Chapter 22

Eteren One Orbital Starbase

Mottmor System, Venddral Raidezel Sector

Date: Zeran 20, Year 4731

In docking bay N-7, the Seeker rested, anchored on its three-pronged landing gear, its patchwork hull a welcome sight. The clang of their boots echoed as the trio ascended the entrance hatch and disappeared into the ship's interior, hoping they had seen the last of Kaelar and his crew.

Garen settled into the helm and activated the console. Controls blinked to life, display screens lighting up his face as the operating systems booted, progress bars sliding across each screen.

A soft breath escaped him, relief creeping in as he sank into the comforting fit of the worn seat.

Conus sat at his station as the system powered on, hesitated briefly, then stabilized. Deciding to dig into it further if it happened again—but for now, it seemed fine. The system appeared functional, and the priority was clear—leaving the station quickly. The last thing they needed was Klamarez distracted.

At the rear of the ship, Klamarez conducted a quick inspection of the engineering section. Nearby, a scattered collection of newly acquired parts from Eteren One awaited sorting—a task high on his priority list. He figured the journey to the Rhyus system would give him time to at least separate the parts into some type of system.

Satisfied for the moment, he activated the ship’s primary power. The Capture Reactor pulsed as it came to life, sending a gentle vibration through the deck. Power levels climbed steadily, lights flickered on across the ship, and a sequence of sounds echoed as the systems initialized, one by one. Everything appeared operational.

While the Seeker was, in many ways, a new ship, its appearance told a different story. Klamarez had begun work on it years earlier, shortly after arriving on Chiex. Pieced together from technology spanning every corner of the Karadolex Galaxy. Inside, open housing units remained exposed, awaiting additional parts. Loose wires dangled, ready to be connected.

As Klamarez sealed the ship’s hatch, it slid closed in a seamless motion before locking into place. His next stop was the communications station, where he entered a sequence into the console and leaned toward the microphone.

“Hello, E.T.D.A., requesting departure access,” he said, his attention half-focused on something else flashing across his screen.

“Please provide designated bay,” came the clipped, synthetic response over the ship’s speakers.

Klamarez flinched, startled by the prompt reply. “Right, Docking bay N-7,” he said, recovering quickly.

A brief pause followed before the reply came, “Docking bay N-7, departure access granted. We hope you have enjoyed your stay at Eteren One Orbital. Thank you for your business. We hope to see you again in the future. Stay safe!”

“You too.’ Klamarez winced, then shrugged at his own awkwardness, a quiet laugh escaping him.

“This is an automated response. Docking bay N-7, departure access granted,” the system repeated in its monotone. Klamarez quickly cut the line before it could loop again.

The heavy hangar doors groaned open, interlinking bars rolling as they slid apart. An energy barrier stretched across the docking bay’s threshold as the doors fully retracted.

The Seeker rumbled as its thrusters engaged, steady vibrations rippling through the deck plates. Garen nudged the controls, smoothly lifting the ship off the deck. The thrusters held steady, propelling the vessel forward. It drifted through the hangar’s energy barrier, the field briefly enveloping the ship before sealing behind it. Now free, the Seeker glided into open space.

The emerald planet Eteren emerged, its vast grasslands broken by deep blue oceans. Along the coastlines, streaks of green blended into the turquoise shallows, where sea and land intertwined. Beyond the planet, Eteren’s moons stood out against the darkness, and further still, the star-filled void of space stretched endlessly beyond.

Traffic around Eteren One was dense, with outgoing vessels creating a bottleneck that slowed their departure. Freighters lumbered ahead while smaller shuttles darted between them. Garen activated the Velocity sublight engines, keeping their output low as the Seeker followed the station’s beacon path—a trail of guiding lights designed to impose order. The landing gear retracted with a faint thud.

The Seeker’s patched silver hull continued forward, its dark orange stripe marking its path. After waiting their turn in the exit lane, they finally broke free. The area remained busy, ships crisscrossing in orderly patterns as they entered and exited the traffic lanes.

The Seeker slipped beneath a long, narrow passenger liner. Several shuttles detached from the larger vessel, aligning with the station’s approach lanes. Once clear of the congestion, Garen gradually increased power to the sublight engines. The Verta engines fired in synchronized bursts, propelling the Seeker forward.

At the communications station, Klamarez leaned back, his eyes on one of the auxiliary screens displaying a full readout of the ship’s power levels. His boots firmly planted on the deck, he monitored the subtle vibrations underfoot—a habit any seasoned engineer would recognize.

