A red starship that had seen better days zoomed in the vacuum of space, towards a planet with soil that bloomed vermillion. The starship blazingly entered the atmosphere of the Anomaly World of Isan Alpha, its energy barrier shielding it from the fierce friction of the air. The small thrusters on its wings gradually reduce the high-altitude descent. No longer burning, its gravitron generators release its anti-gravity particles as its landing gear spreads.
"You are entering Axim Outpost airspace. Please identify. Over. "
"Red Duke One-Two from Four-Two-Four Station. Over. Landing?"
"Platform One."
"Touching down. Angling."
The red starship now hovered over the planet's outpost, angling towards the graviton platform near the station. It smoothly touched down on the landing pad. The outpost was built a decade ago after moving to the planet after it was engulfed in a Sphase Storm that altered most of its surface. It is one of his sources of livelihood, earning money from exacting a toll on starships who wish to land on one of their three landing pads and stay for a while within one of their available rooms in the main buildings; a motel of sorts.
A blue humanoid person with a face akin to catfish hopped out of the sleek red starship, one of the Califex, an amphibious bipedal Descendant race resembling catfish. His beady black eyes stared around the calcified hexagonal pillars that their drones mine and sickly pink pulsating sacs that float above the vermillion earth. His head is heavy from the jetlag from staying at the space station for a standard week.
A cube-shaped robot on treads rolled towards him, its cameras and sensors staring at him.
"Repair my ship."
The robot nodded and rolled down the ramp that leads to the landing pad. The person walked towards the tallest two-story building of the outpost, in between the two warehouses of his home. The metal door of the entrance opened with a hiss. Sitting on the counter where they sell goods for those who stop by on their outpost is another of his race; his son polishing his rifle behind the counter. Behind him is a rack of boxes containing various goods.
"Welcome back, old man."
"Lecatem. Nothing unusual happened?”
“None. No jobs for me too. How much did you earn?”
“150,000 units. Sold all of the calcite and soil.”
“Someone in Irem Mirael wants to meet you. Got a call earlier from that city.”
“A call? Cietez.” He cursed. “ I just came back from space. Can we go tomorrow? Take a nap-nap?”
As far as they know, only people who know them personally can call them, or someone who knows how to find and decrypt private communication lines.
“The offer’s three–no, five times larger than what you earned in a week–”
“Standard week, not the planet’s week–”
“Still, it's half a mill’ units, pops. This gig’s macro. And he’s leaving tomorrow. He’s in the Zeezy Cantina.”
His son stared at him, slinging his rifle and holstering his pistol. The older of the two is still not convinced.
“What’s it about? Who’s it from?” The father asked.
“Jacking a data vessel, he said. Name’s Shajkasha. Know him?”
“Oh, him. I worked with him back when I was hired. Trader and merc’. Not system-bound like us.”
“A trader like you?”
“Yeah. More micro-fencin’ and smugglin’ nowadays. And that’s a big job, so no.”
“How about you’ll hear him out? You're going to convert units anyway in the city, right? Buy some supplies. Cooker-drone’s circuit busted anyway.”
“Fine. You’ll fix our cooker when we get home. If I don't like the job, that’s that. No running solo and no pulling my whiskers.”
“Got it, pops.”
They rode on the buggy that they always rode when they needed to drive toward one of the planet's budding city-states. They drove through dry land, leaving dust in their wake. One of the planet's moons rose from the horizon. Crystalline creatures watched the buggy atop the crystalized mountains, merged with temples from another world. After half a standard hour, they arrived at the city of Irem Mirael, a budding settlement ruled by the local Bounty Hunter's Guild. Many of its sparse buildings were made out of the planet's pink and vermillion stone, with few made out of fabricated material. The backwater planet is newly settled by unscrupulous sorts, refugees, and wanderers of wild space who landed on its soil.
Armed personnel stopped the buggy, and the son showed them his license in the Bounty Hunter Guild. They parked in the parking lot of the Zeezy Cantina. Upon entering the brightly lit cantina, some rough eyes were on them for a moment before minding their own business. They saw a slimy person throwing six knives at a marked board in a knife-throwing contest and various people playing a version of billiards that uses hovering pucks at a space away from the table.
