Savior of His Kind (Sidus Book 3): LitRPG Series - Dan Sugralinov - E-Book

Savior of His Kind (Sidus Book 3): LitRPG Series E-Book

Dan Sugralinov

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Beschreibung

I am Carter Riley, and until a month ago, I was destitute and weak. That is, until my life took a dramatic turn and I miraculously found myself on Sidus, a galactic space station where members of those alien civilizations that have proved their worth can coexist and collaborate. I became the First of My Kind and humanity’s chosen protector — titles bestowed upon me by the Sidus Mind to honor my unique achievements. Along with that, I became a Triad Dragon, an Institute agent, and incredibly wealthy to boot. Oh, and I got a girlfriend too: the sister of the president of Earth. Of course, life is rarely straightforward, and I’ve since been swiftly delivered back to where I started — right at the bottom. To fix things, I’m going to have to assemble a motley crew of losers and deliver some justice. And while we’re at it, probably save humanity. Or maybe the entire galaxy. Why not?

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Inhaltsverzeichnis

From the Author

Chapter 1

A Special Branch of Evolution

Chapter 2

Raptorian Gratitude

Chapter 3

The Hunting Guild

Chapter 4

A Dangerous Emotion

Chapter 5

Star Hydra

Chapter 6

The Font of Wise Words

Chapter 7

The New Boss

Chapter 8

The Missing Shuttle

Chapter 9

The Sky in Diamonds

Interlude 1

Kur’lyk Anak Chekbi

Chapter 10

The Nemertines

Chapter 11

Find and Destroy

Chapter 12

The Supreme Council

Chapter 13

Outlaws

Chapter 14

The Nightmare Planet

Chapter 15

The Devastators

Chapter 16

The Precursors’ Relics

Chapter 17

Xenna

Chapter 18

The Intelligent Life Detector

Chapter 19

All Alone

Chapter 20

Abyss

Chapter 21

Unaffordable

Chapter 22

The True History of the Galaxy

Chapter 23

The Tembians

Chapter 24

Savior of His Kind

Epilogue

About the Author

Dan Sugralinov

Savior of His Kind

SIDUS

Book#3

Magic Dome Books

Sidus

Book #3: Savior of His Kind

Copyright © Dan Sugralinov 2024

Illustrators © Sviatoslav Gerasimchuk, Rostislav Aksyonov 2024

Cover Design © Valentin Grunichev 2024

English translation copyright © Simon Hollingsworth, Joe Millward 2024

Proofreading: Scott Pearson

Copyediting: Hilary Doda

Published by Magic Dome Books, 2024

Anschrift: Podkovářská 933/3, Vysočany, 190 00

Praha 9 Czech Republic IC: 28203127

All Rights Reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the shop and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any correlation with real people or events is coincidental.

New and upcoming releases from

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From the Author

It’s with a bittersweet feeling that I announce the final book in the Sidus series. This marks my first foray into space fiction, despite having penned about 30 novels to date. It’s somewhat ironic, considering my childhood heroes were Robert Sheckley and Eric Frank Russell, whose books I read until they fell apart. Yet, life has its own twists and turns.

Each time I contemplated writing about space, inspired by Star Trek, Star Wars, The Expanse, Halo, and the cherished books of my youth, other circumstances, ideas, and commitments intervened, and space was put on hold for better times. Additionally, my publishers consistently suggested that space fiction was lagging behind other competitive genres, showing little interest.

Everything changed three years ago when I was invited to join Sidus Heroes—a gaming startup with formidable founders and immense potential through blockchain technology. I became the lead writer of the Heroes of Sidus game universe, creating from scratch the galaxy’s history, alien races, their customs, cultures, societal structures, native planets, colonies, rare resources, mechanics, and so forth, a task I continue today.

Currently, a series of games are in development within this universe, including Nidum (Sidus Heroes), Xenna, Tembazar, Asterally, among others still in pre-production. Reflecting on all this, I remembered my dream and envisioned the stories that could be told in this universe. The possibilities took my breath away. I was so enthused that, setting everything aside, I wrote the plot for the series about Carter Riley in just a few days and presented it to the founders of Sidus.

In that first draft, Carter Riley didn’t become “First of His Kind” right away. He faced a long and arduous journey through Earth’s slums, the Asteroid Belt, and the Sidus Arena. However, after discussions with the Sidus Heroes team, we decided to spare Carter some hardship and grant him something that set him apart from ordinary Earthlings. What happened next is already known to you—Carter activated the Precursor artifact and obtained a relic mod, accelerating his journey to true space adventures.

In this final book of the trilogy, Carter’s story gains such momentum that new locations and planets change almost every chapter. This was a deliberate choice to showcase at least a part of the vast game universe covered by the Heroes of Sidus.

I hope you enjoy reading Savior of His Kind as much as I enjoyed writing it, journeying with Carter and his diverse crew to various corners of the galaxy.

Look to the stars.

Your author,

Dan Sugralinov

Chapter 1

A Special Branch of Evolution

“IRASCIBLE” HAD BEEN MY MIDDLE NAME when I was young, for I was the epitome of irascibility. “Captain Hothead” was what my boxing coach used to call me when I was a kid, long before I became an actual captain in the army.

Life, however, taught me to manage my angry outbursts. I learned that it wasn’t a hot head you needed in a fight at all but a cool one. I only learned these lessons the hard way, of course. All it had taken was one court ruling, and I’d lost my right to see my daughter whenever I wanted. All because of a fight with my wife’s lover — a fight I’d lost!

Now, as I started to recognize the neighborhood around me, the neighborhood housing the Rare Artifacts Shop, I was beginning to cool down and regain my ability to think straight.

Kur’lyk Anak Chekbi wasn’t at the shop when I arrived. Instead, the role of the shopkeeper was being performed by a robotic hologram that was persistently trying to sell me loot boxes, a new form of gambling. So I went outside to wait. I was too restless to stand still, as my emotions needed a release, so I walked around the block again and gathered my thoughts.

Here I was, a level-one citizen of Sidus. Except I wasn’t a universally respected raptorian, ogya, or voltrone, but a lowly human, a species despised by all aliens. And I was about to face the honorable Kur’lyk Anak Chekbi, whom I suspected of having ordered the yuyai to kill me. Anak Chekbi wasn’t just anyone, but a member of the Supreme Council and a level-twelve merchant. Which of us would the Council be more likely to believe?

