With the death of the Princess, the last few days have been grim. While life changes along with the demeanor of Premderia's people, there is one who continues to show his ambitions despite being diagnosed with the deadly premderian disease known as Acruna. At only twelve years of age he shows more spirit than those twice as old. Inside the cabin, there is Joran who rests in his bed.
In his room, everything has to do with the Premderian military or being a warrior. There is a shelf of books of wars premderians have fought. Others are military manuals from weapons, equipment, vehicle, and the ship they use. Hanging on the ceiling are different model ships of Premderia both past and present. On a small table are little models of premderian soldiers and vehicles on a battlefield taking on a group of savage species. He'd have the savage species on the run.
There is also a shelf on the wall. It consists of many different pictures. In each one, they are of him on a Premderian military base with soldiers of a different variety. Most of them have another in them; Kalsor. Both of them have a similar smile and demeanor.
In the corner, he has two blades made of Premderium steel. Both sit with common-looking handles and sheaths. Nothing is special about them. Draped over them is a dark brown leather jacket that has a collar made of black fur. Laying in front of the swords is a black backpack and a couple of wrist devices.
He awakens from his sleep looking up at the ceiling. As soon as the crimson rays of sunshine through the window,he immediately turns over and starts coughing. Sitting up on the side of the bed he continues to do so the young boy stands up and does the same before getting dressed. He looks to his arm where the crimson bars are showing he is twelve. The thirteenth fills in and it didn't change his expression.
"It's going to be a glorious day," he says with exhaustion and no signs of happiness.
He goes out to the kitchen and set his on the refrigerator. There are many different foods inside, mostly consisting of raw meat. Joran looks to a large bowl that has large pieces of raw meat. First he takes it out and grabs hold of a large piece. Without hesitation, Joran tears into it with his teeth and devours the meat within minutes. The taste of raw meat is so satisfying, he desires more. He pulls out two more pieces just as big and puts the bowl back. As he eats, his eyes linger to the table where he sees a handwritten note. His teeth continue chewing down on the meat while reading the note.
Joran,
Sorry I couldn't be there to celebrate your thirteenth year coming into this world. You know the reason. Just don't cause any trouble with the Federation Cadets. It is their first day after all.
Kalsor
"No promises, father."
Joran turns his attention to another picture. This one didn't consist of him or his father. With him in the picture are several his age. None of them are blood but he looks at all of them like family in someway just by his small smile. All of them have a smile that is as rebellious as their attire.
The one in the center is Joran. On the right side of Joran is someone his age who conceals their face by turning it to his side and having a pistol in front of it. Next to that boy is a boy with black hair and a more serious demeanor. To the left of Joran is a girl who keeps their head shaved resting her arm on his shoulder. With the other arm, she has it wrapped around the waist of a girl with long jet black hair on top but have it shaved on the left side and the back. Next to the two girls are two boys.
Both different looks and personalities. One has extremely long light brown hair that goes down his back. In the back, he has a streak of hair blonde that he wrapped. He has a cocky smile and far more joyous than the colleague that stands next to him. The last is a blonde-haired boy with long hair like Joran but cleaner in appearance but show a smaller smile.
The last picture he sees is of his father. The other is a woman that Joran resembles slightly. She has blonde hair and keeps it very short that nobody can grab. He finds his thumb rubbing her face as it is all he has of her. More pictures show of Joran, his father, and the woman. All the way until his sixth year of life.
Joran holds out his hand and it starts to glow with Premderian energy. In turn it shapes into that of a Trenin. When the energy fades the Trenin is not of a crimson color they are known for. It is golden in color. The Trenin lets out a small caw before shifting into a different form. That of a Premderian. They turn into the same woman that are in the pictures with him and his father. Joran addresses her with proper manners.
"Mother," he says bowing his head
"You seem unpleasant son. Is it because your father is not here?" Joran shakes his head but she knows what is troubling him.
"The thought of Traur starting his first day at the academy is troubling you." Joran nods at his assumption. "That is not entirely it either, is it?"
"No... The thought that us all splitting apart with them doing different things while I do nothing, disturbs me."
"It is frustrating but they will always be around. All of you did make the sacred Premderian bond together and are bound as family. Something that can't be broken."