A hulking lizard person with a broken horn on his snout waved at them. One of the Zahari, the core Descendant race of the Zaharil Empire. The father and son sat at the table in front of him.
"Comrade Derisfe! Glad to see you again." The Zahari hugged them both in a rough embrace.
"Shajkasha, I thought you got injured back in the raid while we were in the freighter?" Derisfe asked.
"I am. My leg hasn't been fully healed. You can't just buy paste or a surg-unit in wild space! Starlords jacked up the prices!"
"What's the job? Macro or micro? You should've called me. My son would jump at the opportunity without checking if the water's deep."
"You're in space. Who knows how long you'll be back? You mine these calcified shit and sell these for units, right?"
"Yes."
"The job earns more than selling anomalous dirt. You'll hijack an unmanned, lone data vessel. Shuttle-sized."
"We know zero about datajacking."
"No worries about that. There's a datajacker who wants to take the job. In fact, he's the one who paid me to hire the right people for the job. And the right people that I know are you guys.”
“Why?”
“You did this kind of gig before. You have your Red Duke. An Eremel-Model security shuttle from the surplus of Stellar Yards. You can just phase away after the data jack. The guy would do the datajacking. After that, you’ll stop at Station 424 to sell the data to someone he knows. Your son can protect you if anything bad happens.”
“Details, man. Details!” Lecatem, Derisfe’s son, interrupted. “Who’s the guy that hired us? What’s the data? Who’s the guy he’s selling to?”
“Patience, son.” Derisfe chided. “But, he’s right. If we’re going to do this job, he needs to give us more information.”
“I’m the entity that hired you.” A voice interrupted them.
A lone, four-legged figure wearing a hood and a translucent visor appeared at their table. Its voice is robotic as if it was calculating the right thing to say while translating it from its own language in real-time. The sound of its electronic voice emitted from micro-loudspeakers is still audible amidst the noise of the cantina.
“A cieting Unprog?” Derisfe warily held the pistol on his holster. His son was quicker, by virtue of being younger and possessing cybernetic implants, already pushing the barrel on the stranger’s translucent visor.
“No hostilities in this establishment. Failure to comply will be met with deadly force within the laws of this city and my manufacturer’s programming.” The robotic bartender warily glared at them, charging up the deadly energy weapon concealed within its head; its barrel slowly emerging from its metal skull. The people within this establishment warily held their weapons, some even already pointing their guns in their general direction.
“No. I’m not an Unprogrammed Intelligence. Nor I am Sanctioned Intelligence. I’m an entity of the Venvth.” The stranger explained. “A regrettably common mistake.”
“Calm down. We’re not fighting, bartender!” Shajkasha pulled away the barrel of Lecatem’s gun. “He’s no unprog. He’s a full-ganic being…I think. Their biology is weird. Their real bodies are made out of gas–”
“Our mind-bodies are made out of microorganisms suspended in various gases within our Sacs–”
“The point is, he’s not an unprog. He’s–” Shajkasha interrupted.
“I have no gender–” The stranger tried to cut in.
“A normal person like us.” Shajkasha continued. “With an awful lot of units. We’re good! Peace!”
The robot bartender detracted its weapon from its skull, and the cantina’s customers holstered their weapons and relaxed, seeing it as a normal day in Irem Mirael.
“Yes. Without interruption, hopefully, I will introduce myself. I am Datajacker/Codecrypter/Exiled Entity Intallex of the Server World of Forty-Delta.” The Venvth spoke his occupation and status in its society instantaneously as it introduces itself. The three people heard the three words as one brisk word.
“The data vessel is a messenger-type unmanned vessel of the Zryion Courier Company, Kcrypeth Networking subcontractor. The vessel’s model is a Zobo-Betn X1-300 Tri-Wing Comet with a long-range Sphase Drive. It holds a petabyte of trading and personal data to be transmitted to outposts of the Worldwaker Archeology Group. It is alone. But it possesses a few point defenses. Automated turrets carrying laser and missile weapons.”
“Comrade Derisfe can shoot them. Easy.” Shajkasha reassured.
