Return from Exile

Chapter 6.

The scent of coffee lingered in the air, half-empty mugs abandoned on the table. Garen, Conus, and Klamarez stood around, their attention fixed on the spot Klamarez had pointed out moments earlier. At first glance, the floor looked no different from the rest of the room, blending seamlessly.

Conus had thought Klamarez was joking—until his augmented eye caught the faint outline of a square hatch beneath the surface. How did I miss this?

His augments hadn’t just restored his abilities; they’d enhanced them. But sometimes, Conus questioned their true purpose.

Klamarez knelt, claws extending as he slid his fingers under the seam and lifted the panel.

“Where does this lead?” Conus asked. “A cave?”

Klamarez chuckled and glanced at Garen, who responded with a short laugh. With the floor panel removed, a dark, marbled hatch was revealed. No visible lock—just a lever. Klamarez pulled out his PDA, activated a command, and a heavy click echoed through the room as the locks disengaged. A low, rolling sound followed as the hatch loosened.

“Is that Rinorite?” Conus asked, his eyes scanning the material.

“Ever seen it before?” His curiosity hard to miss.

“No, never thought I would.” Conus tilted his head. Rinorite was rare—highly prized for its strength.

“Not many do,” Garen said, shifting the topic. “I remember when you started putting the ship together. Wasn’t long after I arrived, right?”

“Seemed impossible back then,” Klamarez replied.

Klamarez had never expected Garen to stay on Chiex this long. There were times he’d seen Garen think about leaving, but somehow, he’d stuck around—almost as if he was waiting, outlasting them all until they finally came back, asking for his help. If they’d asked nine years ago, would he have gone? Klamarez wondered.

Now Garen’s time on Chiex was ending. The thought unsettled Klamarez. What does this mean for me? We’re heading to Rhyus, aren’t we? His stomach tightened. What have I agreed to?

Klamarez gripped the lever and pulled. The metal creaked as the hatch opened. Garen descended first, followed by Conus. The ladder led into a narrow, square tunnel. Once they reached the bottom, the hatch clicked shut, the locks sliding back into place.

They stood in a small, well-lit chamber with a single door ahead. Klamarez stepped off the ladder, pulled out his PDA, and entered a few commands. A series of sharp clicks echoed as the locks disengaged. He pocketed the device and yanked the lever, swinging the door open. Once inside, he sealed it behind them.

The hallway was cluttered but organized, lined with shelves packed with spare parts, gears, and wiring. Despite the cramped space, everything had its place.

As they moved deeper, the corridor split at an intersection. Conus slowed, drawn to the half-finished projects scattered around. A partially built Synthetic caught his eye—a red frame, missing legs, its eyes narrow and lifeless.

“That’s an Assault model,” Conus said, inspecting the Synthetic. “A Render.”

“I’ve been working on it for a while,” Klamarez replied. “Still need a few components—an interface module, a couple of power cells. Legs.”

Garen stepped closer, eyeing the scattered parts. “Too bad it’s not operational,” he said dryly. “Could’ve given us a hand—assuming it’s been reprogrammed.” He paused, his thoughts drifting. “The Kyther.”

Before the Vorcon Empire, the Seven Worlds fought the Kyther of the Kohamus System, who had built a Synthetic army. The Kyther accomplished what others couldn’t—they set foot on Rhyus itself. Yet, in the end, Rhyus’s victory displayed the full might of its Defense Fleet, leaving no doubt about their power. That victory cemented Rhyus’s dominance in the region. Ironically, years later, the Kyther and the Seven Worlds became close allies.

“Tell him where you got it,” Garen said with a sharp laugh, catching Conus off guard.

Klamarez grinned, his right fang showing. “Won him in a game of cards. Been collecting parts ever since.”

“Too bad you didn’t win the bottom half,” Conus quipped with a smirk, letting out an awkward chuckle.

Klamarez shrugged. “Lost that hand.”

As they continued, the bunker opened into a larger complex. Hallways branched off into a living area, a small nook with security monitors, a communications terminal, and a lounge. The entire facility ran on its own independent power supply.

Conus’s eyes landed on the communications console. “Can I use this to try and reach my team?” he asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

“If Klamarez doesn’t mind, go ahead,” Garen said quietly.

Klamarez nodded, leading Conus to the console. Conus entered the necessary information. Silence followed.

“Did you check for signals on your RemLink? Assuming they were synced for the mission?” Garen asked.

Conus paused, then shook his head. “No.” He pulled out his RemLink and scanned it. All the signals had ceased at the same time—the moment of the explosions. Confirming what he had already suspected.

Klamarez moved around the room, gathering parts and packing a suitcase.

“So, you live down here? Not on the surface?” Conus asked, though he already knew the answer.

Klamarez gave a brief smile. “I’d rather no one knew about this place. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Did you build all this yourself?” Conus pressed.

“I wish,” Klamarez replied. “No, I found it while scouting Chiex as a potential settlement.”

A group of Camerians had hired Klamarez to find them a new home. After scouting several planets, he recommended Chiex, following Garen’s suggestion.

“So, you just stumbled across this bunker?” Conus asked, still skeptical.

“Yeah. Pretty lucky, right?”

“The bunker’s about 250 years old, according to the memory banks. The rest is encrypted,” Garen added. He had often wondered who had built it—and what they had been searching for.

“Whoever built it knew what they were doing,” Klamarez said, running his hand along the wall. “It’s pure Rinorite.”

