The Fiercest Craving Read online

  Once Jaren had reached thirty feet from the hall, the smell of freshly made breakfast beckoned his nostrils, turning his lugubrious stride into a brisk walk. He entered the hall and found several people helping themselves to a buffet-style breakfast and engaging in animated chatter at tables set up throughout the venue. Jaren approached the buffet and grabbed two pancakes, eggs, a sausage, a donut, and some orange juice. He took the nearest empty table and started to ravenously consume the much-needed meal. Out of all the buildings and areas Jaren had seen, this room by far had the most traditional feel to it. The floors were made of smooth, solid granite that reflected the light of antique-style chandeliers hanging above them. From these two aspects of the room, Jaren surmised that this hall served not only as a large conference room, but also as a formal ballroom. He quickly downed his breakfast with ease and took in the exquisite atmosphere, which possessed a quality unparalleled by anything he had ever seen before in his life.

  Rejuvenated by the meal, Jaren looked intently at the stage, occupied by three men wearing formal suits and ties. At present, they were testing the sound system of the building from the podium located at center stage. At the reverberating sound of tapping on a microphone, the most of the room ceased its conversation and looked toward the stage.

  "Testing, testing, okay good." The sound of a calm, practiced voice filled the venue.

  "Welcome all, to the I. F. S. Scorpio; I hope you are enjoying your stay here so far. I am Eldan Heldus, Senior Undersecretary to the Emperor in the Mechanical and Engineering departments. Firstly, I offer my congratulations to all of you, for your unsurpassed hard work and dedication to your jobs. I personally have received and read stellar recommendations from your overseers and therefore have no doubt that you'll all be successful here. Before I continue, I would just like to confirm that everyone in this building is either a mechanic or an engineer."

  The room remained silent and Eldan continued, "Very well then, let's begin with the basics. You all are here because this flagship is the foremost institution of innovation in all fields, yours being no exception. While you work here, hopefully for the full eight-year term we have you signed up for, you will do what you thought unimaginable in your previous posts. You will fix turbines and mining lasers, design better armor and weaponry for our military, conduct cutting edge research on the refraction and amplification of particle beams and much, much more. As you innovate and advance technology, you will be treated with world-class care. Not once should you find a dirty facility, a poorly cooked ration or anything else of substandard quality. As insurance to that promise, we have these things..."

  A door glided open on the back wall of the stage, and a creature identical to the ones Jaren had seen earlier on the factory line reluctantly trotted onto the stage, impelled by the jabs of a shock-rod against its backside. The inflictor of this in-humane coercion was another of the men in suits, who had disappeared backstage when Eldan began to talk. The disgust once again welled up in Jaren's stomach as he stared at the helpless creature, unable to look anywhere else. Its dark body, covered in scabs, bruises and untreated burns, told a story of brutal torture and negligence on the part of its master. The crude mask on its head, identical to the worn loincloth it wore, featured two slits for eyes and a few holes near the nose and mouth area as well as some sort of number branded on the forehead, which Jaren could not discern from his distance to the stage. Jaren heard muffled grunts coming from under its mask as the shock-rod forced it to center stage.

  "This," Eldan said rather smugly, "is an orc. Their sole purpose around here is to do the dirty work."

  Upon hearing those words, Jaren found his fists uncontrollably clenched into tight balls. He looked around the room and, to his dismay, saw that no one else seemed to mind what Eldan had just said. So they were slaves, he thought. The damn imperial system has legalized slavery? Jaren could hear his heart pumping blood throughout his muscles and through veins now protruding from his head, feeling every pulse of his augmented heart rate. The anger welling inside him had caused an adrenaline rush, and his will fought hard to avoid triggering the trance. Breathing steadily, Jaren fought his physical tenseness but had no control of the death grip the sudden anger had on his emotions. He continued to listen painfully.

