came looking for me,” Garen replied simply.

“They?” Klamarez’s ears twitched. “You’re saying there’s more?”

“There was,” Garen said.

Klamarez nodded slowly, the realization sinking in. His ears lowered, and his eyes narrowed. Can’t we ever have peace? This kind of trouble was the last thing he’d expected on this remote world.

He exhaled deeply. “Last night, I detected signals from an RDF ship, followed by three Vorcon transports.”

“Three?” Conus couldn’t hide his disbelief. How did we miss it? He was in command. The failure was his. “We didn’t detect any ships on our approach,” he admitted.

“They came in from the far side of the planet, staying low until they neared your landing site. Their signatures were masked—detectable, but only if you knew what to look for. It’s an old trick,” Klamarez said, his tone almost instructional. Suddenly, memories of the Grand Vorcon Imperial Force flashed through his mind—ships blotting out the skies of his homeworld.

“I didn’t intend for this,” Conus said. The failure to spot the ships nagged at the back of his mind. They died because I missed it.

“I get it,” Klamarez replied, his tone softening before frustration returned. “But make no mistake—we don’t want the RDF here either.” He shook his head.

Conus raised his brows, genuinely puzzled. “Why not? The RDF liberated your homeworld,” he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

Garen rubbed the back of his neck, well aware of Klamarez’s strong feelings on the subject.

Klamarez didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on Conus, unreadable. Young and naïve, he thought. The Seven Worlds fill their heads with tales of heroics, but the struggle doesn’t end when the battle is won. When the day is saved.

Turning back to Garen, Klamarez asked, “What exactly happened? Did they come for you? The Vorcons?”

Garen detailed everything: Conus’s unexpected arrival, the marines' deaths, the RDF transport’s destruction, and the brutal encounter with the Vorcon soldiers.

As the story unfolded, Klamarez felt a long-buried fear stir within him, one he hadn’t felt in years. His ears twitched involuntarily. “It’s worse than I thought.”

The gravity of the situation deepened. Could this remote world of Chiex suddenly be the spark of a new conflict between the Seven Worlds and the Vorcon Empire? He dreaded what might come next.

“Is Calio Landing secure?” Garen asked.

“Yes,” Klamarez replied. “The settlement’s on lockdown, and as far as I know, everyone from the outskirts has already made it there. The shield is fully operational.”

“That’s good to hear,” Garen said, feeling a brief sense of relief.

“I tried to warn you too, Garen, but you never answered,” Klamarez added.

“I got the message, but it was garbled. I was going to bring it to you to fix. It’s been acting up again,” Garen said, then let out a quick, hollow laugh. “Not that it matters much now.” His expression betrayed anything but amusement.

With the discussion of communication still lingering, Conus saw an opportunity.

Conus turned to Klamarez. “Do you know of any way to send out a long-range communication?”

"Only from Calio Landing, but it's too risky," Klamarez replied. "Going there would put the settlement in danger."

"We could relay a message from here," Conus suggested.

Garen shot him a sharp look. "We’ve been over this. And if there are at least three troop transports, I’d bet there's a bigger ship out there. They’d pick up the signal."

Klamarez nodded in agreement. "We can't risk involving the settlement."

Conus absorbed their words. His gaze drifted around Klamarez's home. From the outside, it looked like it could collapse at any moment, but the inside had reinforced walls, braced structures, crammed with tech, wires, and half-assembled gadgets. His augmented eye flickered, identifying tech from dozens of worlds scattered across every surface.

Conus couldn’t fathom how anyone could live or work in such disarray.

"If you don’t check in on time, Colonel, protocol says they’ll send someone to look for you," Garen said, breaking the silence.

"That’s true," Conus replied. He wasn’t convinced anyone would be looking for him anytime soon. The RDF didn’t even know about the mission, and the RSIA was already stretched thin with multiple operations. No one was coming—not anytime soon.

Garen shifted, concern edging into his voice. "Why didn’t you head for the spaceport when you saw the ships?" he asked Klamarez.

Klamarez sighed, his ears twitching slightly. "I had a feeling you'd show up here. I knew it had something to do with you. Don’t take it the wrong way, Garen—I’m not blaming you."

I should’ve picked somewhere more isolated, Garen thought. "Thanks for taking us in, even with the risk," he said, his thoughts drifting to the Camerians at Calio Landing. Absentmindedly, he scratched his beard. "The shields—they’ll hold, right?"

"They’ll hold," Klamarez assured him.

Curiosity got the better of Conus. "What exactly do you do at Calio Landing? Did you build the shields?" he asked.