“The entire bunker?” Conus asked.

Klamarez nodded.

“I could try decrypting those memory banks,” Conus offered.

“No need,” Klamarez replied with a grin. “You’re probably wondering how I found it, right?”

He had followed a faint power signal during one of his scouting missions. The structure that had once concealed the bunker had long since collapsed. Tracing the signal had led him to a cave along the cliffside, revealing an alternate entrance to the underground bunker.

They continued down the hallway until they reached a large, solid door. Klamarez stepped forward and entered a code. The door slid open, revealing a spacious hangar bay dominated by a spacecraft.

The ship rested on three-pronged landing gear, its silver hull streaked with a dark orange stripe. The narrow, sloped front ended in a small dome. The body stretched back in a sharp line, flaring into fins near the rear, where three engines—two large and one smaller. The ship was topped with a circular communications dish and a cluster of arrays, with light energy turrets mounted on either side.

“Bigger than I expected.” Conus said, eyeing the turrets. “Not much firepower, though.”

Klamarez, focused on the open panels, barely looked up as he continued working.

Garen and Conus circled the spacecraft, inspecting it closely. Conus peered into some of the open panels.

“You’ve made a lot of progress,” Garen commented. “Can she fly?”

“I wish I had more time,” Klamarez said, securing a panel on the hull. He closed it, then opened it again, making a quick connection inside before sealing it for good.

Garen smiled faintly. “It’ll be fine.”

Klamarez activated the side hatch, which slid upward as steps extended. He led the way inside. The cockpit featured three stations at the front, all centered around a large display screen. There were no viewports; external cameras and sensors provided the outside view.

The helm had manual controls and touchscreens, with two auxiliary stations behind it, each responsible for managing various ship systems. The seats showed signs of wear, each slightly different from the others. Despite the patchwork construction, the cockpit had enough space to comfortably accommodate three operators. Additional screens and control panels lined the walls near the auxiliary stations, leaving room for future upgrades that were in progress.

Toward the rear, the ship branched into two sections. One contained four bunks and basic facilities, while the other housed a small lounge and a paste dispenser. At the far end, an additional control station for power access and engineering functions. A door beside it led to the engine room. To the right, the ship’s main power source, a Capture Reactor, in the rear corner.

Garen and Conus made their way to the bridge. Garen examined the helm. We need to get this moving.

“Conus, take that station,” Garen instructed, gesturing toward one of the auxiliary consoles. “Monitor both long-range and short-range scans. Keep an eye on weapons and shields.”

Conus activated his console, rearranging the display layout. Meanwhile, Klamarez moved between the ship’s interior and exterior, hauling in extra parts and securing the remaining open panels. Once he finished outside, he returned with a box of spare parts and chips, connecting them to an internal panel hidden in the floor near a large hatch.

“I’ll need a little more time. Get familiar with the controls,” Klamarez said with a shrug.

A couple of hours passed with Garen and Conus at their stations, giving him space to work despite their repeated offers to help. Once the final components were in place, he shifted to the rear station and activated the ship’s primary systems. A soft vibration coursed through the ship beneath their feet.

Klamarez paused, taking in the moment. “Listen to her purr.”

Settling into the front Auxiliary station to the right, Klamarez pulled up a detailed overview of the ship’s engineering controls. “Just about done,” he said, though he still needed to gather a few more supplies. He moved back and forth, hauling in items and filling the ship’s storage compartments.

Garen ran through the pre-flight checklist, confirming everything was operational. Klamarez finished hauling in items, closed the hatch, and took his seat at his station. “Fire up the thrusters,” he instructed. “She’s as ready as she’ll ever be.”

Garen exhaled. What’s the worst that can happen?

He engaged the maneuvering thrusters, smoothly lifting the ship off the deck as the landing struts retracted. Klamarez remotely opened the hangar bay door, revealing the dark tunnel ahead. The ship hovered steadily toward the light at the opening, thrusters firing softly. Beyond the tunnel, the cave opened into a wide valley, a mountain range in the distance. Garen guided the ship out and circled back toward the upper level of Klamarez’s home.

“Watch this,” Klamarez said, initiating the lockdown sequence for his bunker. The display screen showed the structure on the top level collapsing in on itself, concealing the top hatch entrance. He shot Conus a quick wink.

As the ship climbed higher, Garen glanced back at Klamarez. “Has this ship been named yet? Bad luck to fly without one.”

Klamarez, still focused on his screen, responded absently, “Not yet.”

“The Seeker?” Conus suggested.

Garen shrugged. “What do you think, Klamarez?”

Klamarez repeated the name under his breath. “The Seeker, huh?”

Garen refocused on the helm. “She’s handling nicely, Klamarez. Let’s see how long it takes the Vorcons to notice.”

The Seeker climbed steadily. Garen’s eyes were fixed on the display ahead. The spaceport of Calio Landing came into view, with a protective shield covering a small section of the town and port, along a bay that opened to the ocean.

“Three Vorcon ships on short-range,” Conus reported, his eyes locked on the trace display.

“Klamarez, send them a message,” Garen said.

“What should I say?” Klamarez asked.

“Anything,” Garen replied.

Klamarez quickly typed and sent a simple message: Hello, Vorcons.

Garen adjusted The Seeker’s course, thrusting it upward.

“They’re following us,” Conus confirmed, watching the contacts on his screen as their proximity steadily closed.