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High above the village, beyond the treetops and the mountain peaks, beyond the birds and the clouds, and beyond the blue skies of the atmosphere, Kindel Thorus' starship, the Black Eagle, loomed over the planet. The Vezulian Armada's flagship drifted in a silent orbit, flanked by countless smaller starcruisers and fighter craft, its polished black steel reflecting the light of the sun. It had been constructed in the likeness of an eagle with its wings stretched in flight, a starship unlike any other in the universe. Assorted lights speckled the hull of the craft, emanating from the hundreds of windows across the ship's thirty-two decks. The four large engines mounted to the rear of the ship emitted a white-red glow. The forward section—the head of the eagle—housed the main bridge and was lined with four large viewports. The Black Eagle was well-known and greatly feared across the universe; Kindel kept it heavily-armed and didn't hesitate to make use of its firepower if the situation called for it.
Onboard, Lieutenant Petreit walked in silent panic toward the admiral's quarters. Despite the fact that he'd been summoned by Kindel Thorus himself, he got the feeling he was intruding on the admiral's privacy. Kindel had a presence that frightened people even when he was in the best of moods—and that wasn't often. But Petreit had duties to perform, and Kindel had called for him.
The barren corridor of the starship somehow seemed bigger as he headed for Kindel's quarters. Others around him almost appeared to fade into nothingness as his eyes focused on the grey door. Fear bred doubt, and doubt led to questions. Kindel had summoned him, right? It was his name he'd heard over the intercom, right? Petreit thought his heart would leap out of his chest if it could, but Kindel had called for him. Hadn't he?
His dull Vezulian uniform was made of a coarse grey fabric that held warmth all too well. Perspiration lined his neatly trimmed hair, and his beady eyes twitched about nervously above his crooked nose. He was not a ladies' man by any stretch of the imagination, but then he'd always preferred solitude over cavorting with women. Relationships required commitment and dedication, and Petreit had far more important things to attend to.
In youth, he'd wandered aimlessly from job to job with little passion for anything, but he'd found purpose with the Vezulian Armada. They'd traveled the universe for countless years, seeking out and exterminating aggressive and dangerous species. Though most of the races of the galaxy were fairly peaceful and cooperative, there were others that could only be described as savage animals. They invaded worlds and destroyed societies, thirsting nothing but bloodshed. Some did so in order to gain control of a planet's resources, others did it for food, and still others conquered for sport. Kindel, however, traveled the universe recruiting men like Petreit to stand beside him against such dangerous species. And though he feared his leader, Petreit supported everything Kindel Thorus stood for, and he would die for the Armada's cause if necessary.
Lost in thought, Petreit found himself pressing the visitor alert button beside the entrance to Kindel's quarters. The door slid open moments later with a soft electronic hum, and he took a cautious step into Kindel Thorus' personal office. Even as he entered, he tried frantically to come up with some sort of excuse for his visit in case he had been mistaken in thinking he'd been summoned. But to his surprise, Kindel didn't even look up when he arrived.
"S-Sir . . . You called for me?" he stammered, standing straight as an arrow.
Kindel sat at his desk in the center of the room. His pale-skinned fingers handled a small purple stone, twisting and rolling it between his fingers. For a moment, he ignored the lieutenant, squinting as he studied the thing. The rich glow of his eyes illuminated it, producing a brilliant sparkle.
Petreit's eyes wandered as he waited for a response—he knew better than to ask twice—and he glanced around the admiral's quarters. The walls were decorated with scrolls and tapestries that Kindel had collected from various planets over the years, most trophies of the dangerous civilizations that the Vezulian Armada had defeated. Elegant furniture varying in design was scattered about. Most of it was carved from wood, and some had been encrusted with precious stones and jewels. The cabinets against the right wall were a deep brown and covered with various statues and archeological artifacts that Petreit didn't recognize. One object in the center of it all, long and relatively flat, was neatly covered by a fine white cloth. The wall behind the admiral was made entirely of glass, providing a spectacular view of the planet below. The view took his breath away.
"Yes, Lieutenant," Kindel finally spoke. His gaze remained upon the stone. "What is your background with the Armada?"
It wasn't quite the sort of question Petreit has expected. "My b-background?"
"That's right. What are your areas of expertise? Your paperwork states that you studied Planetary Ecosystems and Indigenous Species. Are you knowledgeable about these subjects?"