What was left for me? Deal with the kur’lyk personally? What would that look like? I show up at the shop out of the blue and start making claims and threats? Nonsense. Sidus prevented everyone from inflicting physical harm on others, Anak Chekbi was hardly likely to invite me into their pocket dimension where that would be possible, and I didn’t have a dimension of my own.

Anyway, what proof did I have that the kur’lyk was involved with either the events that had transpired on Agoni or the yuyai abductions? If the matter were to make it in front of the Mind or the Supreme Council, I had nothing to give them, especially if I wanted to keep my First of His Kind status a secret.

Common sense won the day, and I had mostly cooled down when Lexa’s cooing voice rang out in my head. “Honey, I’m all done here, and I’m heading to Sidus. I trust you’ve already broken up with Chrissy?”

Lexa had been hounding me to hook up since we’d been back to Earth, but as I had seen it, I was still bound by my relationship with Christina van der Vijver. She had been my Arena partner and, as it turned out, a Triad infiltrator. I was now a Dragon myself, a leader in the powerful criminal organization, but I was still upset and frustrated at how easily Chrissy had managed to gain my trust. She had seemed so sincere. I had no intention of remaining with her any longer but wanted to end it the right way.

When I replied, telling Lexa I had only just finished viewing the Martian cave video logs retrieved from the helmet of Karpovich’s colleague Ulsen, her tone changed. She had missed my conversation with Karpovich, so I had to tell her that the head of the Institute had lied to me. I explained my suspicions about the logical chain of linked events — the deaths on Mars that had started it all, Karpovich’s corrosion, the yuyai kidnappings, and the attack on our shuttle when orbiting Agoni. Karpovich had given the name corrosion to the ailment that was supposedly slowly killing him. He had definitely looked unwell, even withered, but I only now realized that it could have easily been makeup or a disguise, or even just the effects of old age.

“Right...” Lexa said thoughtfully. “So, Karpovich lied to you about what happened on Mars, and you think his illness — or whatever he calls it — is connected to what happened to your friends?”

“Exactly,” I replied, watching my hamster, Tiger, in his cage. He was awake but seemed lethargic. The spinner, the extraterrestrial parasite whose mother I had battled with in the cave on Agoni, was probably the reason. It was currently hidden from the all-seeing Sidus Mind inside the hamster’s body.

“And you think that, because Karpovich behaved the same way as your friends behaved while they were under yuyai mind control?”

“Well, yes!” I exclaimed so loudly that some passing kakkerlaks chirped and scurried away. “He kept repeating the same thing over and over, as if his brain had seized up!”

“Hold on, I’ll take a look for myself,” Lexa said, before falling silent for a couple of minutes. When she returned, she said, “Carter, don’t you think that your conclusions are based on utter nonsense? What’s so strange about someone saying he’s ‘fine’ after a fall?”

“First of all, he said ‘we,’ not ‘I.’ Second, he repeated the same thing several times.”

“Perhaps he was in shock.” Lexa sighed, then fell silent again for a while. “All right, let’s say you’re right. You think that Karpovich’s corrosion did not actually come from him touching the Precursors’ Artifact, right?”

“Right. Irwin, Shaq, Hope, and Yuto — none of them have ever seen the artifact, but they could be sick too. The symptoms are just too similar. And the pair of yuyai as well, judging by their behavior on the frigate,” I continued, musing aloud. “It’s probably nothing to do with the artifact.”

“If you’re right, then the two raptorians who stole the frigate from Hang — and Da’ari Ri’kor and Kur’lyk Tenzin Kongbu, whom we saved — would also be infected with corrosion. We thought we’d freed them from the yuyai’s clutches, but it looks like they still need our help. I’ll try to find them. But keep in mind that if they’re on Sidus, the Mind will have checked them out and declared them healthy.”

“If the Mind is capable of detecting it...” I snorted, recalling that I’d snuck the spinner onto Sidus. “It comes down to what this corrosion actually is.”

I wanted to tell Lexa about the rock Karpovich had leaned over in the helmet video but kept it to myself. As far as I knew, for now, the only link between all those suffering from corrosion was the kur’lyk merchant Anak Chekbi.

I reminded Lexa of this, and she said, “Just wait for me before you go see the kur’lyk, honey, or you’re going to make a total mess of everything.”

“I’m already here,” I replied, a little embarrassed.

“What?!” Lexa’s shriek made my brain ache and my skull vibrate. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing yet; he’s not here. I’m waiting for him to turn up.”

“Get out of there right now!” Lexa began by shouting but then immediately faltered and changed her tone to something much more gentle and affectionate.

Her cloying tone was ridiculous, and I replied curtly, “I’m not going to do a thing until you get here, period. And don’t you go lecturing me, or I’ll remember who stole my hamster!”

Tiger perked up as if he’d understood me and trotted off to run in his wheel. Lexa ended our call with a chuckle.

I walked away from the Rare Artifacts Shop, deciding to make good use of the time. I could close my contract with Raptorian Tukang Djualan and even meet with his guest, Bijak Djakhat. Then I’d hand over Rehegua Ubama’s cornerstone to his pride, confront Christina, find my Institute colleague who was investigating the missing liner that had been found on Sidus, and figure out what the Supreme Council planned to do with the thirty thousand humans who had suddenly appeared along with an entire planetoid.

My head was now spinning from the amount on my plate, and I placed my anger at the kur’lyk and my determination to expose him not just on the back burner but several burners behind that one.

I would be foolish to walk into the Raptorian Quarter, with its overflowing acid swamp, so I rented one of the flying disks that voltrones used to travel around Sidus. As I flew, I remembered the reward I’d received for the Protector of His Kind achievement, and I studied the mod. It resembled one half of a dangerous-looking razor blade.

Precursors’ Sword

A genetic modification relic.

When used, permanently embeds a relic-class living weapon into its host’s genetic code.

The living weapon is activated by either mental command or implicit wish — to be confirmed. It materializes from an ethereal metal, a substance that can be synthesized from extraterrestrial ether. Once formed within a dimension, this material has unprecedented strength and an atomic structure that allows the weapon to exist simultaneously in two states — as both energy and matter.

