After the meteor shower, Ronin returned to his cell. He glanced at the mirror, seeing a gaunt hairless face looking back at him. The one bar of synthpaste a day he was given, wasn't enough. Could it be that the Kalvrakian embrace caused his body to need more nutrients? Was that why his progress had slowed?

  Since coming here, there's been many things that've been different, but two variables stick out. First, there's the lack of food. Secondly, there's the planet's corrosive atmosphere. Maybe it's one of them?

  Hopefully it was the food.

  If his initially fast progress was solely due to the harsh atmosphere, in order to progress, he'd essentially have to repeatedly break down his body. Ronin shuddered at the thought. The idea of needing something stronger than the acid air here to break past the 8th stance, was frankly horrifying. And it wouldn't end there. Just how much punishment would he then have to go through in order to complete all the 108 stances?

  It's definitely the food. Yes, I just need to eat more, he reassured himself.

  “Inmate 5348! Come out!” A guard shouted from outside his cell.

  What's going on? They usually never come down here like this.

  Walking out, Ronin got tapped in the back by one of those electric batons the guards always carried. He was then escorted down the gangway, with one of the guards in front, and five behind. He left the circular common hall, then was made to walk down a series of empty corridors. The floor, walls, ceiling — everything was painted in dull metal-gray here, but that wasn't important right now. What was important, was the fact that the corridors were completely empty, meaning that whatever this place was for, nobody used it — not anymore at least.

  Are they planning on executing me? Ronin wondered, preparing himself to fight.

  No fight came though, they just kept walking, continuing down the passages until eventually, Ronin was made to stand in front of a door.

  He looked up. Visitation? He read as he saw the sign on the doorframe. At least it's not an execution, but who would travel to a different planet to visit me? Who could?

  The guards opened the door then pushed him in. Ronin was struck dumb on the spot. Not moving, he just stood there, mouth agape, his brain short-circuiting in shock.

  Professor Raverus Ravent!?

  “Humpf, don't just stand there. Come in, sit down,” the professional voice of his practical teacher rang out.

  Ronin had to reign himself in.

  “Teacher? What are you doing here?

  “Seeing as I'm the one primarily responsible for the overall update and maintenance of Exodon's prison ships, it's only natural I would be the one to make the journey.”

  "That's not what I mean—”

  “Before any of that, there is something we’ll have to clarify.” The professor leisurely took out an air brush and began grooming himself. He cleared his throat.

  “Describe the features of the academy suit.”

  Taken aback, Ronin walked up, then took a seat. “Well... it's an expensive suit?”

  “That's not what I asked,” the professor cut him off.

  “Uh, you really just want me to list its features? Alright then... the academy suit is equipped with radiation detection technology, temperature control, a shield generator, a jet pack and—”

  “Yes, it's a lab suit,” Raverus nodded. “Now why does it have these functions?”

  “Professor, I really don't—”

  “Just answer the question,” Raverus interrupted, neither his voice, nor his expression giving anything away.

  “Ehm, alright,” Ronin said, not expecting a lesson here of all places.

  “The temperature control is installed for times our lab work requires us to work on spaceship components only stable under specific temperatures, temperatures which are not very pleasant for humans to work in.”

  The professor gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.

  “Let’s see, the radiation detection addons are obvious seeing as a radiation leak in the lab could be fatal. The shield generator stores up all the energy supplied into a one-time energy shield which I presume would be to protect against a potential lab explosion? That leaves the jetpack which is there to... uh, assist landings?”

  “Assist landings?” A slight smile emerged on Raverus's normally cool and unresponsive face. “Let me clue you in as to why a lab suit, out of all the possible useful and relevant options out there, would be equipped with something as ridiculous as a jetpack.”

  The professor raised a finger, emphasizing his next point.

  “Envy! Like a little brother, trying to copy the older, the reason jetpacks are popular in Tar, is solely due to our powerful neighbors. While it’s fashionable and affordable for more powerful nations to fly around with anti-gravity-based clothing, we here in Tar install unwieldy, heavy jetpacks. The academy suit weighs 16kg and 10 of those are because of the jetpack alone. A jetpack nobody uses I might add.”