Satisfied, he turned his attention to the open comm channels, where the faint chatter of routine flight reports and cargo exchanges settled softly in the cockpit’s background.

“I’ll feel better once we’re out of this system,” Klamarez said, eager to leave their run-in with the Vanicktus Syndicate behind them.

“You and me both,” Garen replied, his tone heavy with fatigue. “Nothing but trouble here. If I ever make it back to Chiex, I’ll steer clear of this system on the way. Or at least, I’ll be better prepared.”

Klamarez offered a faint smile. “You’ve still got a home there, i think you will make it back once this is over with.” he said.

Garen regretted he had brought it up at all, not wanting to explain further.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Klamarez. He knew Garen well enough to see when something was weighing on him.

While Garen had mostly kept to himself on Chiex, he wasn’t entirely a stranger to Calio Landing. Whether he admitted it or not, he had become part of that community—though his unfortunate circumstances now made it impossible for him to return, not without the risk of putting others in danger.

Calio landing was one of many colonies that had become a second chance for Camerians—a place to rebuild, a fragile hope for the continuation of their culture. Klamarez took pride in what it had grown into.

“Did something else happen?” Klamarez asked.

“I did have a home there, Klamarez,” Garen said softly, his tone plain and honest—not meant to dramatize, just to state the truth. “Not anymore.” Resignation colored his voice, mirroring the distant look in his eyes as they lingered on the stars. The Seeker moved steadily through the Mottmor system.

“What do you mean?” Klamarez asked, turning his attention from his console.

Conus looked up as well, the comment catching his attention. Ever since he’d shown up on Chiex, nothing had gone right for any of them. It wasn’t his fault—he knew that—but the guilt came anyway. Am I bad luck?

Garen hesitated. Since the RIAB visit, he’d shared most of what Lieutenant Colonel Syla and Major Hanth had revealed, recounting only what he thought Klamarez and Conus needed to know or what was important at the time.

“My cabin. The Vorcons destroyed it. Completely,” he said at last, his voice calm, absent of any emotion.

"Klamarez’s ears twitched slightly. “I’m sorry, Garen,” he said quietly. He opened his mouth to say more but paused, unsure of what words might be appropriate."

“It was just a cabin,” Garen replied, dismissing the significance. But no one aboard the Seeker believed him—not even Garen himself.

“I’m sorry, General.” Conus hesitated, glancing at Garen before continuing. “The RIAB... they told you this?”

Conus, perhaps more than anyone, understood the weight of such a loss. He knew too well what it was like to lose everything—even if his memories of what he’d lost were fragmented and incomplete.

“Thanks, Colonel,” Garen said. It wasn’t about the possessions—though he’d miss a few books. It was the finality. Once this was over, where would he go? What would he do? Settling back down on Rhyus wasn’t an option; of that, he was certain. “Yes, they told me.”

Garen gave Conus a brief recap of what the RIAB had told him about his cabin. Conus’s concern showed plainly on his face, but there was little he could do about it now. The RIAB’s involvement here was troubling—well beyond their jurisdiction. Conus knew he would need to bring this to General Anteia and Admiral Lavont’s attention once they reached Rhyus.

For now, Conus pushed the troubling thoughts aside. The RIAB’s actions would be investigated when the time was right. Instead, he focused on the task at hand.

“You increased engine efficiency, Klamarez?” his attention shifting briefly toward him.

Klamarez shrugged lightly. “A little bit.”

Conus’s augmented eye adjusted, refocusing as it scanned the data streaming across the console. Lines of text scrolled rapidly, the calculations aligning perfectly with his own. “91.1 to 92.5 percent? That’s more than marginal.”

“Impressive,” Garen said, glancing back briefly from the helm. “We need every edge we can get. I’d rather avoid a fight if possible. If I’m using those turrets, we’re in big trouble.”

The Seeker’s light turrets were no match for shielded targets, making evasion their best option.

To Garen, ships were never just machines—they carried memories. They were companions. His first Verta fighter still lingered in his mind. The sting of watching it scrapped. Back in the early days of the war, Garen had been unstoppable in his Verta craft—or at least, it had felt that way. He’d refused to fly anything else, even when it desperately needed repairs.

His first full command, the frigate Warpstar, had been an assignment he’d initially resisted. Garen’s career had begun aboard the capital battlecruiser Riftkin, where he worked his way up to executive officer. When his promotion to General finally came, he’d hoped to inherit command of the Riftkin itself from Amar Lavont, who was General at the time.

Over time, however, the Warpstar grew on him. When the time came to hand over its command, the loss lingered far longer than he anticipated. Moving on had only been made easier by gaining command of the Riftkin in return.