This living weapon adapts to the owner’s fighting style and personal preferences. Genetic integration allows the weapon to develop new skills and techniques, drawing from the owner’s combat experience.

Requires energy for operation. The ethereal metal extracts energy from the environment at a rate of 4.17% per hour.

Requirements: Galactic Achievement — First of His Kind

Estimated value: 900 Sidus coins

Unlike after I’d acquired the Precursors’ Shield, I used this relic mod immediately. The blade crumbled to dust and sank into my hand, disappearing beneath my skin, tickling as it went. My arm began itching, then my shoulder, neck, and back, and then my entire body followed. I didn’t as much feel as know that trillions of tiny programmed particles were now being embedded into my nervous system, restructuring my cells so that the living weapon would activate instantly, at the slightest hint of need.

In which hand would it appear? What shape would it be? How much would it weigh?

Still slicing through the air on the flying disk, I swung my arm, swishing it first one way, then the other. A narrow, flat blade, about a half meter long, translucent and silvery, appeared as an extension to my right arm, just as I had imagined it. I shook my arm and felt the hilt in my hand. I swung the blade, and another — thinner and longer than the first — extended from my left hand instead. I grinned from ear to ear, my tongue sticking out with delight. Sorry, Last Leg, but it’s time to bow out. Or I’ll return you to Ubama if they get reincarnated.

I experimented further, and I managed to shape the weapon into a two-handed sword, about two and a half meters long. Even at that size, the weapon was weightless, and I could wield it easily for days at a time.

“Careful, human!” an angel sang out fearfully as they flew by.

“Sorry, I was getting carried away!”

“These newcomers arrive, buy up all these mods, and then just swing them around carelessly!” they grumbled and flew off.

Concealing my new weapon as I flew over and past the Arena, I pictured myself using my new weapon there. Arena battles would be great now. Probably. But I would have to put that off, for I had more important matters to attend to.

Tukang Djualan’s house resembled a giant hockey puck submerged in a swamp and was covered in thousands of jewels of every imaginable kind. It was not tended by one guard, like on my previous visit, but by three — the same bashful rehegua as before and two new, unfamiliar raptorians. They were little more than a meter tall and slender compared with the other members of their race. Both of the new guards were covered in an anthracite light-absorbing skin and strongly resembled velociraptors. Could they be pets? Or a genetic mod of some kind? Their profiles displayed nothing at all.

As I hovered in front of them on my disk, the two raptorians vanished into thin air, and the rehegua guard said, “A question-demand. Human Carter Riley. State the purpose of your visit to the home of the great master multiplier, Raptorian Tukang Djualan, and his guest, head of the Great House of the Djakhats, the great bufo, Bijak.”

“I am here to report on the completion of my contract.”

I thought I could feel the rustle of air at my sides, but I had already sensed that two raptorians, swift and agile like two black mambas, were standing not half a meter from me, ready to fight. With my rare genetic All-Seeing Eye mod, I was scanning the world around me, the mod detecting them quickly and discreetly.

“State the nature of this contract and the date and term of its implementation,” came a hiss directly in my ear, the sound accompanied by an acrid vapor.

“Explain what the great master multiplier could have to do with you, a pathetic weed from a backward planet,” came a burning barb from the other side.

“You are such xenophobes!” I said incredulously.

“Answer!” came the double hiss in response. The ensuing stench made my ears water.

The black raptorians were using modules that produced a voice-like sound to translate their scent-language. In the cage under my arm, the hamster had grown wary. He sniffed, looking carefully first to where one invisible raptorian was standing and then to where the other was hiding. Tiger seemed to be assessing the situation, his posture menacing.

Is there danger, my good friend? Are these creatures hostile? I heard a weak, feminine, childlike voice in my head.

No! I roared mentally. These are not hostile creatures!They are simply... creatures!

I don’t understand, my good friend, came the uncertain voice once more. These are bad creatures. They want to cause you harm. My friend, let me drink their vital energy.

The matriarch spinner, the entity that had tried to kill me back on Agoni and that had now become my friend, the mother of this young spinner, had spoken with me in thoughts that had felt like my own. Even then, I had been able to sense the maturity, the wisdom, and the experience of the entity in her “voice.” This new spinner, only recently and spontaneously born from her seed, had its own voice — the voice of a child. That made me wonder. On Agoni, the matriarch had crossbred her spinners with the local fauna. Could it be that this creature, having been a part of me, had acquired human features? That meant...

I will neutralize them now, my friend, the childlike voice said, now distinctly schoolgirl-like.

No, do nothing without my command! I strictly forbade it and shook my head.

The multitude of voices unceremoniously forcing their way into my head was putting me on edge — Chrissy, Lexa, and now this young spinner.

In the meantime, the spinner, which had taken up residence in Tiger’s body when it had left its own dimension, had returned to hiding. But it continued to monitor the situation. I knew this deep down, as though a strong and invisible connection had formed between me and the spinner. Tiger himself was nothing more to it than a source of vital energy and a refuge, a carrier under whose layer of tissue the spinner had made a temporary home.

“Answer!” came the next double hiss, and the acid vapor in both my ears made me wince.

“The contract was enacted to restore the operability of Tukang Djualan’s colony on the planet Agoni,” I replied. “The task is now complete.”

“Check that information, you piece of scrap,” one of the invisible creatures hissed at the rehegua guard.

“Correction-dissatisfaction: I am not a piece of — ” the rehegua began to complain.

“Shut it and do as you are told!”

The rehegua entered the house in silence, and I could clearly hear them sniffling with affront. It was a mental sniffle rather than a natural one, of course, but I could sense it clearly.

You see? They are no good, my friend, the spinner said, reminding me once more of its presence. Let me remove them from your dimension.

No!

But why not? Why? Why?

Because!

Because. I see. The spinner appeared satisfied with this reason and fell silent.

“Don’t move,” the second pitch-black raptorian hissed at me.

What was going on here? The situation felt much like a time back on Earth, before my Sidus life, when I had gone to see a friend to ask for a loan. There had been lots of noise outside their house, as well as robocops. It turned out my friend had just been robbed, and I was an instant suspect. An unemployed lowlife in a well-to-do district was always going to look suspicious. Back then, I had put up with it, for I understood the justification. Now, however...

