Oath of the Survivor

“That was scary!  Why would you say something like that?  It’s just rude!”

It had taken far longer than it should have to calm the goblin, who Kyle now realized was younger than she seemed, lacking a lot of world experience.  Moreover, Kyle also realized the impact his presence had made on others.  Despite everything he’d been through, he found himself still holding onto the notion that all D Grades were somehow powerful, overwhelming existences.  It certainly wasn’t the case here. 

Themestra was a pure crafter, with no meaningful combat abilities whatsoever.  From what he could tell, she was still relatively early in the grade.  Her raw attributes were enough to bully around the other engineers she employed, but against somebody like Kyle she wouldn’t stand a chance.  According to Themestra, his threat was the single most dangerous moment of her life.  In hindsight, he could understand it.  Even though Rochelle was no slouch, if Kyle really wanted to hurt the little goblin he certainly could.  She looked up at him, snot dripping down her nose onto her leather coveralls.  Rochelle was also looking at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised.

“I’m not going to apologize for telling you what I’ve told Chester over a dozen times.”

“You could at least apologize for scaring me so bad.”

[IT WASN’T A PARTICULARLY GOOD DEMONSTRATION OF BEDSIDE MANNER, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle shot an annoyed glare at the drone.

“Threats aren’t supposed to be good bedside manner, C.H.A.D.D.”

Then he looked back at Themestra.

“And threats are supposed to be scary.  Otherwise they don’t carry much weight, do they?”

The goblin looked away, arms crossed.

“It was still rude.”

“And so is trying to manipulate me into letting you get a full breakdown of C.H.A.D.D.’s capabilities.  Your crafting skill is incredible, don’t get me wrong.  I just can’t trust that you’re going to work in our interests, so I’m not going to take the risk.  If you’re still willing to craft the new pack to specifications, I would be appreciative.  If not, we’ll find another solution.”

Themestra seemed to perk up a bit at the compliment on her skills.  Kyle wasn’t exaggerating, he would love to have her work with the materials to create the pack, if she could.  Still, it wasn’t worth the risk if she was holding a grudge.  Fortunately for Kyle and C.H.A.D.D., she seemed excited about the project.  She looked over the rough schematics Kyle had drawn, and in moments a three-dimensional model made entirely of mana was floating in front of her.

“No, this won’t work… What if I…” She sniffed, wiping her nose a sleeve, leaving a smudge of grease on her cheek.  “And the shape could use refining…”

She muttered to herself for another minute, seeming to get more engaged the longer she spent.  Finally, the floating model disappeared.  She looked up at Kyle. 

“I think this could still be an interesting project.  I know you wanted to have the rune work done around the same time, but I think it would make more sense to inscribe it after I’ve checked the fit.  It’ll take an extra day in that case, shouldn’t change your cost.”

“We can work with that.  We’ll be back later this evening.  Thank you, Themestra.”

“And no more threats!” Themestra shouted, indignation in her tone.

Despite himself, Kyle grinned.  “We’ll see.”

Leaving the hull material to the goblin, Kyle gathered C.H.A.D.D. and the cabling.  He and Rochelle were almost out the door when he heard Themestra call after him.

“Take this, too!”

Kyle turned and had to drop the cabling to catch the baton whirling in the air towards him.  He frowned at it, then looked back at her.

“It’s just going to add to the clutter down here.”

Kyle nodded his thanks, finished collecting his dropped materials, and headed towards the quartermaster.  The three of them walked in silence, nobody wanting to broach the subject of what had taken place in the engineering bay.  That was fine by Kyle, the whole situation had left a sour taste in his mouth.  At this point, he was counting down the days until he could collect his pay and be done with Corthian Mining. 

Some of the people were great.  Rochelle, Skippy, Duroc, and most of the expedition members were fun to be around.  Even though Benjamin was out of touch with how other people lived, Kyle enjoyed their conversations.  Hell, despite his bad first impression, even Randolph had also grown on Kyle.  He just couldn’t stand the politicking, secret agendas, and manipulation.  The sooner he was away from all of that, the better. 

If the engineering bay was cluttered chaos, the quartermaster’s office was precise machinery.  A seamless flow of people walked in, scanned their nav bracelets, and walked out.  There was barely time for people to stop, so Kyle was surprised when the quartermaster flagged for him to wait before handing over the bundle.

“Ah, Mr. Mayhew, sir.  I just wanted to offer a sincere apology.  We weren’t able to meet your special request with the time we had, but we hope that this will suffice for now.  I’m happy to offer an exchange if we get the desired pieces in.”

Kyle frowned. 

“So you don’t have the combat armor or weapon?”

“Not in the specified color, sir.  The closest we had was a slate grey, nothing in black.”

Rochelle tried, and failed, to stifle a chuckle.  Which quickly turned into a full-blown laugh.  The quartermaster looked confused, and he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

“This will be fine.  No trade-in necessary.”