  “But I do,” Ronin cut in.

  “You’re the exception, there’s been studies on this. Now listen, I asked that question because it shows just how small and insignificant this kingdom really is. If The Sichuan Empire says jump, Tar’s only question is: How high? If the Protus coalition comes up with a new trend, you’ll see Tar bending over backwards in an attempt to imitate them.”

  “You ask me why I am here? To get you out of course! Did you think the academy would abandon a promising student like you, just like that? I told you about the jetpack because of what it signifies. We are weak Mr. Maximus. Tar is weak. It only takes one word from one person of a higher system to overturn this entire kingdom! If a top-level designer in Sichuan said the word, Tar would completely change as a result! In this galaxy kid, one genius has more power than billions...”

  Why was the professor telling him this? Out of every possible subject of conversation, he had not asked Ronin about his innocence. He had not mentioned anything related to Ronin's false imprisonment. Did it not matter? Ronin had to make sure: “So, the reason you came to get me is—”

  “Yes, it is what you think,” the professor said. “We believe it's possible you might just be such a genius.”

  “Wait!” Ronin broke in. “I'm a genius? Just like that?”

  “Remember the fusion drive repair exercise? You shouldn't have been able to repair that engine the way you did. That engine has over 10 000 different components with over 13 measurable properties each. For you to compare them all without assistance, is unheard of. Nobody does that. To be frank, I didn't believe you at first when you told me you did it. But you did. We've analyzed the footage and are now certain.”

  “And what of my crime?” Ronin asked.

  Raverus gave an awkward cough. “Don't worry about that. Someone sent the entire academy the evidence of what happened to you. You're in the clear.”

  “But what if I had actually done it?”

  Raverus made a casual gesture with his hand. “You wouldn't be on Exodon. Now, I’ve called down the prison warden so they can answer for what they’ve done to you. You should think about what to ask.”

  So, it was true. They might not even care whether he actually blew up his skyscraper or not. It seemed talent was valued above all else here.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ronin mulled over the lecture. If a single powerful man from a higher system could change an entire state, that meant there was an enormous gap in power between systems. If he wanted power, in other words, he had two paths. Military power and power gained through status. If he focused on ship design, he could get enormous amounts of personal power, and his words would carry a lot of weight.

  Still... if he had to pick, Ronin would most definitely prioritize military power. Power gained through status depended upon the grace of others. It might be handy to have, but it could just as easily be taken away. Military power on the other hand...

  After a slight pause, Ronin asked the professor: “I might blackmail the warden a bit, are you alright with that?”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  “…”

  “I’m, I’m sorry, I—I just can’t,” the warden said, bowing his head in apology. The short man couldn't have been over 1.5 meters, and his faded suit looked as if it'd been worn for years.

  “Do you know just how much of a national strategic asset a genius is?” Ronin pressed. “You not only forced this genius through hell, but you also made me, alone, fight against 50 people in a life and death battle. That's a death sentence! You might as well have just pulled the trigger yourself. As I rise in rank and gain more influence, a mere word from me could cost you a lot more than just your career... You understand that right?”

  “Just please, listen to me! You can have a warsuit as well as the real name of inmate 1437, but releasing your cellmates is impossible!”

  Ronin had to hold himself back from smiling. He was not only going home, but he was also getting a warsuit! He'd pressed for his cellmate's freedom as much as he could, but apparently his newfound status had its limits. Still, a warsuit! He could only imagine what he’d be able to do when he got his hands on that thing. It might be illegal for a civilian to walk around in that death machine, but what if he retrofitted it? What if he made it look like a civilian suit? He'd just look like a really, really big 3-meters tall person.

  Yeah, he could definitely work with that.

  With regards to the warden though? There was no grudge in between them to begin with. Had this been a few weeks prior, when the alien artifact still influenced his mind, Ronin's attitude might have been different. But now? No, it was the people who put him here that needed payback. The people who'd framed him. The people who'd paid the ones who'd framed him — Specter. One way or the other, they would all be repaid.