My hands shot up simultaneously and grabbed the little raptorians by their necks. If they had been standard specimens, with necks like my thighs, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. But these two were different. Smaller. For a moment, it felt like I was holding two feral cats, struggling furiously to break free.

Pulling them toward me, I lifted them up and began tightening my grip. Both raptorians writhed in my hands, trying to slash me with their clawed hands and feet, but to no avail. Their invisibility began to slip away, like soot from an extinguished match.

“Tell me your names and the purpose of your inquiries!” I demanded. “Apologize for what you said about my weakness and backwardness!”

“Kema,” one said.

“Tian,” said the other in introduction.

“This is...”

“Our duty.”

The door to Tukang Djualan’s puck-shaped house swung open, and the decrepit old majordomo appeared on the threshold. He pulled back his hood, squinted his yellow snake eyes at us, and let out a thick red cloud of vapor, duplicating it in voice for good measure.

“Praise be to the u’raptos that someone has been found to rein you in, you cretins!” He didn’t use those exact words, of course; rather, he called them “raptorians suffering from terminal brain decay.”

“He took us by surprise,” the one who called themselves Tian hissed in protest.

“On Sarisuru, he would be feeding the tchachins by now,” Kema said, letting out a cloud of bright-red vapor.

“What are you saying? You brainless khitams are not on Sarisuru! Your security protocol is meaningless on Sidus!” the majordomo exclaimed. Looking over at me, they said indifferently, “Please return freedom of movement to these two khitams, Human Carter Riley. The master is ready to receive you now. Follow me.”

I was convinced that Tukang’s old majordomo hadn’t changed his opinion of me, even though I had saved their Great House from ruin and returned their cargo of nultillium and xenoether. Except then they turned to me and said, “I apologize sincerely for the conduct of these khitams. Their tribe is a specific branch of raptorian evolution. They are predatory, insidious, and extremely dangerous. Khitams are excellent fighters and spies and are often employed to guard the leaders of the Great Houses. These two, however, belong to the personal guard of the u’raptos. If word gets out about their disgrace, they will have to find themselves new employment.”

I understood from the Code that raptos had been the leaders of the raptorian clans before they had been unified by the u’raptos, the great leader of the Raptorian Empire. Or, as we’d say on Earth, the raptorian emperor.

Tukang Djualan’s house was surprisingly quiet, even though it was crowded. Servants scurried around, while khitam guards lurked in the shadows, waited by every door, and even clung to the ceiling. Reheguan sentries stood guard over the house like stone statues. Despite all of that, there was none of the businesslike bustle I had witnessed on my previous visit.

“This is not good for business,” the old majordomo grumbled in discontent. “It is a great honor to receive such a guest, but it’s not good for business.”

While the majordomo was leading me to the master, they told me that, in addition to a personal security detachment, Tukang Djualan and Bijak Djakhat had brought an additional sixteen khitams of the u’raptos into the house. The khitams had been assigned to the great bufo to protect the bufo from the dangers of Sidus. However, the majordomo suspected that the khitams were probably also spying for the u’raptos, making use of their ability to turn invisible. The fact that the old servant shared this information so readily suggested I really was on his good side now.

“Praise be to the u’raptos — the great bufo is leaving Sidus today,” they muttered without turning around. “They and the khitams of the u’raptos have brought trouble; not even a chimaru could handle it. The khitams sniff around the house, looking for any sign of treachery.”

“Incidentally, Bijak Djakhat would like to meet with me,” I said, recalling that a chimaru was a kind of animal commonly used as a mount on Sarisuru.

The majordomo stopped abruptly and turned when I said this. “Who? Who wants to meet with you?”

“Raptorian Bijak Djakhat. The great bufo.”

“Nonsense, human.”

“Rudeness is the rust that eats away at love,” I replied with the verbal flourish that my first sergeant had frequently used.

He would recite the phrase every time he punished the entire detachment for something ridiculous and used it once more besides — during the crossing of the frozen Antarctic in full dress, when he had heard someone using foul language.

“What would you know about love, you primitive human, with your low level of variability?” the majordomo said irritably, emitting a purple cloud of vapor, but they immediately calmed down. “Your species only needs two individuals to reproduce. And from what I hear, many of you are incapable of finding even a single mate in an entire lifetime.”

I recalled another one of my sergeant’s favorite sayings: Rudeness is but a manifestation of fear. He would make you do a hundred push-ups if he heard you curse and serve up a single pearl of wisdom while his victim struggled. “And do you know why?”

“I don’t, and I don’t want to. You talk too much, human. You weren’t nearly this talkative during our first meeting.”

“I’m going to tell you anyway. Sentient beings are rude when they’re afraid of not getting what they want. So, what is it you’re afraid of not getting?”

“I have no fear, primitive Human Carter, for we raptorians keep our emotions under control — ”

“Please let the great bufo know,” I interrupted, “that Human Carter Riley is here to meet with them. You have the right not to believe that such a meeting could be possible, but I believe you are obliged to fulfill my request and inform Bijak Djakhat that I am here.”

The majordomo didn’t say another word until we reached Tukang Djualan’s office.

This time, the office of the master multiplier looked completely ordinary. There were no expanses of swamp or scarlet-purple skies peppered with copper clouds.

“Big Cheese Carter!” Tukang Djualan greeted me, unable to conceal their emotions.

The raptorian rushed toward me. At first I thought they were glad to see me, but I was mistaken. The master multiplier’s feelings toward me were, in fact, the polar opposite.

Is there danger, my good friend? the spinner said, perking up.

For Sleepers’ sake, calm down! I thought, and the spinner fell silent again, looking reproachfully at me through Tiger’s eyes.

Why? the spinner inquired, and then answered themselves. Because. All right, my friend, I will not get in your way.

“Greetings, Big Cheese Tukang,” I said with a nod to the raptorian, maintaining my composure.

The flying platform they were standing on came to an abrupt halt about half a meter from me. The master multiplier’s snakelike eyes narrowed at me, glowing with hatred and death.

“Where is the Precursors’ Artifact, human?”

Chapter 2

Raptorian Gratitude

RAPTORIAN TUKANG DJUALAN, the great master multiplier, one of the thirteen members of the Supreme Council, drilled their narrowing, snakelike gaze into me, pupils solitary husks in lakes of lava, and bared their fangs. Everything about them screamed aggression, and even someone who had never seen an alien before would have been left with no doubt as to their intention.