But the Riftkin—that loss cut the deepest. Even now, it still stung.

Garen leaned back slightly in his chair. For a moment, he wondered what might have happened if he’d bought a ship of his own when he retired from the RDF. Instead of choosing the quiet, remote life he had, maybe he could have run cargo or just explored the galaxy, instead of staying in one place for so long.

He caught sight of an unfamiliar indicator that flashed occasionally. “I just noticed another button activated here.” He turned toward Klamarez. “You got the third engine online?”

Klamarez grinned, his sharp fangs flashing as though he’d been waiting for Garen to notice. “It’s designed for short bursts,” he said. “When we need just a little extra boost.”

The Seeker’s primary engines—salvaged Verta fighter models—had undergone significant overhauls. Far from intact when Klamarez acquired them, they’d cost him more than he’d wanted to spend, even in their battered condition. Assembling them had required patience and a slow accumulation of parts—far from the standard blueprint for a Verta engine. To top it off, he’d added a third: an Omprel racing engine, a smaller unit positioned between the two Verta engines. Designed for bursts of speed rather than sustained use.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“If the numbers are right—well, if the computer’s numbers are right,” he corrected, “The Seeker can hit 92.8 for a short burst,” Klamarez said, holding up his PDA.

Conus, already running his own simulations, glanced up. Numbers scrolled rapidly across one of his auxiliary screens as his augmented eye blinked faintly, cross-referencing calculations. “That doesn’t look right to me,” he said, turning toward Klamarez.

Klamarez’s grin faltered slightly. “No?” he asked, his tone cautious, as if bracing for bad news.

“Looks more like 93.0 Cap to me,” Conus replied confidently. “And with a few adjustments, I think you could push it even higher.”

“Really?” Klamarez’s grin returned, broader this time. “Well, I don’t mind being wrong sometimes. How much higher are we talking?”

“Maybe 0.4 percent,” Conus murmured, his eyes glued to the data. “Not certain—too many factors—but it’s worth exploring.”

“Point four? Really?” Klamarez said, glancing back at the ship’s engineering section just behind them, as if admiring it.

“You’ve been busy,” Garen cast a quick glance over his shoulder before refocusing on the helm, with a faint smile.

Klamarez had made good use of their time on Eteren One, replacing parts and fine-tuning systems. Among his accomplishments was activating the experimental Rift Redirector.

Garen increased the ship’s velocity, carving a swift path through the Mottmor system. Their immediate objective was clear: reach the system’s boundary, open a rift, and begin the journey to Rhyus—a route that demanded navigating a sequence of interdimensional rifts to reach their final destination.

“Klamarez, power up the IRD,” Garen commanded. “We’ll be in safe distance soon.”

Klamarez nodded and activated the Interdimensional Rift Drive. He double-checked the readings as the power levels began a steady climb. Despite trusting the IRD’s functionality, the memory of the burnout incident above Chiex kept him cautious. He went over the data one last time. “It should be ready in just a moment, Garen.”

“Colonel, any contacts?” Garen asked.

"TRACE is clear," Conus reported but then hesitated. "Wait. Something’s here... faint. This doesn’t look right." He adjusted the scan, his frown deepening. “There’s definitely something nearby.”

“Something?” Garen’s tone sharpened, his focus narrowing, his grip tighter. “I’d like more details than that.”

Conus had a puzzled look, his irritation creeping into his voice as he continued working. “What’s with this thing? We’re being pursued. It’s a crude cloak—I wouldn’t even call it that. More like a signal deflector.” Tilting his head slightly, he added, “We should have picked this up. There’s an issue with the Seeker’s long-range sensor array. Klamarez, we’re going to need to refine it.”

“It should be working fine,” Klamarez replied, pulling out his PDA and scrolling through his notes.

Garen cut in before Klamarez could respond further. “We’ll deal with that later. Focus. What can you tell me? What are we looking at?”

“I’m running some scans,” Conus said, trying to get more information.

“Anything on the RearFeed by chance?” Garen asked doubtful.

Conus toggled additional views while simultaneously trying to refine the TRACE array. Pinpointing ships on external camera feeds without solid sensor data was tedious—nearly impossible depending on the distance. His scan finally completed, offering just enough data for a vague idea.

“No luck on the RearFeed, but I’ve completed an additional scan. Looks like it’s a small assault cruiser, if I had to guess,” he said after a moment.

“The Vanicktus Syndicate,” Klamarez said darkly, his eyes fixed on the rear camera feed, which showed nothing but open space. Though the screen was empty, he stared at it intently, as if willing something to materialize.