"Yes, Sir," the lieutenant responded with a nod. "I can tell you about the climates, environments, and wildlife of most of the planets in this sector and many more across the galaxy. I also know much about their native species."
The admiral placed the purple stone onto his desk and stood. His dark cloak wavered with his movements, revealing the elegant clothing he wore underneath. Kindel's attire came from his native planet of Zo'rhan. Most of it was decorated with golden thread and encrusted with jewels. The tunic he wore was embroidered with the image of a fire-breathing dragon. Two sapphires were encrusted into the beast's outstretched hands, and its eyes were made from tiny rubies. His pants were tucked into his heavy black boots and matched the deep blue of his tunic. As usual, locks of white hair dangled over his eyes, but their vibrant blue glow shone through unhindered. "Have you ever heard of an organically grown gem or stone on any of the planets you're familiar with?" he finally asked.
The question took Petreit off-guard. "Organic gems?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You mean grown from living organisms?"
Kindel turned and moved toward the window behind his desk. "Yes. I'm looking for a stone that can be reproduced, much like the way a plant reproduces through its seeds. There are theories that such jewels exist, but none of the leads I've followed have produced results."
Petreit glanced at the purple stone on the desk. Horrified, he heard himself speak. "I suppose we didn't find what you were looking for after all?"
Kindel looked back at him, his lips forming a thin smile. "On the contrary, we found exactly what we were searching for. But it is just one piece of a puzzle. There are others I'll need to gather—the foremost being a gem that reproduces—before I'll be able to make good use of any of them."
The lieutenant pursed his lips in thought, trying to choose his words more carefully. The admiral didn't seem upset by his prying, but he knew better than to push his luck. "I've never heard of such a gem before, but I've got contacts on multiple science stations and research outposts across the galaxy that I can get in touch with. Perhaps one of them will be able to help."
Kindel clenched his hands into tight fists and closed his eyes. For a moment, Petreit thought his heart would never beat again. But to his surprise—and great relief—Kindel simply swore quietly and stepped back toward the desk. "Very well. I want you to notify me immediately of any possible leads that come up. Is that understood?"
"Of course, Sir," Petreit saluted. For a split second, he let his eyes shift to the purple stone again. A knowing grin came to Kindel's face, and Petreit didn't know if he should laugh or run.
"Curious, are we?"
The admiral didn't seem bothered by his interest, but Petreit was careful in choosing his words. "Well, it's not just me. Most of the men are."
Kindel returned to the window, his gaze resting upon the planet below. "As you can probably tell, I am a student of history. I collect artifacts that intrigue me, historic relics, and ancient texts. There are a great many stories and legends across the universe, most of which are myths that grew from a much
different truth. It is that truth that I seek, and what I have learned has shed great light on several of the stories floating across the galaxy. This planet, called Terranias, was once a technological wonder. Thousands of years ago, your species built skyscrapers that breached the clouds, crafted vessels that soared through the air, and even manned a mission to their moon."
That was Terranias? Petreit wanted to step closer to the window to get a better view, but he dared not to move unless instructed. He'd always been curious about Terranias, knowing that the human race had originated there. But its current civilization knew nothing of space travel or of other worlds and cultures. "What happened?" he eventually asked. "Why is it such a primitive world now?"
"The same thing that happens to every world when it becomes too powerful for its own good: war. Legends say that an epic war ravaged the planet to such an extent that the entire world was nearly destroyed. Nearly two thirds of the population was wiped out, along with the humans' technological infrastructure. Afterwards, they vowed to never again rely on technology to further their society. And to this day, they've upheld that vow. They may be primitive by our standards, but it's exactly what they want. There is, however, one flaw in the legend."
Petreit looked at his superior. None of this had explained his interest in the mysterious gem, but it was interesting nonetheless. "What flaw?"
Kindel turned to face him. "Where are you from, Lieutenant? What planet do you call home?"
"Genear, Sir. Born on the northern continent of Karsus."
"If human life originated on Terranias, and they never traveled farther than their own moon, then how did your ancestors get to Genear?"
He momentarily remained silent. "I . . . I don't know, Sir."
"Precisely." There was an air of satisfaction in the admiral's voice. "And therein lies the flaw of the legend. I did some research, cross-referencing Terranias legends with those of other planets with human populations. And that's how I learned about this."
He lifted the purple stone, his shimmering eyes radiating through it. "The humans were not at war with each other at all. They were at war with an invading force from another world, led by a man—a human—who wielded unspeakable power, able to command the elements of the land, sea, and air to do his bidding."