On the other hand, my sergeant also used to say that outward displays of aggression were often signs of weakness and vulnerability. Tukang’s position was weak, for they had no evidence to suggest that I had stolen their property, so I answered calmly.

“And the best of health to you, raptorian. The Mind seized the Precursors’ Artifact when I returned to Sidus.”

Tukang had obviously expected that I would deny the accusations, but when they heard such an open confession, they were momentarily taken aback. Nevertheless, they quickly recovered from their surprise.

“How dare you decide to dispose of the property of the Great House of the Djualans without our permission?! You should have brought the artifact to me! Or not have touched it at all!”

That vaunted raptorian self-restraint was clearly a myth. I’d seen my fair share of these lizards, all of whom screamed, sputtered acid, and emitted deep-purple vapor. I was sure that should I remind Tukang of this, he would repeat the same old story about raptorians only letting their emotions show when it would give them some kind of advantage. Well, then.

“I should have, should I?” I asked, brows raised. “Are you saying there was a clause in our contract about extraction and retrieval of the Precursors’ Artifact? I don’t remember such a thing. Or about run-ins with extraterrestrial parasites? There was nothing about that either. Do I need to remind you of the clauses that do exist in our contract?

“The first objective was this: I was to initialize the backup power supply in the control center of the Agoni colony. That has been done. So give me my thousand coins. The second objective: I was to try to send the cargo barge back to Sidus with its load of mined nultillium and xenoether. Done, and then some — I didn’t just ‘try,’ I actually sent it. So, give me my percentage of its market value. Incidentally, how much does that amount to?”

“What has been done and what has not been done is still in question!” the master multiplier roared. “Where is the leader of the expedition? Where is his shuttle? Where is the equipment that was leased to you? What caused the delay? Why did you not return here the moment you left Agoni?”

For a moment, I was Carter from the slums of Earth, where letting a hurtful word or a sideways look go unanswered would mean the loss of a reputation that had taken many years to build. I took a noisy breath of the neutral Sidus air and spat at the raptorian’s feet, but I spoke calmly, simply stating the facts.

“Rehegua Ubama Oveveva is dead.”

“How convenient! The only member of the expedition in whose loyalty and honesty I have no doubt is dead! But you and that con artist Beverly survived, is that it? Suspicious!”

“Rehegua Ubama Oveveva is dead,” I repeated. “And it is your fault, raptorian. You concealed the fact that the planet was infected with parasites. The fact that I am still alive is nothing short of miraculous, and the direct result of Ubama’s sacrifice. Our shuttle was attacked while it was still in orbit. It was destroyed. The group survived, again by some miracle. The cheap equipment and weapons you gave us burned up in the atmosphere, but if honor means nothing to you, you can deduct their value from my reward.”

I held back my explanation about the delay, first letting Tukang digest everything else I had said.

We stared at each other for a good thirty seconds. Still, I had the upper hand, for I was not looking into their eyes but at Tukang Djualan’s only nostril, which emitted purple vapor. I wondered idly why evolution had given them only one hole to breathe through. What if it became blocked?

“I need you to repeat your words before the Mind, human,” they said, interrupting my thoughts. In that moment, I realized that they already knew everything I had said; their anger was indeed for show. But for what purpose? And then it hit me.

“I want to hear that when you took the artifact from its place, your thoughts were pure, and you truly intended to hand it over to me. I want to hear precisely what artifact it was that you took. I would like to remind you of the clause in the contract under which you are obliged to tell me everything related to the mission or pay a penalty. And, of course, there can be no talk of payment. The value of the damages you have incurred is simply too high.”

The trap was obvious, but its purpose was nevertheless unclear. As I tried to work out what they were trying to do, my brain immediately began to heat up, as it used to in my old life when I regularly played chess with my colleague Aron Kwon. My friend’s unflappable demeanor would become especially stonelike when he saw that he was about to checkmate me. In those moments, I would sense in my gut that the game was up. It was rare that I would figure out an escape after that, which in turn made me nervous and more likely to make mistakes. On this occasion, my premonition was stirring restlessly. I glanced around but saw no danger. And yet...

It was obvious that my thoughts had not been pure in the moment and that I had planned to take the artifact. It was clear that the Mind would discern this and tell Tukang and then Tukang would accuse me of theft. But what was the point of any of this? It was clear they were angry, for their Great House had invested in the rights to Agoni — not for the resources it offered but specifically to gain access to the Precursors’ Artifact. But there was something else as well. The clue lay in Djualan’s profession. They were the master multiplier, not the divider or subtractor, so it seemed most likely that they were setting me up so as to avoid paying me. They had already declared their goal but still needed to find the justification.

“That’s what I thought,” Tukang Djualan snorted as I was thinking. “You, human, are a thief!”

“Careful with your accusations, raptorian,” I said, with menace in my voice. “I swear to the Sidus Mind and Raptorian Tukang Djualan, present here, that once I landed on Agoni, I battled my way to the location of the Precursors’ Artifact in order to restore the colony’s operations. It is well known that extraterrestrial parasites demolish all sources of power. Without doing away with the parasites, I would not have been able to fulfill the terms of the contract I had concluded with Raptorian Tukang Djualan. Having discovered the matriarch of the parasites, who was guarding the Precursors’ Artifact, I fought her. And with the help of Rehegua Ubama Oveveva” — I was on thin ice here and needed to be careful with my exact words — “I defeated her.”

“There!” the raptorian exclaimed, interrupting me. “There! You defeated her. Well done, you’re a hero! Now go on, tell me about getting out of there! And don’t go touching what doesn’t belong to you!”

“I swear to the Sidus Mind and Raptorian Tukang Djualan, present here, that I touched the artifact purely out of curiosity. I had no plan to do anything with it apart from bringing it to Sidus.”

“What was your aim in bringing the artifact to Sidus?” the raptorian asked suspiciously.

“To ask the Mind what I should do with it.” Once again, that was not a lie. “I believe that an object of such importance cannot belong to one person alone. It should be the property of the entire Coalition.”

And then I realized I had made a mistake. The Mind hadn’t interjected once during my testimony, which meant it had detected no lies or contradictions in my statements. But Tukang didn’t need to find contradictions to prove his point. I thought I’d escaped his trap, only to fall into another. A trap within a trap.