  Finally, with the healing nanobots being maybe, likely, probably, very possibly, owned and tracked by the Sichuan Empire, Ronin had been suggested to get rid of those as soon as possible. He was inclined to agree. In his current condition, the less surveillance he had on him, the better.

  To think I’ll be leaving this place just like that, Ronin thought. “Any chance I’ll get to see my cellmates again before I leave?” He asked, just to make sure.

  The professor gave him a look, his eyes telling him all he needed to know. “The warden would allow it, but I won’t. You’ve already been here long enough, and I’m on a schedule.”

  With Raverus in the lead, they walked back into the gray empty corridors, then out onto the ship hangar. Ronin recognized this place. This was where they'd taken his clothes and disabled his implant. He shivered inwardly, having to force himself step by step towards the wall. He knew what would happen next.

  Once he was in position, he was once again grabbed by the metal tentacles then locked in place. And as a bot floated up beside his neck, then began extracting the nanites, Professor Ravent took out a strange looking device. About the size of a human arm and colored by an intermix of white and black, the device had an eye shaped cup on top. What truly put Ronin off though, was the blue liquid circulating within it.

  “You might want to brace yourself for this,” the professor said, then placed the eye shaped cup onto his right eye.

  “Hang on professor, what exactly— Argh!”

  Still locked in place by the tentacles, Ronin felt an intense itch began clawing its way into the eye. He tried closing it, but it didn’t help.

  “What actually cut your connection to your optical implant was damage to your optic nerve,” the professor began. “Severed correctly, it lets you retain your vision, but it takes away any and all access you have to the implant.”

  Ronin needed to scratch the itch; he had to!

  Professor Ravent continued: “This type of operation is remarkably effective. The right types of implants continue to receive and transmit, but only the prison guards can see what. This lets them know everything the inmates do, all the while the inmates being none the wiser. Well, your implant can't be listened in on. You really should go back to a government issued one. Walking around with an illegal implant is... not advisable.”

  Ronin’s arms kept twitching against his will, trying to reach his eye. The itch had now become a grand encompassing object of singular focus. Ravent, however, did not seem to register his turmoil at all! The blue liquid in the device continued evaporating as it released more gas.

  “Anyways, in the way that the radiation damages the optic nerve, it makes it almost impossible to heal,” the professor said. “It's why I had to use a device like this. It's a 5th rate knockoff of a knockoff of the real thing, but to someone like us, it's a heavenly elixir. Based on old artificial stem cell technology, it's said that the real thing can grant a person immortal life, but that's only a rumor out here on the fringes. Regardless, we're at least left with this blue variant, and it will heal your optic nerve, but it does itch. Alot.”

  As Raverus removed the device, the itch subsided.

  “You could have warned me about this!” Ronin managed to get out between sharp breaths.

  “I did.”

  “You didn’t mention how bad it would be!”

  “Telling you before you were restrained would have been suboptimal.”

  Ronin gave up. Talking to this guy was like talking to a concrete wall.

  As the itching finally became somewhat manageable, the tentacles released their hold on him, and they began walking towards a spaceship.

  The ship, elegantly shaped, was colored black and had sharp intermixing lines of silver and gold. What stood out though, where the two huge circular thrusters at the back. Whatever this was, it wasn't a transport ship. Spanning over 60 meters in length, it had a crew of technical officers circling around it, plugging in, and pulling out a series of cables, all the while tapping their fingers in the air.

  “Pre-flight analyses,” the professor commented, noticing Ronin's interest.

  “What are they measuring?”

  “Specifically? Well… anything to do with the outer hull I’d say. You know… microfractures, electrical damage, material deformation, field stability and so on.”

  “But the ship looks perfect. How could there be anything wrong?”

  Raverus Ravent frowned, he actually frowned! This was the most emotional Ronin had ever seen the guy.

  “Please don’t use that word in front of me. Just because something looks fine, that doesn't mean that it is. Not that the ship looks fine either. I’d expect you to know better after the fusion engine exercise.” The professor began to walk off, clearly not wanting to talk anymore.

  Did that word really tick him off that much?

  “Hey! Wait for me, how long will the itch last before its gone?”