"He could use magic?" Petreit's face could not hide his surprise. There were several races across the galaxy who could handle the power of magic, such as the zo'rhan and the thanai, but it was a well-known fact that humans were not privy to such magnificent gifts.
"That's correct," Kindel nodded. "It was he who nearly destroyed Terranias, and his power came from this stone."
Petreit involuntarily stepped backward, nervously eying the sparkling gem in Kindel's grasp. The ability to manipulate the elements of the universe and turn them into weapons was a power he respected and feared more than anything. To think that such powers could be granted from a seemingly ordinary stone sent chills down his spine and made the hair on his neck stand. "H-how?" he finally managed to gasp.
"I have named this jewel lephadorite, from the zo'rhan word Lephad. Roughly translated to your language, it means ‘power' or ‘strength.'" Kindel reached into the top drawer of his desk and retrieved a small amulet. It was made from shimmering gold, cut into the shape of a triangle and polished to a brilliant shine. There were notches hollowed out of each corner of the face, and one larger notch in the center. It dangled from Kindel's fist on a glimmering golden chain. "You may remember," he continued, "our visit to the planet Karlain. There I obtained a set of small gems that sorcerers in that sector had enchanted to enhance the effectiveness of their powers. When combined with the lephadorite and set in this amulet, it will give unspeakable powers to the wearer. In theory, anyway."
Petreit didn't want to keep prodding, but his mouth was moving on its own now. "Have you tried it?"
Kindel shook his head and placed the amulet back into the desk drawer. "Not yet. I still have a bit of research to do. While the lephadorite is powerful, it is also quite unpredictable. It requires further study before testing, or the results could be disastrous. Some rumors suggest that the man who used the lephadorite thousands of years ago was driven mad by the stone. While I don't believe that's what truly happened, I wish to take no chances."
Petreit looked back at Terranias through the window. "How did you learn all of this? I mean, how did you know the precise location in the desert to find it? How do you—"
"I have my ways," Thorus responded. "I have been doing this for a number of years—I'm a bit older than you might think—and have accumulated many contacts across the galaxy. I've had to compare notes from a lot of sources to eliminate fiction from possible facts, but I think that this," he held up the lephadorite, "proves my methods to be reliable. There are times when others are reluctant to provide me with the information I need, of course, but I have my ways of dealing with them."
As if to allude to his meaning, the door behind Petreit slid open and two soldiers entered. They were both dressed in identical cloth uniforms, one in black and the other in white. The clothing was the traditional uniform of human martial artists, though Petreit had always doubted they were human. Their heads were completely wrapped with the same fabric they wore, and only their eyes showed through dark slits in the cloth. Two long curved blades were sheathed at the hips of the one in black, and a two-handed sword was lodged in a scabbard on the back of the white. Bandanas matching the color of their uniforms were tied around their heads, and their feet were covered by split-toe boots. They were Kindel's personal assassins, though he called them assistants. Wherever he went, they were usually at his side. And if they weren't, it was a good indication that they were handling business with someone who had rubbed the admiral the wrong way.
Kindel exchanged nods with the men as they moved to either side of his desk. "Report."
The black one, known only as Scimitar, spoke. "Truce is too wrapped up in his own work." His voice was more of a hiss than anything else. "It doesn't appear as though he knows anything about the stone."
Kalibur, the ninja in white, looked at Petreit. "Is there something you require, Lieutenant?" His voice was huskier than Scimitar's, but otherwise similar. It was obvious that he didn't want to continue in Petreit's presence.
"I summoned him," Kindel told them. He cleared his throat and continued. "Lieutenant Petreit, I have shared this information with you in confidence. Tell no one what I've told you about the lephadorite; there is still much I have to do before I can share it with the rest of the Armada. But contact your sources, Lieutenant. Find me a gemstone that reproduces itself, and we shall be one step closer to eradicating evil from this twisted universe."
Petreit wanted to ask how Kindel intended to share the lephadorite with all of the members of the Armada, but the presence of his bodyguards kept him from raising the question. Still, he could probably assume that Kindel meant to somehow duplicate the stone, presumably using the reproducing gem in the process. There were several places Petreit could contact for information, from Marzalia to the Genear sector, but it would probably be best to start by—
"Is there something else, Lieutenant?" the admiral's eyes bore through him.
Petreit's eyes refocused. "N-No, Sir. I'll get right to work on that."
Kindel's voice was firm. "See to it, soldier. Do not fail."