“I see you already have another baton, would you like me to remove the one we provided?”

Kyle considered for a moment, before shaking his head.

“That won’t be necessary.  It never hurts to have a backup.”

Rochelle composed herself, and the two of them left the quartermaster shortly thereafter, the usual flow of traffic resuming.  With time to spare, they headed to the training grounds where they watched a handful of sparring matches between the E Grades.  While there were certainly some skilled individuals, nobody struck Kyle as being exceptionally talented.  Of course, relative to many of them, his technique in melee combat was still lacking.  He made up for it between his attributes and Adaptive Anatomy, but he simply hadn’t had the time to make his fighting style more than a band-aid before he got skills that made better use of his attributes.

This was one of the biggest challenges he’d come to grips with.  While he had some ideas on how to incorporate his skills using his basics as a foundation, Kyle had finally accepted that he’d never be a truly gifted melee fighter for his grade.  His monstrous Willpower and Intelligence were the source of his true power, complemented by the natural durability his Adaptive Anatomy offered.

“Are you okay, Kyle?”

Rochelle’s voice was softer than he’d heard it before, and he saw genuine concern in her grey eyes.  He offered a weak smile.

“I’ll be fine.  Just lost in thought.”

“You know, it’s not against protocol to just watch the matches and enjoy yourself.  It’s kind of the whole purpose of allowing spectators.”

The trio took a seat and watched sparring matches, with C.H.A.D.D. ensuring to record each.  With so many different fighting styles and skills on display, Kyle thought it would have been a waste not to.  He was just beginning to relax, when he got a ping on his nav bracelet.

You have been challenged to an exhibition match.

Kyle frowned as he looked at the message, and then at the face of a number of the combatants he’d just watched.  One of them, a burly man who fought with a large axe called up to him from the entrance to the arena.  “How about the Onyx warrior comes and trades some pointers with us?  No skills, we just want to see how we stack up!”

Kyle nearly groaned at the corny language, but the eyes of the combatants were just too earnest.  He started to pick up the pack, when another one yelled up at him.  “Using your drone to map us out is cheating!  Fight fair or not at all!” 

At this point, the crowd was beginning to murmur as more eyes landed on him, and Kyle was already regretting coming.  He put C.H.A.D.D. down and met Rochelle’s eyes, which held more than a little amusement.  “I’ll be back shortly.  C.H.A.D.D., keep Rochelle out of trouble.”

[CERTAINLY, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle walked into the arena, grabbing two batons from the weapon rack as he entered.  He figured he’d be squaring off against one opponent at a time, and raised an eyebrow as he saw all four of the challengers enter at the same time.  Before he could comment, an announcement rang out over the speaker system.

EXHIBITION MATCH IN PROGRESS – MARTIAL ABILITY, SKILLS DISALLOWED.  USE OF SKILLS WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE DISQUALIFICATION.

“I thought this was going to be exchanging pointers?” Kyle asked, eyes directly on the axe-wielder who had first called out to him. 

The man grinned as his companions – two swordsmen and a woman wielding a spear – began to circle around him.  “We’re not dumb enough to want to make it a fair fight against a D Grade.  Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you too badly.”

Kyle was tempted to just walk out – after all, there was no consequence to doing so.  On the other hand, it was clear that some of these people needed a reminder of what exactly it meant to face a D Grade.  Kyle simply took his stance as his opponents advanced. 

As soon as they closed within three meters, Kyle exploded into action.  His movements felt more natural than ever before, each step feeling more precise.  He expected this was a result of Covert Dexterity, and the man with the axe was the first to fall.  He had raised the weapon in a guard, but was too slow to stop Kyle from striking his wrist three times in succession, knocking the axe out of his grip. Kyle circled around him, landing several more stinging blows as the others closed.

Kyle effortlessly dodged a thrust from the spear, and batted away a descending sword as his other baton caught the woman holding the spear squarely in the jaw.   She reeled back as Kyle pressed the assault, disarming her while the swordsmen desperately tried to close the distance.  From a technique perspective, they each had him outmatched.  Unfortunately for them, the difference in raw attributes was just too much to overcome.  In short order, the arrogant looks on his opponents’ faces turned to fear, and Kyle signaled he was done with the fight.

For all their bluster, they hadn’t been an actual challenge.  Kyle wasn’t sure why they even bothered, until he walked out of the arena to see a stranger slowly backing away from where Rochelle and C.H.A.D.D. were waiting.  Rochelle was standing up, hands resting on the hilts of her daggers.  A wave of anger washed over Kyle as he activated HASTE and dashed up to their location, catching more than a few looks. 

The stranger paled upon seeing Kyle, and scrambled to leave the training area.  Kyle turned to Rochelle as he deactivated his skill.  “What was that about?”

