Ten Years Ago
Just a little bit more. No, that’s too far. Crank it back half a turn counterclockwise. Slowly, slowly. There! Got it!
“Are you sure this – device – or whatever the hell it is, will work? I mean, the man’s basically dead. Wouldn’t we be better off dumping him behind the building and moving on?” The Galactic Imperium soldier remarked sarcastically behind her. His uniform was the standard military issue white outfit with gold trim on the top of the matching white boots, pant pockets, breastplate, and around the crease on his shoulder. His short blonde hair was as slick as his tongue, and he used it too often. The arrogance barfing from him betrayed his low rank, if the single star under the rising sun emblem on his left shoulder was any indication.
“I was instructed by your superior to follow through with the creation of this highly sophisticated Aetherial core. Your simple human mind cannot begin to comprehend the scope of complexity required to make this scientific breakthrough, let alone make it work properly.”
Her insult must have touched a nerve, and the cold steel of his rifle pressed firmly against her large Praugian head. Her first instinct was to jump out of the way, but she knew any sign of weakness would only push her luck.
“I won’t mince words, alien. You fuck this up and you’ll be six feet under faster than that poor bastard on the table. Hell, judging by the lack of color in your weird face he’s feeling better than you are.”
I beg to differ who the real aliens are in this galaxy, invader. We were here for tens of thousands of years before your belligerent, war-loving breed appeared. I’d say go back to where you came from, but you’ve not only forgotten where that was, but you couldn’t go back if you wanted to.
Focus Tu’Mar. This needs to be right or it’ll be my time to sit at the table with the old gods. You were sent here for a reason, and this is it. Bring to life that which has no meaning or purpose. Give this man a meaning. Give him a purpose. Just as Joren Steel gave you.
The Praug called Tu’Mar wiped her four-fingered hands on her blue science coat. The webbing between her fingers made swimming a breeze, but often interfered with her projects when it secreted water anytime she was nervous. She blinked her large eyes, and the gills on her neck flared as well as her slanted nostrils.
“You aliens are downright disgusting. I’m sure you’ve heard that many times, but figured you could hear it one more time before you’re dead.” His hand slapped against his peers in a motion the humans called a ‘high five’. It made a horrible clapping noise that made all the Praug in the room shudder slightly. Despite the bad reputation that Rhonar often got, and sometimes deservingly so, Humans were the true epitome of brutes. Only one human had ever treated her with a molecule of decency, and he was long gone. She wished she would see him again one day, but that day would likely never come.
Refocus. You’re so close to completing it. Just another minor adjustment here, and another one there. By the will of the gods, I hope this works.
Tu’Mar slightly straightened one of the myriads of small metal bars woven together in a hexagonal shape with an emerald green crystal set in the middle. The metal was one called Duratanium, a cobalt-colored metal that had the distinct ability to conduct Aether through its atoms. It remained a mystery how it did this, though the Aetherials once coveted the precious metal before their kind was all but eliminated. Now that they were no longer around to hoard it, the Praug were happy to take it off their hands. So were the Galactic Imperium, who were much more adamant in figuring out its secrets in the secluded research facility they were currently in. Unfortunately for the Praug, the military prowess of the Galactic Imperium gave them little choice but to cooperate.
Still, it was better than the alternative.
“There! My calibrations are complete and it is done.” Tu’Mar took a step back, a wide smile spread across her face as she gave herself a front row seat to admire her work. Amidst dozens of small steel tools, wires, and bits of crystal sat the first of its kind and previously only a myth: an artificial Aetherial Core.
“About damn time. Put it in the half-dead man and see if it actually works. Then, we can talk about your payment.”
Her smile faded as quickly as it came with the sudden realization that she wasn’t sure it would work the way she intended. It could bring the man back to life for seconds, and instantly fail. It could simply not work at all. Science was a form of art to the Praug, and their self-worth often rested on their ability to discover new cures to diseases, invent improvements for agriculture and mining, among many other scientific fields of research. In that aspect, Tu’Mar considered herself an Aetherial prodigy.
Webbed hands trembling, she lifted the core from the table, and walked it over to the man prone on an operating table. The dark skinning man had a gaping hole in his chest where his heart normally beat; replaced by tubes and wires intertwined with other body parts still operating normally within. His black hair pulled back in neat dreadlocks; his features aging him at roughly forty or so years old, though his impeccable muscle tone and physique implied otherwise. He was alive, though barely. The machinery kept him in a catatonic state as Tu’Mar worked tirelessly for the last eight standard days, taking breaks to quickly devour her meal and then promptly get back to work. Holovids beside the bed projected his various vitals to ensure he was still among the living while she worked.
This man was the cause of her sleep deprivation, building anxiety, and a number of other maladies. And yet, he was about to be her ticket to freedom.
She gently placed the core within his chest as her hands began to sweat again. Praug were naturally resistant to bacterial residue, so she didn’t bother wearing gloves while working on live specimen. One tiny plug after another, she disconnected it from the machine and prayed it would work. With the final plug removed, she stepped back, waiting for it to spark to life.
It didn’t.
“Well, looks like your freak experiment failed. Time to go out back.”
Tu’Mar shook her head in disbelief. It didn’t work? How didn’t it work? I calibrated everything to match the Aetherial wavelengths he’s outputting. It’s scientifically impossible for this core to not work.
A firm hand grabbed her arm above the shoulder and yanked, hard. She fell backwards, arms flinging in front of her as she crashed to the floor. She struggled as a second hand grabbed her other arm and she was dragged across the smooth floor. Arms waving, legs kicking, she fought with all the strength her slim figure could muster. Praug weren’t known for their physical prowess, and she was on the lighter side of her species.
“Let me go! I’m sure it’s just a simple adjustment and I’ll have it working. I give you my word it’ll work this time.”
“You gave your word already, and in exchange we spared your life. We aren’t in the business of handing out free donations. Your time is up, science freak.” The automatic door sensors detected the Galactic Imperium soldiers dragging her out and opened.
Vroom. Before they could leave, a sound that could only be compared to an engine bursting through a planet’s atmosphere deafened everyone in the room. The scientists and soldiers alike struggled to gather their senses. The man, once a lifeless science experiment, slowly sat up on the table. His movement appeared almost robotic, with a twinge of hesitation as he blinked, taking in his chaotic surroundings.
The man cautiously glanced down at his chest for an extended moment. He stared into the core as it hummed with power. Aetherial energy danced around and seemed to radiate from that emerald crystal within; the Duratanium rings rotating around it in an indistinguishable rhythmic pattern like a planet rapidly revolving around a sun without an end in sight.
“Who am I? What am I?” His deep voice asked. His eyes jumped between everyone in the room before they fixed on Tu’Mar. He blinked twice and tilted his head slightly in confusion.
Shaking with excitement, Tu’Mar scrambled to her feet as the guard dropped his gun and jaw simultaneously. His counterpart swore in awe at the merging of magic and man before them.
I did it! I knew I could do it all along. You may have doubted my genius, mother, but I never lost faith.
I told you it was possible.
Excitedly she replied, “Your name is Malik Maholmes, and you are the first of your kind. We have a lot to talk about.”