Free The Zygan Emprise: Renegade Paladins and Abyssal Redemption by YS Pascal

thick I could
slice it, I had no choice but to settle in with the easiest Spud
monograph I could find, and I spent the next couple of hours
reluctantly learning about “Analysis of Fast-Acting Poisons in
Human Excreta.” Somehow, considering our situation, it seemed an
appropriate subject.
    * * *
     
    Warp-down usually happens automatically as we
approach Mayall II, Zyga’s blue dwarf star. But this time, instead
of comming under the guidance of Zyga Traffic Control, I’d
instructed nav to approach our destination invisibly in stealth
mode, using an entry paradigm I’d picked up on the “black market”
at Mingferplatoi Academy.
    “You’re making me nauseated,” Spud complained
as our Cruiser pitched back and forth on a jagged path to avoid
guard buoys.
    “They’re not squibs,” I returned, referring
to the FX explosives that blow fake bullet holes in our Phaeton
Alliance ship on the Bulwark set. “If we hit a buoy, we
could actually get blown up.”
    Spud glowered at me without saying another
word.
    In minutes, thanks to the paradigm, we were
at Zyga apogee, and began our size adjustments. Most of Zyga’s
inhabitants are substantially larger than typical creatures on
Earth. So we’d blend in with the residents, we enlarged (or in
Zygan argot, ‘mega’d) our ship and ourselves by a power of six.
Still invisible, we eased down to the coordinates I’d designated,
to the Kharybdian Enclave near the West Pole.
    As the nucleus of the Zygan Federation, the
planet Zyga welcomes millions of temporary and permanent settlers
from subject civilizations in the known universe. Many Zygfed
citizens opt to assimilate and live in Zyga’s two largest cities,
Mikkin and Aheya, but others prefer domiciles in isolated
neighborhoods called Enclaves that duplicate the conditions of the
residents’ home planets.
    Some of these planets are Universe-renowned
for their picturesque landscapes, awe-inspiring museums and
monuments, and refreshing resorts. The planet Kharybdis
unfortunately isn’t one of them. Kharybdis is famous for its
ever-present dense layer of grimy nimbus clouds that drown the
planet’s few islands on a daily basis in torrents of rain. I really
thought that Spud, having grown up in wet and chilly England, would
have an affinity for the Kharybdian climate, so well duplicated in
its Zygan Enclave. No such luck. Spud’s grumbling began the minute
he exited our parked Cruiser and stepped into the adjacent
footpath’s ankle-deep mud. Cursing, Spud micro’d our ship and
stuffed it into his rucksack. Singularly unenthusiastic, he set off
slogging behind me through the mire towards our destination.
    “I would much prefer to be suffering through Ivanhoe at Covent Garden …,” was the only audible comment
from Spud during our trek.
    A spiky drizzle bored sharply into our bare
faces, already reddened from the cold. Despite having donned
Ergal-ed raincoats, we were both drenched and dirty by the time we
reached the coral door of our former classmate Eikhus’s thal, a
ochre structure that resembled a giant conch shell.
    Nerea, a sparkling clear, animated whirlpool,
answered the door, exclaiming in high-pitched Zygan, “Shiloh,
William!”
    Her spray was refreshing, and helped rinse
off some of the mud from our clothes. I squeaked back quickly,
“Shhh … can we come in?”
    “Sure,” she misted, opening the door wide for
us to enter. “You need to see Eikhus, I suppose.”
    “The sooner the better,” I nodded as we
stepped into the guest level of their home. I lowered my voice.
“Benedict.”
    Nerea paled. Which was difficult, as her
fluid body was transparent as it was. It had been less than two
years since one of Benedict’s fusion torpedo terrorist attacks had
destroyed the Kharybdian city where her parental tributaries had
flowed. The heat released from the bomb’s massive explosion had
instantly evaporated all the aquatic life forms in her now
decimated village, including most of her family. Somber, she