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Garen sighed quietly. Here we go. He knew Klamarez well enough to expect a long explanation whenever his work came up.

Klamarez’s face brightened, his fangs briefly visible as he smiled. "What don’t I do?" he said with a grin. "One of my first major jobs was setting up sensors in the mountains. The view from up there? Absolutely breathtaking."

"Sensors for orbital traffic?" Conus asked, intrigued.

"Exactly," Klamarez nodded. "They link up with an orbital satellite and send signals straight to the spaceport. Early warnings, so we know when ships are inbound."

"That’s impressive," Conus said, leaning in with interest.

Klamarez’s grin widened. "I thought so too. I even routed the signals here so I can keep an eye on things myself. Perks of building the system."

"No one can trace that signal back to you?" Conus asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Like the Vorcons?" Klamarez smirked. "Not a chance. It’s encrypted."

“So you track all incoming traffic?” Conus asked, glancing around. Where are the computer systems? he wondered.

"Exactly, Some might call it nosy, but I prefer to stay informed. If a trade ship’s coming in, I like to have the first look at whatever they’re hauling. And if something breaks down? Even better—I can trade repairs for the parts I need." He leaned back. "I handle upgrades, repairs, general maintenance at the spaceport. You name it. I’m not officially on the payroll—just contract work. I leave the small stuff to others. When something big needs fixing, they call me."

"And it pays well?" Conus asked.

Klamarez smiled, nodding. "Oh, it pays well enough, but I’m probably too fair for my own good. Most of what I earn goes right back into parts. Still, every now and then, I splurge a little," he said with a chuckle, patting his belly. "Calio Landing always has something that needs fixing, so I stay busy."

"What about the shield generator?" Conus inquired.

Garen rubbed the back of his neck, already sensing where the conversation was headed. "Let’s not get too deep into this..."

But Klamarez's eyes lit up. "Ah, the shield generator! That was a major project—one of my proudest. Getting all the parts together wasn’t easy, but I managed. Calio Landing isn’t just a spaceport; it’s the heart of the Camerian community here on Chiex."

"I can see why you’d be proud of it," Conus said.

Klamarez nodded. "When trouble comes, everyone heads to the spaceport. We’ve had raiders pass through before—nothing too serious, thankfully. But with the underground bunker and the shield system up and running, as long as we’ve got power, we can hold off orbital bombardments and ground assaults."

His voice trailed off, his expression darkening as memories of his homeworld surfaced. If only we had a shield like that back then.

Garen, growing impatient, interrupted. "Now’s really not the time for this, Klamarez."

"Oh." Klamarez snapped back to the present.

"Sorry, General," Conus quickly apologized.

"General?" Klamarez tilted his head slightly.

"I need your help," Garen admitted, his voice heavy.

Klamarez exhaled deeply. "I'll help however I can. We need a plan. You both can stay here for now."

"Thanks, Klamarez. But I didn’t come here to hide."

Klamarez’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing there was more to Garen's words. What’s he really after?

Without a word, Klamarez led them through the cluttered space to a small kitchen. As they moved aside scattered equipment, he busied himself with his overly complex coffee setup—tubes, vats, and pots far too elaborate for simple brewing. Soon, the inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

“Smells great,” Garen remarked.

Finally, mugs of steaming coffee were placed before them.

“I never thought they’d come after me directly,” Garen said, disbelief edging his voice. Why now? And why just as the RDF showed up?

Klamarez’s expression tightened. “Targeting a retired general is concerning. Makes you wonder—what else are they willing to do? Could this be happening elsewhere?” His mind raced with possibilities. His dealings with the Vorcons had shown just how ruthless they could be.

“It’s hard to say,” Garen replied, his voice heavy. “But I’ve got a feeling this is just the beginning.”

Conus nodded grimly. “Reports say the Vorcon Empire has fully rebuilt the GVIF.”

“And we let it happen,” Garen muttered bitterly.

“They must’ve figured out where you were,” Conus noted.

“Plenty knew I was on Chiex,” Garen admitted.

Klamarez tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “What does Admiral Lavont want? Are you thinking about going back to the fleet?” He remembered Garen’s drunken vows never to return. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him.

Garen gave a faint smile. “No, I’m not going back to the fleet. That hasn’t changed. But I can’t ignore this threat. They came for me here, of all places. Staying puts this world at risk. I need to draw the Vorcons away from Chiex. And for that, I need a ship.” His gaze fixed on Klamarez.