"Yet I already feel more alone than I have ever felt and it is troubling. It is even more frustrating seeing them go for their ambitions while I am not allowed."
"Your chance will come, my son. Just be patient."
"I am, mother..." Joran's words have tension within them. "Forgive me…. I lose myself…"
"It is alright, my son. I understand your frustrations."
"No you don't…" Joran doesn't say anything more about it and won't let his mother say anything either. "I assume you would like to wander the planet for your search of this darkness."
"It is important I do, my son."
Joran nods and opens the door. She shifts back into her other form and venture towards the mountains. He closes the door and finishes eating his raw meat then making a mug of milk. Without taking a pause he drinks all of it. He fills the mug once again before heading to the living room where there is a decent size screen. With the remote, he turns it on and goes to a search bar for files. He scrolls down to one labeled as Bodgar versus Kalsor. The video is dated from a year ago. He clicks on the file and sits down on the couch while it loads.
On the screen come up a video. He sees his father, Kalsor, who is now in his early forties. He dressed in nothing but black short shorts and white hand wraps while standing shirtless in a large ring made of stone that has four red ropes on each side. The cameras show the crowd consisting of thousands of premderians gathered in the Masipolt arena. Kalsor has a confident smile while staying loose.
The camera change to his opponent, who is Bodgar. He dressed in longer shorts but have his hands wrapped the same way. He'd sport a mohawk that is short on top but on the back of his head is long. All over his body, he has multiple tattoos. His expression is far more serious.
The two fighters meet in the center and have the official go over the rules. Kalsor looks up at him with confidence while his opponent, Bodgar, tries to stare a hole through him. When the official ask for them to shake hands, Kalsor immediately puts his fist out. Bodgar touches it but does so with a quick word to Kalsor.
"That title is coming home to me," he tells Kalsor.
Kalsor smile and nods before going to his end of the ring. He shakes out his arms and gets them loose one more time before getting his fists up. Bodgar has his right fist up while swinging his left side to side, keeping it low. The gong sounded and the crowd is already applauding.
Bodgar walks towards the older Premderian. Kalsor rushes towards him and closes the gap much quicker. Nobody expects what happened next. Joran has seen it many times over but still clench his fists when it did. Kalsor strike with a left kick to the leg. He taps Bodgar with a jab. Bodgar throws an uppercut with his left while Kalsor comes forward. Kalsor throws a straight right at the same time and is faster.
Both punches land, but there is a difference in impact. Kalsor blocks Bodgar's uppercut with his left hand absorbing what has been a destructive uppercut. For Kalsor's punch, straight right, it strikes Bodgar on the chin and knocks him back stumbling. With it, the crowd erupts from the sight.
Kalsor steps back but charges forward just as fast while Bodgar gets on his feet bent over. He tackles his large opponent into the fence and begins unleashing a barrage of uppercuts. Bodgar cover-up, and try elbowing Kalsor but it does nothing. Kalsor locks his arms around the waist and takes him down to the ground. Again the crowd shows how happy they are to see Kalsor score with his offense.
Having his opponent on his elbows and knees cover-up work for Kalsor. He stays on top of Bodgar and continues raining down punches. Bodgar scramble to his back and Kalsor is relentless with the barrage. The giant gets on his back and push Kalsor away with his legs and try sitting up. Kalsor rain down a heavy right that strikes hard on the chin of Bodgar. Everyone sees it and thinks the giant is out but far from it. As Kalsor pounce on him, Bodgar locks his arms around him and try catching his breath. The crowd is still crazy.
Kalsor shakes off the grip and starts pounding on the right side of his body. Bodgar uses everything he has and push Kalsor away, and get back up as fast. Kalsor stays on him and grabs him tight. He presses Bodgar into the corner and begins kneeing him in the back of the legs.
The video pause abruptly. Joran takes the remote and tries to start it again but the screen stands frozen. He tries a few more times before a black helmet that has a face mask and crimson eye shield. Skulls of different species appear around the edge of the screen followed by an explosion behind the helmet.
"That's not funny, Doc!" Joran yells and gets a voice his age responding.