“I’d bet on that,” Garen said.

“They probably have ships lying in wait all over the system,” Conus added.

“I shouldn’t have let this happen,” Klamarez spoke softly, his voice heavy with guilt.

Garen shot him a sharp look over his shoulder. “I need you focused, Klamarez. We might need that new system.” Following it up with a quick smile.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Klamarez nodded sharply. “Right!”

“What are we looking at for weapons, Conus? What are they packing?” Garen asked.

“I’m unable to determine that yet General,” Conus replied, shaking his head.

“You said the main shields are operational?” Garen pressed.

“Yes, Garen,” Klamarez confirmed.

“Bring them online.”

“Shields online, full power” Klamarez replied firmly.

“Any new information, Colonel? Anything might help,” Garen asked, his tone even but tense.

“I might be able to get more data once they get closer,” Conus replied. “I can’t get a clear reading. I’ll need to re calibrate the array. My options are limited.”

“Wait!” Klamarez interjected abruptly, jumping out of his seat, crossing the short distance between stations. He knelt beside the TRACE console, prying open the computer housing near the floor and pulling out two circuit boards.

“Klamarez! TRACE is down!” Conus’s voice rose through the cabin. He threw up his hands. “Why now?!”

“I just remembered—I meant to replace the main processor. It’s faulty, along with one of the secondary calculation chips,” Klamarez replied, his tone annoyingly calm given the situation. “I found upgrades on Eteren.” His nonchalant delivery, as though there were no pressing urgency, grated on Conus but carried an odd calming effect—almost enough to make the absurdity of it amusing, causing Conus to relax just a little.

“You think this is the best time for that, Klamarez?” Garen shot back. “At least before, we knew something was out there. Now we’re flying blind.”

“You can still see what’s in front of you,” Klamarez said with a shrug.

“Klamarez,” Garen muttered, his tone heavy with warning.

“Trust me. Besides, if anything gets too close, the main proximity sensors will pick it up,” Klamarez replied.

“All right,” Garen said, focused on the urgency of the moment.

Klamarez moved to a crate near the rear of the cabin, rummaging through the replacement components.

“This is tech from everywhere,” Conus remarked, leaning over the open panel, looking in and marveling at the mishmash of parts. “I’m surprised it works at all.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Klamarez said, tossing parts aside as he searched. At last, he pulled out the necessary replacements and returned to Conus’s station. Kneeling, he snapped the new chips into place. Sealing the housing, he stood and flashed Conus a wide grin, the tips of his fangs peeking out.

“Done,” he declared. “Well? Fire it back up!”

Conus slid into his seat and initiated the reboot sequence. The system sluggishly powered on, the TRACE display flickering before stabilizing and flaring to full brightness. “They’re nearly on top of us!" He snapped. "Almost in weapons range!”

With the TRACE system restored, the contact resolved on the display and rear camera feed, now pinpointed—a small assault cruiser, just as Conus had suspected. Its angular design emerged clearly on one of the forward screens.

“YND-class,” Conus identified. A common ship model used by the Loquar and the Vanicktus Syndicate. “Crew of four to six. Built for system-only operations—no IRD, but high velocity. Their weapons are online.” He cross-referenced the data on the Seeker’s system, searching for any relevant details about the craft.

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Klamarez remarked, though his ears twitched nervously.

“They’ve got an Olsirek Blaast!” Conus warned, as he worked to run another scan. “And they’re almost in range!”

“Well, I don’t like that,” Klamarez admitted. His ears flopped.

The Olsirek Blaast wasn’t designed for destruction but disruption. A weapon capable of disabling a ship’s critical systems without causing lasting physical damage, it left vessels adrift and vulnerable to boarding or salvage.

“That’s a small ship for a weapon like that,” Garen said, his tone contemplative.

“I’d bet their installation wouldn’t meet my standards,” Klamarez replied, shaking his head dismissively.

"I think that ship’s sole purpose is to disable other vessels," Conus suggested.

Garen’s gaze shifted to the button for the third engine, its presence daring him to act. “Klamarez, that third engine—are you sure it’s ready?”

“Yes!” Klamarez answered, his eyes wide. “Field test time!”

Garen’s finger hovered over the activation switch for a moment. What’s the worst that could happen? he thought. With a sharp exhale, he slammed it down.

The Seeker jolted as the third engine roared to life, rattling the deckplates. The sudden burst of speed widened the gap between them and their pursuer, the trailing ship shrinking on the rear feed. Moments later, the third engine powered down, leaving the Seeker to settle back to its standard velocity on the two main engines.