“And what was this object?” he asked me knowingly. “Come on, Big Cheese Carter; you know! Tell me, for it was mine, and I don’t even know what kind of artifact was in there.”

A recipe book, a catalog of the Precursors’ household utensils, an information package with the works of an ancient poet... it made no difference what I said if it wasn’t the truth, as the Mind would catch me in any lie. But if I told the truth, Tukang would have a stroke — or whatever it was raptorians suffered instead. I was caught between a rock and a hard place and had only myself to blame.

“Space-flexing technology,” I admitted. “Allows you to transport an object to any point in the galaxy — I am not sure, but probably something of any mass.”

I knew for sure that it could be any mass, but there were size limits. A star or a large planet could not be transported, certainly, but an entire fleet, no problem. But they didn’t need to know that.

It took Tukang a moment to parse what I had said. They stood still for a while, trying to comprehend what precisely the Great House had missed out on. A matte film slid across over their eyes, and orange smoke drifted from their nostril, the vapor smelling of burnt paper. Finally, it clicked. Their eyes opened and flashed with a yellow flame.

“Any... mass... Any mass!”

“Come on, Big Cheese Tukang!” I said, and I slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be upset! The technology hasn’t been lost; the Mind has appropriated it. That means that when the time comes, all sentient beings on Sidus will be able to use the Space Flexor.”

“Precisely!” he roared. “Everyone! But it shouldn’t be everyone! You, you stinking human, your stupid brain doesn’t understand what you’ve stolen from the Raptorian Empire and the Great House of Djualan! You have no excuse, you stupid cretin!” Once again, I heard the raptorian word for “terminal brain decay.” “You might have fulfilled the terms of the contract, but the way you did it, it would have been better if you had just died on that planet!”

It didn’t look like Tukang Djualan was playing at all now. Their emotion was genuine and by no means for show. But they had no reason to be angry, and I explained that.

“Raptorian, you should know that a Precursors’ Artifact does not contain a specific package of information but all their knowledge.”

They tilted their head suspiciously and prodded me with a claw. “That is just speculation on the part of researchers!”

“It is not speculation, and you know it. The artifacts dole out portions of knowledge, and which package is given depends on the status of the one who receives the information. So, stop trying to bluff me because it just looks stupid. We both know that if I had simply left Agoni after restarting the colony’s power, and you had flown there yourself to retrieve the artifact, you would have received something different. Probably something insignificant. That’s why you sent me, because of my status as the First of My Kind. Not only that, but I had no way of predicting that the Mind would take the information package from me. I swear I didn’t know. If I did, I might not have flown to Sidus and would have contacted you first instead.”

“You ‘might’...” Tukang Djualan repeated the word. “I might give you a chance to avoid punishment, but first, you listen to what I have to say. As a member of the Supreme Council, I have been entrusted by the citizens of Sidus to make personal assessments of any citizen with a status lower than mine. My assessment might elevate a sentient to the top of the rankings, but it might also give them a negative value. I hope I don’t need to explain what that means?”

“I knew one raptorian who told me that for all of your kind, ratings and ranking mean nothing and that honor is the most important thing. I see you have a very peculiar view of honor, since you are so ready to walk away from your agreements and to ruin the life of anyone who doesn’t do what you expect of them.”

Tukang waved me away as if a bug they were about to crush had suddenly made a speech in its own defense.

“These are empty words. It is not for you, human, to speak of honor. Here is the chance I am giving you. Give me the rights to the frigate you found orbiting Agoni. By rights it is mine, as you found it orbiting my planet. For the moral damage I have incurred, I will withhold your contractual reward. You may contest this decision with the Mind if you wish, but you will be wasting coins on an appeal for nothing. For depriving the Great House of Djualan — and me personally — of aimaan, I sentence you to total forfeiture of your property, including your rights to the discovered frigate and the contents of its inventory, without limitation.”

I hadn’t heard the word aimaan before, but I instantly knew that it meant something like “hope and faith in a prosperous future.” Depriving a raptorian of their aimaan was a criminal offense.

Tiger either sensed the master multiplier’s aggressive tone or felt my rage, but he stared at the raptorian and squeaked something threatening. Tukang paused, then went on.

“The same applies to Human Beverly Sinclair. What is your decision, human?”

I had been in a state of shock before but had never experienced it as deeply as in that moment. I recalled how Lexa, Ubama, and I had gone to extreme lengths to return the valuable cargo to the Djualan family, which was dangerously close to ruin; how the hunter Ubama had sacrificed themselves and perished; how Lexa had given me her Air Wings and had been prepared to die herself. And all that had been just for this snake-headed freak to trample our names in the dirt and kick us out of Sidus?

My friend, the spinner said, reminding me of its presence. Is there danger? Is this an enemy?

“No.”

The spoken word came in unison with my own mental response to the little spinner. But from where? I hadn’t said it.

Tukang Djualan’s gaze turned to the front door. I thought it had closed behind me, but now there was an unfamiliar, stately, and rather lean raptorian standing inside it, about a head taller than Tukang.

Bijak Djakhat, Raptorian, Level-39 Great Bufo

Native planet: Sarisuru, Scorpio System 18, the Scorpio Constellation

Head of the Great House of Djakhat

“No, Tukang, that is a very bad decision,” Bijak Djakhat said, approaching us. “Is this what you call raptorian gratitude?”

“I have a business relationship with this human,” Tukang growled. “There are contractual terms and conditions; there are solid facts. Gratitude is an ephemeral notion.”

“Then you are doubly foolish,” Bijak Djakhat said with a grin. “After all, you are a raptorian with the rudiments of bufo skills, and you should have realized that Human Carter Riley is not someone the Raptorian Empire needs to antagonize. Quite the contrary. We would do well to be this human’s friend.”

Tukang might have been below Bijak Djakhat in the raptorian hierarchy, but they were in their own home, both directly and figuratively. They were one of the most important individuals on Sidus, while the head of the Great House of the Bijaks was only a guest.

“That is your opinion, honorable Bijak,” they said. “I stand by mine.”

Ignoring Tukang’s response, the bufo came right up to me and looked me in the eye. The vapor they released from their nostril was very light in color, almost transparent.