  "Now," Eldan continued, "if these lowly, pathetic creatures fail to do their tasks or step out of their place in society, make sure to note the number branded on the forehead of their mask or on their right arm so that they can be rightfully punished for their actions. We assure you that any negligence or bad behavior on their part will not be taken lightly. Speaking of which, I just remembered why I volunteered Mister B six three eight for the orientation today..."

  Suddenly, the orc let out an extended groan of pure agony, as the man with the shock-rod gave it another, much harder jab in the back. This sudden outburst of cruelty took Jaren entirely by surprise, and he instantly regurgitated part of his meal up into his mouth. His eyes watered and his stomach heaved, as he made a huge effort to down the partially digested food again. Once Jaren had finished the exertion, he panted heavily. Apparently, Eldan had taken notice of Jaren's moment of discomfort, "You ok there, sir?"

  "Ah, yes, I guess I ate too much," Jaren replied, as if he had rehearsed the line.

  "Well I hope that really was an issue of quantity rather than quality. Please let the staff know if it was the latter. I would hate to think we served you sub-par food for your first meal here."

  "Oh, absolutely not," Jaren croaked.

  "Okay, if you say so, we will continue with the second part of the orientation. Engineers will meet with Chelsea on the left hand side of the room and mechanics with Jim on the right."

  Two other people, one man and one woman, entered from backstage, as the orc was led out by the other two men in suits. Jaren followed the man to a clearing on the right side of the hall, clutching his stomach with his right hand, and trying to swallow the bitter taste that had entered his mouth.

  Jaren's new overseer sported a thick moustache and wrinkled, worn skin on his face. Both his hair and the moustache showed specs of gray among their orange-brown color. Beneath his square, rimless glasses stood hardy, brown eyes in ovular sockets. The whites of the eyes showed many red veins, and dark circles were clearly visible as well. Overall, his body appeared burly, but not obese.

  "You don't look very good, son. Just what happened to make ya look so sick?" The man suddenly said in a concerned tone of voice.

  "Oh, well I was hungry and the food was so good that I overate."

  The man chuckled, "Oh, yeah, food here is definitely something else. Well, you should get some rest then when this thing's done. The name's Jim Hansen, by the way."

  "Jac-err, Trace Reid," Jaren corrected himself, biting his tongue.

  "Whoa, ya really do seem out of it, son. The rest will really do ya some good."

  Jaren nodded obligingly, waiting for the blood pressure induced by his near-fiasco to die down. Once all the mechanics had gathered near Jim, he spoke, "Well, like 'ole Heldy said, it's truly an honah to welcome ya'll here to the Scorpio. Mah name's Jim Hansen and I'll be your supervisor and overseer as a mechanic on this here ship. Luckily for you, unlike 'ole Chelsea over there, I'm pretty easy-going on mah underlings, but I ain't gonna tolerate any nonsense from any of ya. That clear?"

  "Define nonsense," said a bold playful voice that came from the back of the crowd.

  "Well, if I gotta spell it out for ya bonker-brains in the back o' the crowd there, it's basically not followin' mah orders, yah hear?"

  Jim sighed and continued, "The mechanical workins o' this ship can be mighty dangerous if ya don't know what yer dealin' with, and we've had one mechanic who lost his damn life cause he was too damn cocky to follow orders. Now, yer first assignment's gonna be at the left turbine sector. That's located in Sector C, so be sure to take the northbound train. Any confusion?"

  The crowd remained silent.

  "Then ya'll are dismissed for now. Yer due fo
r work tomorrow at seven thirty sharp, so don't be late. Until then, see ya around."

  Jaren and the others headed for the exit and back toward the station in front of Sector G. Once excited at the prospect of his new job, Jaren now felt a cold ambivalence toward the whole place. While his work would deviate from the dull monotony of the factory, he, for some inexplicable reason, could not stand that fact that the Emperor would employ slave labor. Moreover, something about these creatures, save the fact they were slaves, seemed to trouble Jaren deep inside, although he could not tell why. Somehow, he thought, I must help them. I cannot stand to see them suffer as much as I already have. With a new, firm resolve, Jaren marched toward the station and boarded the northbound train.