Garen’s eyes caught on the recharge bar displayed for the third engine. “Looks like it needs time to recharge.”

“Garen, didn’t you listen to me? Short bursts only,” Klamarez chided, a mix of exasperation and amusement in his tone.

“We’ve bought some time,” Conus interjected, his focus fixed on the TRACE display. “But they’ll be back in weapons range soon. We need to open a rift fast. It’s going to be close—real close.”

“The last thing I want is to take a hit while entering a rift,” Garen said.

“I’m not sure what other choice we have, General,” Conus replied.

“The Rift Redirector!” Klamarez suddenly exclaimed. “It’ll work.”

“You’re sure?” Garen asked, throwing a sharp glance over his shoulder.

“Sure enough!” Klamarez replied, his confidence unshaken.

“Colonel?” Garen turned to Conus, seeking his input.

Conus hesitated, before finally nodding. “I think we should trust Klamarez.”

Klamarez could barely stay still with excitement.

“Alright, Klamarez. Get it ready,” Garen commanded.

“It just needs to finish charging—almost there,” Klamarez said, his eyes fixed on the Redirector’s charge indicator as it inched toward completion.

Conus’s attention snapped back to the sensors. “Another ship of the same make just appeared on long-range sensors,” he reported. “It’s got a utility craft with it—probably something to haul us in.”

“Great,” Garen muttered under his breath.

“Were running out of time,” Conus warned, as he tracked the advancing cruiser.

“Just a moment—it’s almost ready,” Klamarez said, his eyes glued to the charging bar.

“Any closer, and their Olsirek Blaast will be in range,” Conus cautioned sharply.

“Come on, come on,” Garen muttered under his breath.

“Now!” Klamarez shouted.

Garen didn’t hesitate. He threw the Seeker into a sharp spin, pivoting the ship to face the trailing cruiser. At the same instant, the enemy fired their Olsirek Blaast, seeming to send the ship backward as it fired—a massive pulse of energy streaking toward them in a wave.

The Seeker’s forward deflection array activated. From the domed section at the ship’s nose, a spherical drone shot forward, crackling with power. Its emitters projected a lattice of blue energy outward, the net expanding rapidly to intercept the Olsirek Blaast. The impact was absorbed entirely, sparks erupting as the drone’s surface darkened. Its energy field rippled under the strain before dimming and falling lifeless, its purpose fulfilled.

“They’re recharging their Olsirek Blaast,” Conus reported. “We’ve got a few moments before they can fire again.”

“That’s all we need,” Garen replied.

The assault cruiser came into sharper view—a wedge-like frame reinforced with overlapping armor plates. Two curved, fin-like structures jutted from its sides, each housing a heavy turret array. Beneath its ventral surface, the oversized Olsirek Blaast weapon sat, seeming both out of place and imposing at the same time.

Bolts of energy erupted from the cruiser’s heavy turrets, streaking toward the Seeker in volleys. The shields flared under the barrage, absorbing wave after wave of firepower.

Garen moved with the ship, weaving the Seeker through the onslaught in a desperate attempt to minimize the impact. His hands moved instinctively, the ship reacting flawlessly.

“The shields are holding!” Conus called out.

Garen’s eyes stayed locked on the displays. “Brace yourselves,” he ordered, his voice steady as he angled the Seeker closer to the cruiser.

As the distance closed, Klamarez activated the Rift Redirector. A swirling vortex of unstable energy erupted just ahead and slightly to the Seeker’s port side, directly in the enemy ship’s path. The rift tore into space with violent force, its edges pulsating with fractured light. The swirling energy churned unpredictably.

The enemy vessel, locked into its trajectory, had no time to adjust. It barreled headlong into the Interdimensional Rift, which swallowed it in a torrent of unstable energy. The rift pulsed violently before snapping shut, leaving behind nothing but empty space.

“Klamarez! It worked!” Conus exclaimed with disbelief.

Garen swung the Seeker back around, locking onto the dormant drone now drifting nearby. The ship’s magnetic retrieval system latched onto the device, pulling it securely back to the hull where it had come from.

“Not bad,” Garen said, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Klamarez, where’s that rift lead?”

Klamarez shrugged, his expression unreadable. “I’m… not entirely sure.”

Garen barked a sharp laugh, shaking his head.

He throttled the engines and activated the ship's Interdimensional Rift Drive (IRD), which synchronized with the Navcon to plot a safe path, propelling the ship toward the forming rift.

“Let’s get out of this system,” Garen declared.

With a final burst of speed, the Seeker surged forward toward the rift, beginning its Journey to the Rhyus System.