“First of His Kind, Protector of His Kind,” they said. “It’s odd that you don’t see that, Tukang.” They extended a hand, and I shook it. “I am pleased to make the acquaintance of one of the greatest representatives of your young civilization, Human Carter Riley. My name is Bijak Djakhat. I am the grandfather-uncle of Oran’Djakhat, whom you spared in battle. Such an act of mercy might seem a small thing in itself — perhaps evidence of weakness or an unwillingness to dirty one’s hands — but my grandnephew told me what you sacrificed to save his life. For this raptorian” — and he pointed at the now-silent Tukang — “your lost reward for that victory would have been nothing. But relative to what you had at the moment of the battle” — Bijak rubbed their hands together and then spread their arms out — “it was the equivalent of a million coins for Tukang.”

“What do you see in him?” the moneylender grumbled.

“You have smelled the variable nature of the future, and you are familiar with bufo discipline, Tukang, and with the infinite number of ways in which everything can develop,” Bijak Djakhat replied. “Even a worthless vagabond has several potential future paths to conquer the world or achieve greatness. For this particular human, however, almost every path is spectacular, grandiose, and majestic. But his different paths have different outcomes for you, Tukang. Here is what I want to say to you: you don’t want to live in a future where Carter is your enemy. I would be lying if I claimed that all of the paths would bring prosperity to the Raptorian Empire. But know this — if you banish Human Carter Riley from Sidus, you will not be robbing him of his opportunities and great future. You will simply harden his resolve against us and, perhaps, even Sidus itself.”

“But because of him, my Great House lost its aimaan!” Tukang objected.

“It’s because of him that your house has remained great,” Bijak Djakhat responded calmly. “But have it your way. I officially declare that I will cover all the losses incurred by the Great House of Djualan because of the actions of Human Carter Riley, and I call on the Mind to calculate them. If there truly are any, that is. In return, I would like you to lift all claims you have against Human Carter Riley and his comrades. His ranking must remain as it was before. The u’raptos will be notified of your actions.”

“No, no, great bufo Bijak, that is not — ”

“Enough,” Bijak cut them off. “The matter is closed.” Turning to me, they said, “As for you, Human Carter Riley, I will also cover the payments that Tukang Djualan was supposed to make to you. Do not, however, see this as an expression of my gratitude for saving my grandnephew. That would be dishonorable, for you fulfilled your contract and have earned your reward.”

“Thank you, Raptorian Bijak Djakhat,” I said. “I wasn’t counting on any reward when I spared your grandnephew. So, there is no obligation.”

“Then we are even.” They smirked. “I can see that in an incredibly short span of time, you will be capable of things of which this master multiplier — who would sacrifice their honor for a quick profit or to settle a grudge — could not even dream. And I hope that by then, you will have Oran’Djakhat by your side. I would like to appoint them as the official chronicler of your endeavors. They await the outcome of our meeting here in this house. The moment we’re done, they will be at your complete disposal. Promise me you will welcome them into your family.”

Such enthusiasm from the bufo and the imposition of this grandnephew on me made me cringe. What the fuck did I need them for? And in my family as well?

“Trust my foresight, Human Carter; Oran’Djakhat will prove most useful to you. I also give you Kema and Tian, the two khitams from the u’raptos guards. You are free to do with them as you please, but I will promise you that if you keep them by your side, they will prove useful.”

Both khitams then became visible. It turned out they had been standing by Bijak Djakhat’s side the entire time.

“What do I need them for?” I blurted out, glancing at the two little raptorians, who looked more like upright snakes than lizards. It looked like, under the guise of gratitude, this clever bufo was saddling me with a bunch of new dependents, and I’d be left wondering whether they were spies — or worse! “If I may, I will kindly decline such a privilege, honored bufo.”

“Do not insult me by refusing, human,” Bijak Djakhat replied. “I told you you could do with them as you please, even sell them for genetic material. But their presence will only enhance the positive variability of your future and lengthen certain lines. You do know what that means?”

“That they’ll save my life?”

“Yes, there is a chance of that. What is more, their lives are now in your hands. If they return to Sarisuru, the u’raptos will show them no mercy. They were disgraced today, you see.” Giving them a scornful glance, the bufo went on, “By you.”

“Thank you,” I replied, and unable to refrain, I quipped, “The reward has exceeded all expectations.”

“It is not a reward,” they replied just as calmly. Even Tukang Djualan’s ear openings perked up. “Your real reward awaits you at the Sidus Spaceport.”

He brought up a hologram showing a small, predatory-looking, boomerang-like spaceship.

Netherblade

Spacecraft

Class: Raider

Quality: Epic

Weapon type: Energy, kinetic, spatial

Additional combat modification: Destructive Pulse

A spacecraft created on Sarisuru using Precursor technologies.

The body of vessels of this class is made of hyperhardened tritanium with a unique molecular structure that increases its tensile strength while minimizing mass.

The spacecraft is equipped with the Destructive Pulse modification, which can deactivate the energy shields of enemy craft. It has high-efficiency intrasystem drives that run on antimatter and an improved hyperdrive that reduces processing requirements for travel.

Estimated value: 350,000 Sidus coins

Manufacturer: Melang

Owner: Human Carter Riley

Captain: Yet to be appointed

“That is an incredible vessel, Mr. Human Carter Riley!” Kema hissed.

“Quite splendid,” Tian concurred. “We won’t let you down, Human Carter Riley.”

I looked at them with irritation and snorted. I liked them better when they were insolent.

My friend, would you like me to get rid of them? the spinner inquired.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely to Bijak Djakhat.

Tiger the hamster squeaked, as if to say, “Yes.”

Only Tukang Djualan remained silent. They looked bewildered, but their gaze was filled with menace.

Chapter 3

The Hunting Guild

THE GREAT RAPTORIAN bufo Bijak Djakhat had already left us, and I paused before saying my own farewells to remind Tukang Djualan, “You still owe me, raptorian. One good turn deserves another.”

“What?” they asked sullenly, with false calm, the already-crimson vapor from their mouth taking on a deep-scarlet hue. The master multiplier was seething with rage. They really were not as good at controlling their emotions as they had previously claimed.

“Your people held me unceremoniously in a locked dimension before we first met,” I pointed out. “You agreed back then to compensate me for the moral damage and the inconvenience, plus you offered me a coin for every hour I had waited. That’s six in total. You said you’d deliver them after fulfillment of the contract.”