“I need an above-average pilot. So we can latch on to the Data Vessel as it travels. Halting its movement may cause it to activate its beacon. So, I will pay for the EMP weapon, data hose, and electronic warfare suite in your ship, so we can latch on to it without issue as I copy the data, and deal with its black box.”
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
“Electronic suite? EMP weapon? No messing my ship without my permission.” Derisfe objected.
“Then I’ll ask for your permission. I will pay for any damages. The upgrades are temporary.”
“How much will you pay us? Pops is stingy ‘bout his Red Duke.” Lecatem asked. “Make sure the price is worth it.”
“I’m willing to procure a downpayment of 450,000 standard units. I will give you 10% when I sell the data to my contact in Station 424.” Intallex answered.
“10%? That is too low.” Lecatem objected.
“The data is worth two million standard units. It’s 200,000 units in total.”
“It’s enough,” Derisfe answered. “We’ll take the job. A lot for a micro-danger job. However, I want to meet with your contact. Mainly, for business reasons. I am a trader, first and foremost. I want to establish connections.”
“Satisfactory,” Intallex concluded. “I’ll tell him when we get there.”
“Glad to see we’re getting along. ‘Tender, I’ll order two grilled grot tendrils and three bottles for them!”
Shajkasha ordered a meal for the father and son since the Venvth didn’t need food. The buggy had enough for four people, so Shajkasha and Intallex accompanied the two Califex to convert Derisfe’s units into the local currency so they could buy things within the city since units used for interstellar trade are not recognized as currency within the city-states of Isan Alpha.
The buggy arrived in the city’s Streal Quarter, the city’s district surrounding its lone starport. Starships manned by mostly traders, brigands, mercenaries, and travelers often land on its six landing pads. Few people from the system’s planets of Tybel, a world with vast swamps, Lembden, a ringed planet crisscrossed with verdant caverns, and the Five Rings, the rediscovered ancient orbital rings around its green gas giant head to Isan Alpha, its woefully underdeveloped interstellar infrastructure discouraging travelers staying for too long.
Among the crowd of other Califex from Tybel, the colorful ape-like, boar-snouted Lemdbas, and the various fleet-footed, five-eyed, six-limbed pale “Ringcrawlers” that live in the orbital rings and moons of the star system’s gas giant and its various other species, is robed or hooded figures of various shapes and sizes. Apostates of logic and science, who chose to believe in supposedly supernatural phenomena like “magic” brought about by the sudden tears and twists of the alternate dimension of Sphase in reality had laboriously traveled to the backwater dwarf planet of Isan Alpha to witness the so-called sites of “magic” and “miracle” after the planet had been altered by a Sphase Storm.
After turning away from one of their congregations, they went inside the city’s data bank. A robot behind a glass counter, connected to multiple computer terminals turned its sensors. Intallex stared at the turrets mounted on the wall, their barrels and cameras following them.
“Hello, how may I help you?” The robot spoke in a robotic female voice.
“Unit exchange.”
Derisfe handed his digital tablet to the counter, letting it be scanned by the robot. After it was done, the pick-up tray opened loudly, making the heavy silver coins ring. His son pocketed the coins.
“Time to buy some stuff.”
Shajkasha led them to a shop where they sell starship-mounted weapons that the Venvth need for the data heist. It was a large yard within the quarter, where secondhand starships and their parts were reassembled, repaired, and sold. A 6-foot-tall slug-like being slithered towards them.
“Eoi! Shajkasha! What brings you here?” The slug-person boisterously asked, hugging the Zahari as a greeting.
“Comrade Ke’murme! My friends here need a…electronic warfare suite, data hose, and an EMP weapon.” Shajkasha asked.
“Preferably disabling, not damaging,” Intallex added.
“What’s the model of the starship?” Ke’murme asked.
“Eremel Model 12 Security Shuttle. Outfitted with a mid-sized modular cargo hold. Vetrel-suite Sphase and real-nav. Operates on a late-gen onboard IOS. General purpose.” Derisfe spoke up, listing down the basic specs of his ship.
“I think you’re in luck. How many free bytes on her computer?” Ke’murme asked.
“200TB.”