  B1 Chapter 3

  III

  7:30 a.m.

  Thirty percent. The overall performance efficiency for the left turbine was valued at a mere thirty percent. Engine speed: approximately 24780 rpm, thirty percent below standard. Heat output: 4.563-4.967 Gigajoules, thirty-two percent above standard. Power usage: 235.8-267.1 Giga-watts, thirty-seven percent above standard. These statistics were relayed to Jaren through a diagnostic kiosk situated in a corner of Sector C. His common sense told him that thirty percent was not a satisfactory statistic but at the same time made him wonder why the task of repairing the colossal turbine would be handed down to rookie mechanics.

  The flagship's left turbine had a resounding presence especially when seen from its control room, a mere fifty away. Plain white walls surrounded the control room on three sides while the fourth consisted of a large plexiglass window surrounded by a frame of white. Among other notable features, many small doors with digital locks, allowing key code, card key, or fingerprint entry, stood affixed to the wall opposite the turbine. Also, the chamber housing the turbine currently sported a red ambient light.

  Jim, as engrossed in the statistics as Jaren, laughed suddenly and put his hand on Jaren's shoulder. "She's a fine bitch today, that she is, but hell with it, I've probably been on the job to fix 'er up so many times that I'd bet anything there's one orc on this vessel per time I got 'er outa trouble."

  Jaren forced a weak laugh, suddenly remembering the one thing he didn't like about his new workplace. As soon as the clock hit thirty-one past the first hour, Jim addressed the assembled crew. "Good to see y'all have made it in time, or at least most of ya buggers. Currently, we're running deep space, we are, and our big friend here, well, she ain't being too cooperative with us today. So that's where you guys come 'n. Y'all are gonna fix that bloody killah over there and bring 'er back up close to max efficiency. For y'all to do that I got 'em 'ardcore power tools and you'll also need to wear these heavy armor thingies."

  He pulled out one of several heavy tool boxes from an open locker and showed the various standard mechanic's tools such as drill guns with auto-adapt drill bits to fit any size screw or drill any size hole and similar power wrenches. He finally pulled out a large, heavy set of clothing from a vacuum-compressed plastic bag, which included silicon-graphite fiber gloves, a graphite coated titanium alloy helmet complete with a carbon synthesized glass visor as well as top gear, bottom gear, and boots all made of heat-resistant fibers consisting of similar graphite material.

  "This baby can reach temperatures that are fractional of a freakin star in order to make use of our nuclear fusion drive, necessary for warp-speed," Jim continued. "I ain't gonna look to see that y'all are gonna put on your gear 'fore ya work on 'er cause y'all should already know that thing can melt ya like a flamethrower on ice."

  The group nodded, but many doubted that even the work suits they were provided with would resist the heat output of the massive turbine. Jim interrupted any further thoughts. "'Kay, now this is what we're gonna do. If y'all look at the efficiency chart on your left, you're gonna see that work output of this machine is lower while the resource input and waste output of it is higher than normal. I've already done a preliminary inspection and found that she's gotta few leaky heat ducts and some poor connections to the main power channel. Now fixing heat ducts and faulty c'nnections is gonna be a piece o' pie compared to what y'all are gonna do later. So, lets see, there's about two-hundred of ya in this group, twelve leaky heat ducts, and twenny-eight faulty c'nnections. So if ya do the math that's forty problems and two-hundred people so I guess y'all can split intuh groups o' five."

  The rookies quickly divided randomly into teams and lined up along the walls.

  Jim briefly spoke again. "You twelve groups on the left'll take the heat ducts and everyone else'll fix em faulty connections. In your toolkits y'all will find troubleshooting guides for various problems in all the machines throughout the vessel. Now when I shut power off to the turbine in about fifteen minutes time, that's when y'all can enter. For now, I want ya guys to socialize and get to know yer new toys."

