Morning mist enveloped Batu Ampar Port, Batam Island.
From behind the fog emerged an old war jong.
The ship flew no flag. Bore no name.
At the helm stood a lean but muscled young man, face pale, wrapped in wounds not yet fully healed. Who knows how many weeks he had drifted on the ruthless sea.
Rakai Saloka.
Body full of wounds, hunger, and tightness.
When the ship touched the Batu Ampar dock with a heavy thud, several dock workers stopped.
"Sea corpse?" one muttered.
"No," another whispered. "Corpses don't steer themselves."
Rakai threw the rope. His hand trembled, but the knot was neat. He stepped onto the dock, knees buckling briefly. He closed his eyes a moment, refusing to fall.
A port guard approached, spear lazily rested.
"Ship's name?" he asked.
Rakai stared long at the jong.
"None yet," he finally answered.
The guard raised an eyebrow. "Owner?"
"Me."
"Crew?"
Rakai swallowed.
"One."
The guard snorted. "You're lucky Batu Ampar doesn't care about strangers."
PORT HEALER NAMED KIRANA
Rakai knew what he needed first.
Not a shipwright. Not an arms dealer.
He needed a healer—the port healer who sews torn flesh.
Rakai asked around Batam's people, scouring every corner of Batu Ampar port. Every person gave one name.
"Find Kirana," said a fish-selling woman upon seeing Rakai's wounds.
"She's the best healer here."
Kirana's hut stood at the port's edge, half-hidden behind broken crates.
When Rakai entered, bitter herbs mixed with iron assaulted his nose.
A woman, beautiful and about his age, stood with her back to him.
Black hair tied simply. Slender, graceful body, yet her stance… ready.
"If you came to die, treat your wounds yourself."
Rakai gave a weak smile. "If to live?"
Kirana turned, eyes sharp. Too sharp for an ordinary healer.
"Sit," she ordered.
She unwrapped Rakai's bandages one by one, showing no pity. Her hands quick, cold, certain.
"Long swords," she muttered. "Two. And more than one opponent."
Rakai held his breath as she poured potion onto the wounds.
"Crew?" Kirana asked.
"Drowned."
Kirana paused.
"You're captain?"
"Not yet," Rakai answered honestly. "But I will be after this."
Kirana gave a small snort. "People who say that usually die faster."
Rakai looked at her while enduring the pain.
"I won't die."
Silence. Then darkness. Rakai fainted.
---
He woke in the afternoon, opened his eyes, saw all wounds freshly bandaged.
"From your face I know you want something. What do you want from me?" Kirana asked directly.
"What kind of healer questions a patient who just woke up like that," Rakai replied softly.
"I know you have no money to pay for this treatment." Kirana folded her arms.
"Obvious, huh?" Rakai laughed weakly.
"Of course. How will you pay me?"
"I want you to join me," Rakai said.
Kirana laughed shortly. "You don't even know me, and your ship has no name."
"Exactly. I want someone who can take care of me and the future crew."
"I want to build it from zero."
He spoke while holding back pain.
"That's your only offer?" Kirana asked.
"I promise you'll get more than just port-healer pay."
Kirana stared long. She knew her port income could no longer be relied on, though she liked helping people.
"I'm a healer," she said finally. "Though I also know how to kill."
She drew a short knife from behind the table, movement fast, precise.
"If I join, one condition."
"What?" Rakai asked.
"No one dies. And I control the ship's finances."
Rakai nodded. "Fine, Miss Healer. My name is Rakai. Rakai Saloka."
"You already know mine, right?"
For the first time, Kirana gave a faint smile.
---
Night fell on Batu Ampar.
Rakai sat on deck, accompanied by Kirana cleaning her knife.
His father's two long swords lay between them.
"You fight with two swords?" Kirana asked.
"Since childhood."
"You'll attract many enemies."
Rakai gazed at the sea. "I'm looking for them."
"Idiot," Kirana said.
For the first time since the hell-like tragedy, Rakai laughed a little.
In that forsaken port, the nameless ship began gathering its soul.
TWO MEN, ONE PROBLEM.
Morning on Batam came with different sounds from the open sea.
Not crashing waves, but merchants' shouts, gamblers' curses, and laughter from people living off daily small chaos. After days of stitches, bitter potions, and Kirana's scolding every time he tried lifting heavy loads, Rakai was finally strong enough to walk far.
"Don't die on the road," Kirana said while tying her hair. "I'm lazy to stitch you twice."
"That's how healers give encouragement?" Rakai asked.
"That's how unpaid healers do it," Kirana replied flatly.
They walked the island's east side, passing wild markets growing without royal permission. In such places, law was unwritten.
And there Rakai heard wood clashing and long curses.
---
GAMBLING TABLE
Under a large ketapang tree, a gambling table lay overturned.
Coins scattered. Wooden cards trampled.
Two men wrestled on the ground.
"YOU HID CARDS!"
"YOU CAN'T COUNT, SHRIMP BRAIN!"
The first man was huge, broad shoulders, hair carelessly tied. He held a short iron rod—former anchor handle—and tried to smash his opponent.
The second was thinner, sly-eyed, agile like a weasel. He dodged while laughing.
"You should have lost!" he said.
"That's fate!"
"Your fate today is death!"
The crowd cheered. Gambling is always better with blood.
Rakai stopped.
Kirana sighed. "I smell stupidity."
"Two stupid men," Rakai corrected.
---
When the big man swung the iron, Rakai stepped in.
He caught the wrist.
CRACK.
Iron fell.
The crowd went silent.
"Hey!" the big man yelled. "This is my business!"
"But you two almost killed each other. Two choices: one dies, one goes to prison," Rakai said calmly.
Both froze.
"He cheated me!"
The thin one cut in fast, "I just got lucky consistently."
Kirana massaged her temple.
Rakai looked at the thin one. "You?"
The man grinned. "Name's Wira Lelana. Navigator… formerly."
Rakai then stared at the big one.
"Bagaspati Karang," he answered gruffly.
"Deck guard. Head breaker. And he owes me."
"You owe me!" Wira shouted.
They almost jumped at each other again.
"Enough," Rakai said.
His voice wasn't loud.
But firm.
For some reason, both stopped.
---
"You fight over these few coins?" Rakai asked.
"My pay is small," Bagaspati said.
"I have to pay rent," Wira said.
"Those are indeed two hard things," Kirana muttered.
Rakai smiled faintly. It had been a long time since he smiled.
"Want work?"
The two men looked at each other.
"What work?" Wira asked suspiciously.
"Ship," Rakai answered.
"Name?"
"None yet."
Bagaspati laughed hard. "You serious?"
"I'm always serious," Rakai said.
"And pay?"
Rakai shrugged. "Life. Sea. Treasure. And a chance to make people like you even more hated by the kingdom."
Silence.
Then Wira laughed.
"Crazy," he said.
Bagaspati scratched his chin. "If I join… can I hit him again later?"
"If he cheats. Yes," Rakai answered.
"Deal," Bagaspati said, extending his hand.
"Fine, I'm in. But I won't gamble with idiots like you," Wira said, shaking with an annoying smile.
---
FOUR PEOPLE TOWARD ONE SHIP
As they walked away, Kirana approached Rakai.
"You recruit crew from a gambling table?"
"They need work," Rakai answered. "And they're brave."
"You're insane."
"Maybe."
"I have to share a ship with people like that?"