“The datajacking software will be 100TB. As for the temporary terminal…”
Later, they have an automated cart full of durable plasteel crates containing the parts that they bought. The bell tower of the city rang in menacing intervals, as a melodic sound emitted throughout the loudspeaker poles installed throughout the city.
“Attention, Irem Mirael. Isan Alpha’s Three-Hundred Day Winter will begin shortly. Reminder: make sure that all electronics are freeze-proof. Always remember to always turn on heaters. Stockpile food and energy cells. Good luck this winter.”
On the horizon, the pink skies gradually darkened to violet, then to the void of space as the planet revolved further away from its two suns. The vermillion soil and the few glittering shrubs crystallized into ice, the freezing cold rapidly sweeping the planet. They were fortunate that they were already wearing winter clothing since the planet is inherently cold.
They rode away from the city and headed back to their outpost. They spent the night defrosting their ship, drones, and electronics. Installing the electronic warfare suite was the easiest part of the process, as installing the data hose under the belly of the ship and the short-pulse EMP emitter under sub-zero temperatures was the hardest since their work area will need to be constantly heated by space heaters. The next planetary day, which is equal to one and a half galactic standard day, they had installed the necessary parts to be used in the data heist and refueled the ship. Shajkasha opted to stay behind due to his unhealed injury.
Intallex debriefed the father and son on board the ship about the location of the data vessel, producing a hologram of a star chart displaying its flight path across wild space.
“The data vessel will phase back to realspace in the Isan System’s Phase Point within three standard days from the Parathunax star system, outside of the Isan Shell asteroid field’s Z-axis.”
The Venvth pointed at the coordinates in the hologram, a point right outside the spherical asteroid field, above the two stars and four planets of the star system.
“The star chart assumes the Isan Stars as the origin of the plane so we would need to travel two light hours towards the Z-axis at sub-light speed. Arriving at that point, we will have to wait for it.”
“Got it,” Derisfe answered. “This better be worth it.”
“Do I have a role in this other than accompanying my dad?” Lecatem asked.
“You will be our protector,” Intallex answered.
“Alright.
“Red Duke to Axim Outpost. Shajkasha, you there?” Derisfe pulled the mic closer to him.
“Loud and clear, Comrade,” Shajkasha answered within the intercom. The Zahari took over the outpost’s air traffic control terminals, as he transmitted a message to Station 424. “Activating the gravitic pads.”
The landing pad of the outpost made the red-winged starship hover. The passengers rapidly bound themselves with seatbelts. Derisfe pressed buttons and flicked switches before pulling its throttle lever. Its plasma thrusters accelerated the starship as it angled upwards. The thrusters struggled against the planet’s gravity well, but finally, they left its atmosphere behind. The starships thrust upwards toward the void of space. Lecatem stared at the radar, anxiously hoping that there isn’t pirate vessels hounding them down; an unfortunately common phenomenon in wild space. As soon as they were sufficiently far enough from the four planets of the star system, Derisfe switched on the autopilot.
“I’ll take an instant nap.” Derisfe turned to his son. “Wake me up if anything happens.”
“My real body will undergo restful stasis. My exoskeleton will move when needed.” The Venvth's exoskeleton froze in place.
The ship finally arrived at the coordinates of the star charts after traveling two light hours. They emerged from the asteroid field that surrounds the star system. The passengers of the Red Duke were now wide awake. As Derisfe made adjustments in space by manipulating the starship’s micro-thrusters, they saw a small boxy vessel with three fins, antenna arrays, and automated weapon turrets at each of its four sides, emerging from a tear in reality that quickly stitched itself.
“That’s the target! Earlier than my previous calculations!” Intallex exclaimed. “Its detection range is–”
“Fasten your seatbelts! I’m going in!”
The red-winged shuttle fully accelerated, zooming towards the unmanned data vessel. Derisfe ignored Intallex’s warning since he knows what he is doing; having done this before. Its turrets, bearing laser guns and short-ranged, anti-starship missiles turned towards the encroaching starship. Derisfe locked on to the chink of the data vessel’s anti-EMP plating and fired his newly installed EMP-producing laser. The laser momentarily stopped the data vessel’s functions, however, the momentum generated by its thrusters before its deactivation still kept it moving throughout space. Derisfe deftly steered the ship above the moving data vessel, making an effort to match its speed.