The raptorian grinned from one earhole to the other while my new bodyguards, the khitams Kema and Tiam, switched to stealth mode with a barely audible hiss. They put their claws out with a flourish and stood on either side of the raptorian, ready to attack.

Tukang Djualan pulled themselves together, and an almost humanlike smile replaced the gaping grin.

“You never cease to amaze me, Big Cheese Carter! You have just received almost five thousand coins from the bufo Bijak Djakhat for an allegedly completed contract on Agoni, two khitams from the personal guard of the u’raptos, the Netherblade raider, and a personal chronicler from the Great House of Djakhat, and you still demand some spare change?”

“It’s a debt that’s due, even if it was just a single coin,” I said with a shrug, genuinely surprised. “It is strange to hear such a thing from the master multiplier.”

Tukang reluctantly handed over the coins, not uttering another word as they marched us out of the office. The old majordomo was waiting for us in the hall and led us to the exit. I wasn’t expecting them to say anything, but before closing the door behind us, they grinned. “If I were you, human, I’d keep those khitams on a chain. Otherwise, they’ll be nothing but trouble.”

The response they received was a hissing from both sides of me. Two shadows rushed for the majordomo, but the door had already slammed shut. The disk I had traveled on was still hovering nearby, but when I glanced at it I doubted the three of us would fit on it together. We could have used a full-fledged flying platform.

“Allow me to assist, Big Cheese Carter!” With these words, someone tried to take Tiger’s cage from me.

I refused to let go, but after a closer look, I recognized the grandnephew of the great bufo, Oran’Djakhat. It was a good thing that neither the khitams nor the spinner had perceived those actions as a danger to me. After the majordomo’s warning, I was no longer sure of anything about the khitams. Not to mention the lurking spinner, for that matter.

“Oh, forgive my indiscretion!” the young raptorian exclaimed. “Greetings, Big Cheese Carter! I am assigned to be your chronicler from now on, and I will record all of your achievements. If necessary, I will always testify in your favor!”

That was a strange thing to announce, but I decided to find out the meaning of his words later, as the young raptorian had already started heaping praise on themselves.

“In addition, I can take care of your finances, your housekeeping, and recruitment of personnel.” Noticing my skeptical expression, Oran’Djakhat explained. “I was educated in the Great Four, the best institutes on Sarisuru! I am a graduate of the Crystal Academy of Saris, the Institute of the Garron Quill, the Academy of the Starwinds, and the University of True Essence! Incidentally, while waiting for you, I organized some transport! A flying platform has been ordered!”

I cringed at the way Oran shouted every phrase, their enthusiasm excessive. My first sergeant would have been thrilled with a recruit like that.

“And greetings to you, too, Oran,” I replied, handing them the cage. Tiger didn’t object. “Just don’t call me a ‘big cheese,’ all right?” It seemed that Tukang had introduced the term into the raptorian-human phrasebook after our first conversation. “The phrase has too many other meanings.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Oran nodded, demonstrating an excellent knowledge of human gestures. “What plans today, sir? Where are you staying? Will you find the time to go over your finances with me? My grandfather-uncle informed me that you have amassed a great fortune, and I have some ideas about where to invest your money! He also told me about the Netherblade! Do you need a crew? Will we fly it? Or will we lease it out? I can handle that!”

“Listen, Oran, let’s deal with something else first.”

“Yes, sir!”

Even the khitams had started hissing, unable to bear the sheer volume and excitement coming from Oran’Djakhat’s speech module.

“One more ‘sir’ and you’ll be returned to your grandfather!” I hissed. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” came the bewildered reply. “But how should I address you?”

“My name is Carter.”

“But, señor, your esteemed status and my subordinate position do not permit me to address you by name alone.” I raised an eyebrow. “‘Master,’ ‘dude,’ ‘buddy,’ ‘boss’... ?” They were now obviously flailing, confused by all the options in their lexicon of human terminology.

“Whatever. ‘Boss’ works fine,” I said with a resigned wave. “Second thing, quit shouting. I’ve heard that you raptorians are able to control your emotions. Is that right? Well, control them. Have I made myself clear?”

“Right you are, boss,” Oran replied, much more calmly.

“Third, you are currently on probation. Your grandfather asked me to take you into my family, but that privilege needs to be earned.”

The raptorian seemed dejected by that, as shown by a trickle of orange vapor from their sole nasal slit. I asked, “And where is your flying platform?”

Oran’Djakhat gave a wave, and a moment later, we were shrouded in shadow. The platform they had ordered was above us. It looked like a sporting flier, with an elongated predatory nose cone.

“I took the liberty of test-driving the Rapier, boss,” Oran reported, much more calmly now but still bubbling with enthusiasm. “I thought you needed to build yourself a reputation on Sidus. To do that, you should switch to using private transport.”

He’s not an idiot, I thought, but decided not to jump to conclusions. He could be trusted with Tiger’s cage for now. As for anything past that, we would have to see.

Hovering half a meter over the acid swamp, the Rapier revealed itself in all its glory. It was a smooth, glass-like cruiser in the shape of a spearhead, covered in a translucent shroud of a force field. The shroud opened up, and two black shadows swept in and out of it. A six-seater, give or take, I determined.

“Clear,” Tian hissed.

“This is not only a vehicle for traveling around the Cube, boss,” Oran’Djakhat explained once we’d climbed aboard and I had reclined in my seat with delight. “You can use it to fly through space, or — if you purchase the corresponding module — you can use the fixed transit hyperpaths. The seats will transform to fit the needs of any species, and the Rapier itself can stretch out if additional seats are required. Or contract, for fewer. It can accelerate up to a thousand — ”

“Is the young Djakhat able to speak normally?” Kema inquired. “They’re not at the Crystal Academy anymore but among regular sentients.”

“If needed, this ride can seat four rows of four!” Oran’Djakhat barked, but instantly became embarrassed. Or pretended to look like they were, anyway. “Sorry, boss. Khitams have small brains, so bear in mind that it’s best to issue short, one-syllable commands. And you should keep the words simple as well.”

The response was a double hiss while I cursed inside. It was already obvious that the great bufo had not only screwed me over with this trio but they’d given me a box of dynamite to sit on in the process.