"Why am I laughing then?" He asks and Joran is silent. "Just wanted to let you know, I got the meeting."
"You got it?"
"The Federation Government likes my designs and I have a meeting with the Grand Overseer today. Soon fewer bodies and families will mourn for losing their loved ones because my bots will be doing all the fighting."
"Can't say I am surprised, Mildral. Your designs are pretty good."
"Just pretty good?"
"When they come across a real formidable army like the ones in the East Quadrants, they will truly be tested."
"Like politics, I will have to disagree with you. However, that is not the only reason I called." Joran raises an eyebrow. "Do you wish to see it?" He asks and Joran has his interest show. "I thought so."
On the screen come up something that Joran finds very intriguing. A black suit of armor that is not thick or thin. It has multiple ranges of weapons on it. On the right arm, it shifts into a cannon. The shoulder guards have two gatling style rifles. Equipped to the back are two triple barrel missile launchers. They move up and station themselves above the gatling guns. The last feature sees two blades made of premderian steel extract from the wrist.
"You finished it?"
"Just this morning."
"How long does the power last?"
"A full day after several simulations in battle with the battery cells I created."
"And after?"
"I estimated about six hours on my own."
"I bet that you can go longer if you pushed yourself beyond what you calculate," Joran says to him while keeping a small smile. "How would it fair against the one I had designed?" He asks and there is silence for a moment. "It is alright to tell me."
"You and your suit were defeated."
"Interesting. How long did I last, Mildral?"
"On average you and your suit lasted on average of an hour."
"Average?"
"I ran the simulation more than once. Each time you and your suit were defeated."
"How many times did you run the simulation?"
"Two hundred and fifty times," he replies and Joran watch as videos of the different simulations come up on his screen.
It shows the suit his friend sent him designs of. A different style of armor charge at it. The color is a very dark grey color with red and gold lining. The armor has wings shaped like razor-sharp feathers. They are crimson, shining like premderium steel is known for doing. Strapped on it's back are two swords. In its hands are two rifles that have larger than normal barrel sizes.
The two rifles fire off a red beam with a yellow swirl around it. The fight pause and show the numbers of how powerful the beam is. After the video presumes and watches as his friend's armor dodge the attack. The simulation shows the devastation as they destroy the rocks behind him.
Mildral's suit fired off several shots with his Gatling guns. Joran's armor takes flight and dodges the attacks.
"This was by far the best simulation you and your armor conducted against me and my armor."
"How long did it last?" Joran asks as he continues watching as his armor draws its blades.
"Just over two hours. However, my suit was drained fully when it came to the battery cells."
Joran watch as Mildral's armor draws its two blades. The two clash their blades several times. Both glow them. The armor of Jordan's design is far more aggressive in the attacks. Above the ground crimson vines emerge and start trying wrap around Joran's armor. He cut through the vines but slowly they wrap around them until Joran's armor can't move, and is unable to move.
The video didn't end as there is more. Joran watches as his armor break through the vines with massive crimson energy. Again the video pause showing the calculation of energy Joran gives off with his armor. The level that it shows makes Joran smile while watching the final reading.
"I think your computers exaggerate my abilities as a Premderian."
"When have you known my machines to be wrong?" He asks and Joran shrug with a smile. "I have known you since our sixth Premderian year in life. You may not be the greatest Premderian fighter, not even close to your father. Not yet at least, but you are the least predictable out of all the ones I know."
"You know only a handful, Doc," he says and both have a small laugh. "I have to get going, school is going to start soon."
"I didn't realize you are enrolled in the Federation Cadet Academy."
"I am not."
"Why go? You already know more than a fifth-year does."
"But I don't know everything that I need to, to become the best. If your simulations show two hundred and fifty times you defeated me, then I am not the best. More than one Premderian can defeat me. Imagine how many in the galaxy are stronger. You know I won't be satisfied until I reach my limit."
"Which will get you killed quicker if you are not careful," Mildral says to him before the transmission ends and the screen goes black.
"Don't be so quick to assume that," Joran says before suddenly coughing, and cover his mouth. He feels something in his hand that is not of his saliva. When removing it he sees small dark spots of blood in them. "Maybe."