Intallex’s tablet was plugged into the starship’s electronics, with the software that the Venvth needed to hack into the data vessel. The Venvth unleashed the starship’s new data hose; a thick cable packed with various wires, guided by a remote-controlled robot enveloping the tip of the “hose”. Intallex guided the robot, searching for the vessel’s data port as it propelled and adjusted itself with its micro-thrusters. The robot’s arms emitted a laser to cut away the data port’s metal cover and injected the wires on the ports to access the data vessel’s digital functions. The Venvth’s exoskeleton plugged a wire from its body into the tablet’s port. His mind, now connected to the data vessel, immediately set to deactivate the data vessel’s point defenses and distress beacon as the data vessel regains its power. As soon as it established control over the data vessel, he began copying the terabytes of data stored within its massive solid-state drive blocks.
Derisfe saw an asteroid the size of their buggy hurtling toward them.
“Hey! Can you drive the vessel away from the rock?” Derisfe adamantly asked. However, the Venvth cannot hear him, due to being mentally linked in cyberspace, fighting off the anti-malware safeguards in the data vessel.
“It can hear you! It’s deep-diving!” Lecatem told his father about the Venvth’s current situation.
“Cietin! I hate wasting missiles.” Derisfe pressed a button on the starship. From one of the starship’s red wings, a missile was launched, homing toward the asteroid. The explosion completely destroyed the asteroid, however, its fragments scratched the wings, cockpit, and fuselage.
“Done.” The Venvth finally became conscious after disconnecting the data hose and retracting it back from the starship. Derisfe took a glance at the data that the Venvth gathered.
The starship soon headed towards Station 424, a space station orbiting Isan Alpha.
After two light hours, they arrived at the space station, a sprawling tiered cone that is slowly spinning in orbit; a repurposed space station. The space station was a hub for void trade that would otherwise be outlawed in civil space. Highly destructive weapons, certain drugs, decrypted information, illegal organisms, mind-control devices, secret gene data, and even slaves are sold in Station 424, governed by a “star lord”; a colloquial term for a warlord or pirate leader of wild space.
They docked on the side of the station, the starship enclosed within a metal skeleton designed to hold the ship for repairs and refueling. Its landing gear was held by clamps part of the docking station.
Derisfe and Lecatem wore their spacesuits, while Intallex’s exoskeleton is a spacesuit by itself. The two were wary of the unsavory individuals that steal the units and data on the docked starships; data thieves looking for an opportunity to skim the riches of trader starships’. To combat this, they bribed the workers and robots with units on every visit to prevent them from snooping around; a common practice in the pirate-controlled space stations.
They floated towards the wide airlock. Its doors opened with a hiss, and gravity was restored as soon as they were inside the airlock. The two Califex removed their helmets.
“So, what’s in the vessel?” Lecatem asked Intallex.
“Classified.” Intallex briefly answered. Lecatem shrugged his shoulders.
“Where’s your contact?” Derisfe asked.
“We will convene in Berlyni Grills. 30th floor.” Intallex asked. Derisfe knew the station’s famous steakhouse that serve various cheap but delightful portions of meat grown from the station’s growing vats.
The airlock opened. They walked through a labyrinth of shops lit up by neon signs, selling various goods found in other worlds and nearby star systems, and habitation blocks where citizens of the space station live in squalid to decent conditions. Its congested corridors are full of species from Isan’s worlds and beyond. Many of its establishments cater to various Descendant species and were built without the resources of civil space, hence its chaotic and unorganized layout. Many of its ramshackle areas were cordoned off or inhabited by squatters.
Derisfe was wary of the individual criminals and organized gangs that had been part of Station 424’s ecosystem. In his visits, he remembers being mugged three separate times. Station 424’s enforcers, the immoral mercenary goons of Star-Lord Reqkem, regularly patrol its corridors to combat these gangs not affiliated with them and shakedown taxes from the residents of the space station. He saw one of these enforcers beating down a four-legged person in a cordoned-off corridor near them as they entered the derelict elevator that will lift them down to the 30th floor.
