Rashu pressed his hand against the desk, his seven remaining digits trembling as the withered bones protested. The faint stench of decay clung to the cramped room like a second skin—a reminder of his mortality. On the desk, scattered papers taunted him with their uselessness. Centuries of progress reduced to scratching ink on parchment.

He gurgled a mucus-laden sigh and looked back at the stack of documents. He’d read it all before. Hell, he’d written it, but it was worthless. Dead end after dead end.

He rose slowly upward, a battle between his rage and failing health, and let loose a hacking cough that nearly sent him back down into the chair. He slammed his fist against the desk and felt one of the fragile bones break. A bone that would never heal again. The fifth metacarpal, he could feel it. He didn’t care. His time was limited by more than just the extent to which he could push his body.

Carefully, he positioned the injured hand against his spine and leaned backward. The scales that ran up his tail crunched against the fur of his lower back, pinching and yanking tufts of the thick guard hair free.

We were never meant to live this way.

Through the Aether, a thin voice interrupted his thoughts. “Dr. Tinopis, Mr. Kerona is asking for you.”

Rashu felt his lungs deflate. He returned the thought to his secretary, “Thank you. I’ll speak with him now.”

No response came. It never would. A response would be a form of respect. Rashu opened the guards of his mind—releasing mental locks that prevented intrusive visitors. Visitors like Tybar Kerona.

Instantly, his mind was filled with the man. The name saturated Rashu’s mind like an invasive species—Tybar: a scorched, lifeless tree; Ke: a fractured world; Rona: an unending lake of fire. The name burned itself into every corner of his consciousness, more powerful than the man himself, but the Draken had a penchant for nominative determinism. A culture based on the belief that if they named their children things that represented grandeur, then that child would be destined for it. Tybar Kerona was nothing of the sort. Middle management of a small Eugenics laboratory, pudgy enough that his scales stretched to show the soft flesh of his underarm. That wouldn’t stop him from shoving his name into every corner of your consciousness when speaking, though.

“Mr. Kerona, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today.” Rashu vocalized the words, though he needn’t.

Through his thoughts, the man’s voice rolled like breaking waves. “I expected an update from you last week, and I have not received it. Why wouldn’t you expect to hear from me?”

Rashu felt his stomach twist. “I’m sorry, sir, I am still struggling to galvanize the bonds. The vast differences of the DNA in each subject present a unique and—”

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“Don’t waste my time, Tinopis!” The waves thundered like a storm swell.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Rashu quickly apologized.

The ocean calmed. “I’m going to give you another chance.”

Rashu felt his heart skip a beat. “Yes, sir.”

“There has been a change of plans. I am sending you to Eon.”

Reshu coughed. “Eon, sir? Isn’t that an extinction world?”

“It is. A group of Aurorium scientists have met with… complications… and you will take a team to continue their research.”

Rashu could hardly believe it. “Aurorium? I thought we didn’t contract with Guilds.”

“We don’t. You do. I am granting you an extension for your research while you are there. You will have full access to their laboratory and findings. You will be bound as a private contractor, and your fee will be paid directly to me.”

Rashu understood what that meant. The thought of a new lab enticed him, though, and one from the largest Guild. He wanted to ask Kerona how he managed to convince the Aurorium to let a Chimeran slave take control of a science outpost on an extinction world, but he thought better of it. Best not to give the man a reason to change his mind.

“Of course, sir. It is my great honor to do this for you. If I may ask, what happened to the previous team?”

“Local flora.” Rashu felt the man’s tone change to something almost jovial. “They discovered a new species of plant whose leaves secrete a powerful neurotoxin. Unfortunately, they discovered it the hard way. Unfortunately for them, anyway. From what I am told, they are still alive, though in blinding agony.”

Botany wasn’t Rashu’s area of expertise, but he could make it work, especially if he was leading a team of botanists themselves. He would spend his time in the lab while the grunts worked in the field. “I’ll take care of it, sir.”

“If you fail…” Kerona’s tone darkened, each word like the slow grind of stone. “Your people will welcome you back—what’s left of you. Many hands make light work, Tinopis. Isn’t that how the saying goes?” Rashu could almost feel the iron cuffs biting into his decaying wrists, the weight of the pickaxe he’d never lift again.

Rashu bit his tongue. “Yes, sir.” He drew in a breath. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“No. You leave in three days. Make your preparations.”

And, just like that, the voice was gone, taking the fires, and the oceans, and the broken worlds with it, leaving a vacuum in Rashu’s thoughts until he started running through the scenario anew.

It was the best news he could ask for. Better than the best. It was unbelievable.

While he was classified as a Tier 3 citizen, the economic failure of his homeworld, Nyti, had led to the aggressive merger with another Tier 3 culture, the Drakens. Their planet was now little more than a mining colony for Aether, and all native Chimerans were bound to the Draken until their debt was paid. For many, it was a death sentence. If one couldn’t work, one couldn’t live. Rashu would have been one of those long dead, but for his brilliant mind and his knowledge of Chimeran physiology. Now he worked for the Draken as a scientist and not disposable slave labor.

This change of plans would be the breakthrough he needed. Access to high end tech and the nigh unlimited funds of the most powerful Guild in the universe. Freedom, he thought. No more begging for scraps of flesh. No more servitude. His research would empower the Chimerans. His people would take what they needed, as others had taken from them. He clenched his broken hand, ignoring the pain. Whatever the cost, he would be their savior.