  The man picked up speed, but at least Ronin got an answer:

  “After about 30 hours you should be fine. That's also about the time it’ll take for your optical implant to connect properly. By the time we reach Ironglades, you should be able to browse the net to your heart's content.”

  “…”

  Ronin reached the gangway leading up and into the ship. The professor had already entered, walking at a brisk pace as he distanced himself from Ronin.

  “Good! Right on time student, we should make the journey back in a jiffy!” A well-dressed, bearded man said.

  Standing at the entrance of the ship along with two others, likely his assistants, the black-haired man then erupted into a bright smile.

  “—And before I forget, welcome to Goldwing! I’ll be your captain today and if you experience any turbulence during travel, blame the planet not the captain, hahaha!”

  “Thank you!” Ronin replied. “Name’s Ronin!” He stretched out a hand.

  Clasping the hand in a firm handshake, the captain greeted back: “Name's Jarski. This here is Pablo,” he tilted his head right, “and this is Erina,” he tilted his head left. “These are my two captains in training!”

  “Stop it!” Erina said, blushing. “We're his assistants.”

  “If you two keep up the good work you'll be captains in no time,” Captain Jarski laughed.

  After some more small talk, Ronin entered the airlock, his eyes wide in amazement. This ship was on a whole other level! He’d been in plenty of shuttles, but never something like this. This was a corvette. The real deal. The elegant corridors were painted, likely by hand, to depict star systems, ships and humans locked in grand battles against aliens. The specifics of the battles were difficult to make out, owing to the impressionist style they were painted in, but the overall theme was clear.

  Vastness and struggle, Ronin's mind resonated as he stood inside the ship's entrance corridor.

  “Pablo, why don’t you show our new guest around,” the captain spoke in an upbeat manner.

  “Very well sir! How about it, kid, want to see the engine room?”

  Ronin, having momentarily forgotten about the itching eye the moment he entered the spaceship, immediately lit up upon hearing the question.

  “E-engine room?! Are you serious?! Are you sure that's ok?”

  “Mr. Ravent made himself clear,” Pablo laughed, then began speaking in a fake monotonous voice, attempting to mimic the professor: "Mr. Maximus is to have free reign on my ship. But don’t, eh, under any circumstances let him move stuff around. Ahem, also make sure he washes his hands first. I don’t want my ship dirty.”

  I think I'm beginning to understand now… Ravent must be some sort of perfectionist or something… why else would he walk off the moment I said the word perfect?

  They didn’t have to walk long before they were in the engine room, and Ronin immediately spotted two large fusion reactors, sleekly integrated into the floor. The two engines stood in the middle of a series of panels and pipes, and there were numerous cables running in-between them and the metal plated floorboards. Likely, the cables transferred the power, and the pipes carried the fuel and cooling fluids. Pablo and Ronin moved closer, receiving nods from a couple of men in lab-coats as they did.

  “Over there, you can see the name and edition of the engine,” Pablo said, pointing towards a corner of one of the machines.

  In small letters, engraved into the metal, it read:

  “Westein-3416C-RR”

  “A Westein? Aren’t those the old engines used by transport ships?”

  Pablo nodded. “True, but these two have been modified by Mr. Ravent. By applying new design solutions, updated software and better materials, these two bad boys have been upgraded from something installed on a rock hauler, into something more commonly seen on a racing ship. You’ll see once we start moving”

  As Ronin and Pablo, with the help of one of the technicians, discussed the various engine components, the light in the room turned red as the voice of the captain sounded over the speakers.

  [Prepare for engine activation in T minus 60 seconds.]

  The technician hurried off to help his colleagues as more and more parts on the engines began turning on and ramping up.

  With a soft HUM, the two machines fully activated and the red light in the room turned orange.

  [Running pre-launch diagnostics. Stand by… Power supply nominal.]

  It was barely noticeable, but Ronin felt a slight shift in movement.

  What kind of inertial dampeners must they have?! This is crazy! I barely feel the ship moving at all.

  “Alright buddy, where do you want to go next? The bridge?” Pablo asked, waggling his eyebrows.