The elevator was a wide platform originally used to carry shipping containers. Nevertheless, it was still cramped due to the number of people that regularly rode it. The elevator speedily descended, violently stopping on each floor of the sprawling space station.
Finally, they arrived at the 30th floor of the space station. Intallex led them through the dim circular atrium possessing multiple floors full of eateries and stores. They arrived at a particularly smoky restaurant where various people cook meat on grills, the smoke being partially sucked up by its vents. The neon sign was written in the star system’s language: Berlyni Grills.
The tables were full of various Descendant species except for one small table at the edge of the room, manned by a hunched flabby green amphibious person wearing a brown robe, concealing his clothes and other tools on his belt.
The three sat with him. Intallex’s contact gave Derisfe and Lecatem a wary glare.
“Who are these people?” The contact asked.
“I hired them. To get the data.” Intallex handed him the data in a solid-state drive, pushing aside the empty plastic plate on the table.
“Excellent. I’ll sell this to a civil space station, preferably. I do not like the possibility of being datajacked while in this…decrepit mass of orbital junk.”
“Excuse me, are you interested in a partnership?” Derisfe asked Intallex contact.
“Flattered, but I’m not interested.” Intallex’s contact declined.
“How about we make use of the data? I do know the location of the tomb in the Nehvemgren Shrublands back in Isan Alpha. We can beat the archeologists to it and sell those artifacts to them.”
Derisfe had secretly read the data on the ship after Intallex copied it. Now, he uses it as an advantage for a business opportunity, as a guide to the many mysterious ruins that appeared on the planet after it was altered by the Sphase Storm.
“Artifacts. Not artifacts.” The stranger put an heavy emphasis on that word.
“Yes. Heard from somewhere that you can cast ‘magic’ with it. What do you say?” Derisfe continued.
“I apologize. I did not expect I had to kill more than the datajacker.” The stranger suddenly drew his pistol and shot Derisfe, his head exploding into green gore. The stranger’s face and body morphed into a thinner black figure that quickly stabbed Intallex with a sword that destabilizes every molecule it touches, piercing the metal body like butter, puncturing the Sac that contained his real gaseous body that leaked into the air.
“Shapeshifter!” Someone shouted.
Lecatem ducked as he heard a couple of the armed customers drew their own guns and fired at the hostile stranger. He ran out of Berlyni Grills, away from the firefight bumping into a couple of people. Some were enraged and chased him down. The station enforcers were mobilized to investigate the shooting, but all they saw was dead bodies sliced into pieces among charred walls, without the shapeshifter in sight.
He escaped to the elevator in time. It shot up, still stopping from floor to floor. He did not have the energy to wonder about the immense scale of this place. No time to grieve either, as he was sure that somewhere, that shapeshifter will come after him. He didn’t know why, and he did not have time to think about it. As soon as he got to the floor where they were in, he ran towards the area where the starship has been docked.
“Hey! You done already? The fee will be–”
Lecatem tossed the unit chips to the green octopus person who were one of the employees of the dock in charge of repairing sustained damage and refuling the ship. The employee moved as Lecatem closed the starship’s doors. He pulled the microphone closer to his lips.
“Hey! Is the ship good to go?” Lecatem spoke to the intercom. He was only replied by static.
“I’m afraid that you aren’t getting out of here alive with the knowledge that you hold. Apologies.”
The amorphous form of the shapeshifter appeared, dropping a heavy bag on the floor. He, or she spoke with a gurgle, but clear enough for him to hear, even when the beating of his heart overpowered anything else. Lecatem pulled out his rifle and unleash a burst of bullets, but the shapeshifter simply absorbed it. It cut a hole in the starship and it disappeared with a blur.
The heavy bag containing a bomb exploded; ripping the starship to pieces. The shapeshifter changed back to another form, blending in with the panicking workers.
Later within that standard day, Star-Lord Reqkem, owner and governor of Station 424 executed those he thought to be responsible: the negligent workers and enforcers under him that could’ve stopped this supposed attack. Shajkasha wept within the control room of his friend’s outpost, cursed with the knowledge that he caused the death of his friend.
The real perpetrator slipped through a starship, exiting the star system by phasing through Sphase towards the nearest star system of Parathunax after it accomplished its mission.