Rochelle smirked.  “He wanted to rummage around in your purse, and I asked him how many fingers he’d like to lose if he did.”

“It’s not a purse, it’s a pack.  And thank you.”

“Always a pleasure.  Come on, they’re ready for us back in Engineering.”

They group left the training area and made their way to Themestra’s office.  Upon opening the door, Kyle was shocked to see that somehow the workshop had gotten even more cluttered.  What drew his eyes the most, however, was a sleek pack resting on the central table.  It had sharp angles, and looked to be somehow crafted from a single piece of metal.  Well, after seeing Themestra’s skills, it probably is.  Walking up to it, Kyle saw two plates at the top which slid to the sides, creating an opening to place the drone. 

Along the bottom was a set of holes, per Kyle’s specifications.  He saw two small levers on each side, which would either seal or open the holes.  The excuse he put in the schematics was to vent any debris or liquid that got inside, and they worked flawlessly.  A grin crept across his face, as a squeaky voice piped up.

“What are you waiting for, see if it fits!”

Kyle sensed Themestra when he walked in, picking up the D Grade mana behind a pile of clutter.  He obliged, and C.H.A.D.D. fit snugly inside.  With the flick of his wrist, the opening closed and sealed, leaving C.H.A.D.D. secured within.  Kyle hefted the pack, which a good deal heavier than the one made of insect chitin, though Kyle knew it was an order of magnitude more durable. 

“What do you think, buddy?”

[THE PROTECTIVE POWER IS SIGNIFICANT.  HOWEVER, THE MATERIAL POSES A PROBLEM.]

Kyle nodded, expecting what the drone was about to say next.

[AS THINGS STAND, THE MATERIAL MAKES IT PARTICULARLY DIFFICULT TO RUN SCANS.  ESTIMATED FUNCTIONALITY RESTS AT SIXTEEN PERCENT.]

Themestra strode up to him at that, a smug expression on her face. 

“I told you that you should have let me look everything over.  I could have found a solution for this.  It’s not too late you know.  I bet Chester would cover the costs of a replacement pack.”

Kyle shook his head. 

“It’ll be fine.  How many inscriptions can you put into the pack to stay within my budget?”

“Three is the maximum in either case.  There’s not enough material to successfully inscribe more, and you couldn’t afford more if it could.”

Kyle shrugged, but before he could respond his nav bracelet pinged.  Looking at it, he opened the message to see a list of runic inscriptions available. 

“If what your drone said is right, you’ll probably want me to run three amplification formations.  It’s a smaller version of what we use around the reactor, so that a D Grade reactor can push through the B Grade portals.”

Ignoring the mind-boggling information she shared for the moment, Kyle fixed his eyes on other options on the list.  Two in particular stood out to him. 

“How effective are the self-repair inscriptions?  And what does the telemetry inscription do?”

“Self-repair is pretty cool, but it’s more of a ‘fix the everyday wear and tear’ instead of ‘shield me from a giant bug.’” 

Themestra scratched her head as she thought about answering the other question.

“Telemetry is a little weird.  It’s all about gathering information from long-range scanners, which is super useful on a ship like this.  Except it’s not useful at all for something like the pack.  The passive mana draw isn’t enough to power it, you’d need an additional formation for that.  And even if you could power it, you’d need a means to use it and decipher the data, and the pack doesn’t have anything like that built in.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, and Kyle was worried she’d figured out more of how his ability worked.  Relief flooded him as he heard the next words.

“That’s why you’re using the cables!  You’re trying to find a way to hook the drone up to the pack!  Gonna be tough with how snug the fit is, but I like the idea!  I’d give it… a twenty percent chance of working if you try it.  I could probably get it to a fifty-fifty.  It’d be a risky play, but I like the idea.  Chester will like the idea too, I bet.”

Her eyes twinkled, a smug smile on her face.  It was clear she thought she’d won something, which Kyle was happy to grant her. 

“I’m not going to give you full access to C.H.A.D.D.”

“Suit yourself.  Either way, your safest bet is for me to put in three amplification formations.”

Kyle shook his head. 

“I’ll take one of those, one self-repair, and one telemetry.”

Themestra’s expression got serious.

“If you get it wrong, you’re going to get a lot less useful.  Once the inscription is done, I can’t just get rid of it.  You’ll have blown all your credits for nothing.  You won’t be earning them back if you can’t find a steady stream of resources.  And when we get the broken units refurbished with this design, we won’t need you to find the treasures at all.”

“She’s got a point, Kyle.  There’s no point in taking a senseless risk right now.”

Kyle met Rochelle’s eyes, and only felt his resolve strengthen.

“I know what I want.”

Themestra shrugged.  “Suit yourself.  I’ll have it done by mid-day tomorrow.” 

With that, Kyle removed C.H.A.D.D. from the pack, parted ways with Rochelle, and made his way back to his quarters.  The next few days were about to get busy.