Klamarez stood, his hand tightening around his mug, claws extending slightly. “You’re not seriously thinking about using my ship, are you? It’s nowhere near ready.”

Conus, intrigued, interrupted. “Wait, you have a ship? What kind?” But his question went ignored.

“I’m running out of options, Klamarez,” Garen said calmly.

“Even so, the ship’s not ready. Not even close. I can’t—I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” Garen said calmly.

Klamarez dropped back into his chair with a long exhale.

Conus, still curious, repeated, “What kind of ship?”

Garen shot him a look that silenced any further questions.

They sat in uneasy silence for a moment, sipping their coffee.

With a heavy sigh, Klamarez leaned back. “Look, Garen, it’s not that I don’t want to help. I’d lend you the ship if I could, but…” He hesitated before continuing, “I owe the Vanicktus Syndicate a lot of money for the shield parts.”

Garen was caught off guard. "Klamarez..." he said softly, concern creeping into his voice.

Klamarez, sensing the need to explain, continued. “You know how it is out here. Resources are scarce, and the Syndicate was my only option for getting what I needed. Those materials were crucial for the shield at Calio Landing."

"How much do you owe?" Garen asked, concern clear in his tone.

Klamarez hesitated, then sighed. "A lot. Selling the ship might be my only way out. If the Syndicate finds out, they’ll try to claim it. But in its current state, it wouldn’t even cover my debt unless I finish it. I never built it for this... but that’s the reality now."

Garen shook his head, understanding the weight of the situation. "Dealing with the Vanicktus Syndicate is always a gamble. They’re ruthless."

"I know," Klamarez said, his expression darkening.

Conus leaned back, absorbing the conversation. The RSIA kept tabs on the Syndicate’s operations, and he’d heard stories—none of them reassuring.

“I needed those shield parts and was falling behind on the contract. I felt cornered, with no other choice,” Klamarez admitted.

“I’m sorry, Klamarez. I didn’t realize how deep this went for you.” Garen paused, then added, “But we still need a way out. The safety of many is at risk—it’s not just about me.”

Klamarez exhaled again, his mind slipping into deep contemplation.

Garen turned to Conus. "Any ideas, Colonel?"

Conus leaned forward, undeterred. "What if we hijack a Vorcon cruiser? We need a ship."

Garen raised an eyebrow, half-skeptical, half-intrigued. “You’re serious about this?”

“I’ve looked at the parts lying around,” Conus continued. “I think I can build an explosive strong enough to disable a group of Vorcons. If we lure one of their ships to a location and get them to chase us on the ground, we could potentially take control. All we need is to lead them into a trap and let the explosive do its job.”

Garen considered the risks. “It’s risky,” he admitted. The longer they waited, the more aggressive the Vorcons would become. Doing nothing wasn’t an option, though this plan seemed reckless with their limited resources. Still, in situations like this, brainstorming was essential, even if the plan wasn’t ideal.

As Garen and Conus discussed the details, Klamarez, after a moment of thought, rejoined the conversation. “I’ve been thinking… Taking my ship might actually be our best—maybe our only—real option,” he said, surprising them both. “After weighing the risks, I can’t just stand by while Calio Landing is in danger. Like you said, we need to draw the Vorcons away from Chiex. I’m ready to help make that happen.”

“Are you sure this is the path you want to take?” Garen asked.

Klamarez nodded firmly. “The well-being of others far outweighs my personal debt. I know what needs to be done. If something happens to the settlement and I could’ve stopped it… I couldn’t live with myself.”

“Thank you, Klamarez. I don’t want to put you at risk,” Garen said.

Klamarez stood, his voice steady. “I’ve faced danger before. But you should know—the ship isn’t perfect. Not all systems are operational, but I’ll get her flight-ready. Just enough to get us off Chiex and through a rift. She’s capable enough.”

Garen raised an eyebrow again, this time half-serious, half-amused. “I’ll pilot her, but just to be clear—are we sure she’ll actually take off?”

Klamarez gave a confident nod.

Conus, more concerned, asked, “What exactly does ‘capable enough’ mean?”

With a grin, the tips of his fangs visible, Klamarez’s ears twitched. “It means a few tweaks here and there, nothing major. She’ll work for what we need.”

“It’s not ideal,” Garen admitted, “but we’ve got a fighting chance.”

A familiar surge of excitement flickered inside him. It had been too long since he’d been in space, and the thought of flying again stirred something deep within.

“Where’s the ship?” Conus asked, still uncertain.

Klamarez pointed to the floor beneath them. Conus, using his augmented eye, detected the outline of a hidden door embedded in the flooring.