  Jaren would have preferred to fix a socket, but his group ended up with a heat duct instead. It took two people to lift a heavy toolbox, which would cover the supplies for one person. Once they sat down with the five toolboxes two minutes later, they began by introducing themselves to each other. Jaren remembered to introduce himself as Trace Reid and heard the names of his four co-workers: John, Lance, Chad and Alex. After brief greetings, they each proceeded to open their toolboxes.

  All the tools and equipment were brand new, judging from the plastic wrap and bindings that had to be stripped from the toolkit before opening. The first view of the inside of the box revealed plenty of bubble wrap, which encased the latest edition of the government-issued standard mechanics manual and a reference card that displayed all the parts of the ship and where their problems were diagnosed in the manual.

  Under the bubble wrap lay a metal tray with all the tools, wrapped in their own plastic bag, lying in specially shaped crevices. Jaren felt his mouth water and saw similar expressions on the faces of all his comrades at the sight of this new, state-of-the-art mechanical equipment. He turned his attention back to the new toolbox. The drill gun took up almost a fourth of the space on the bottom left hand corner, while all its drill bits and fittings extending its space to a third of the area of the tool tray.

  The other parts included a high energy laser cutter, complete with rechargeable battery and adapter, a power wrench, a small vacuum pump, an owner's manual and a small piece of paper regarding liabilities and safety issues concerning all mechanics on the flagship. Jaren saw two handle-like tabs on either side of the tool tray, which read "lift here", and so he did, removing the surprisingly light tool tray and revealing the contents of the bottom: the parts of the safety suit. He proceeded to remove them from their neatly packed vacuum bags and placed them next to the tool tray, watching as they expanded to wearable size by absorbing the surrounding air.

  At the sound of chatter occurring in other groups, the awkward silence in Jaren's broke as well, though Jaren chose not to partake in conversation. Studying the mechanic reference manual, Jaren quickly learned that leaky heat ducts most likely resulted in a loose connection between the duct and the heat grill, allowing excess heat to escape. In rare cases, the duct could possibly have cracked under the heat and pressure and would most likely have to be replaced. Hoping he would only have to tighten a few loose connections, Jaren waited for the turbine to shut down. Finally, a voice came in through an intercom in the room, "Jim, we're now fully halted in mid-space; you're clear to shut down the turbine."

  "Roger that, Max."

  Approaching a blank wall adjacent to the turbine, Jim placed his hand on the smooth surface in a seemingly random spot. At that instant, part of the wall slid away revealing a full alpha-numeric keyboard in touch screen format. Covering the panel with his body, Jim quickly entered his pass code and stepped back as the panel covered the screen again. The quick, rhythmic sounds of the turbine in motion gradually started to fade while the blades slowly became visible and changed from electric blue to chrome. After the minute-long process had completed, the lighting beyond the glass wall changed from red to green,
signaling safe entry into the turbine.

  Jim spoke one last time, "Those of ya werkin' on the leaky ducts'll get the radiator outside the turbine. The lucky majority of ya will go in the beast instead to get them faulty c'nnections. You can tell if something is leaky or faulty by the red LED next to it; everythin' else is fine so don't go around touchin' what ya don't needa touch. Finally, and most important, you leave when the light in the area turns yellow whether yer done or not. This'll happen about fifteen minutes after yer allowed in there, which should be plenny of time to tighten a few loose nuts, by the way. After five minutes o' yellow light, the light'll turn orange. If you ain't outa the room within one minute after that, the chamber'll close and yer sawdust-the fate of one unlucky rookie from two years ago who was too damn thick in the skull to get his ass out in time."

  "Don't you screen the place anyway to make sure there are no stragglers left behind?" said a somewhat meek voice coming from somewhere near the middle of the crowd.