Omnigalactic: The Fangs of Z'et

By Christopher Conner

It’s been six months since the battle against Shen’roth and all is well... except for the bills. Omnigalactic has yet to pay off their debts and Sai is struggling to make ends meet. Declaring bankruptcy seems all too certain, until they are contacted by an aspiring Hanzan warrior. In a desperate attempt to avoid insolvency, Sai pulls rank and drags co-founder Jord, junior employee Daniel Glennsworth, and a new intern into a high-octane, no-holds-barred, hunt through the harsh desert of Hanza.
Some will face the daemons of their nature, some their past, but the fact remains - there’s one waiting to kill them... and it’s got fangs!
Omnigalactic: The Fangs of Z’et is the second entry of their entrepreneurial escapades. Join Sai, Jord and Glennsworth in their journey to become the galaxy’s number one daemon-slaying, independent contracting company.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Conner
• Release date: Oct 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463349892

Christopher Conner

Indie Author of the Omnigalactic sci-fi adventure series.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Two Grimlop Eggs and A Flapjack

Jord

If someone told me I'd be co-founders of a daemon-hunting company with an Anuran freighter pilot and a Human wizard one day, I'd have socked that idiot in the face and laughed it off as crazy. Yet there I was, six months into the business, and loving every second of it. Ever since our run-in with Shen'roth, Elder Daemon of Deception, we'd been on the prowl for other daemonic entities, as Glennsworth had put it. But unfortunately - more so for the uptight prick than me or Sai - we hadn't much luck rooting them out. Job after job, planet after planet, we'd found nothing but more terrorized colonies, bug hunts, and flat-out duds. I started to question whether Glennsworth was really onto something or leading us on his own personal, psychotic, vanar-chase with nothing but dead ends.

Regardless, the money was rolling in. Not as much as I'd like, but hey, I couldn't complain. After this contract, we'd finally have enough to pay off our ship - the Lady Luna. And with that, Valo, the crusty old junker back on Anura, would get off our backs. We'd be indebted to nobody. Complete financial freedom, general overhead aside.

I finished my morning leak and started my short trek back to our campsite just before the tree line of the Birkkekken Forest. With each crunching step, I trudged through a winding path of thin trees and prickly brambles. Despite being a little more than half its former size, the Birkkekken still stretched for hundreds of miles to the southeast. Having seen nothing but trees for the last two weeks, I was more than ready to get out of here.

I took a seat on an old, dried-up, lichen-covered log by the fire next to Sai, who was busy cooking us a hearty breakfast of fried grimlop eggs and something Glennsworth called pancakes. Sai had really taken a liking to these pancakes and would relentlessly drown them in a sickly-sweet, thick syrup. Like dessert for breakfast, he'd said once. Between that and his need for stim-drinks, Sai was all over the place, like a happy-powder addict. It was hilarious at first, but with Valo's deadline on our backs like a sniper on a target, he'd become manic and obsessive. He'd run checks, double-checks, and even triple-checks over the company's budget. I had to sit down with the little guy and reassure him that we'd make the deadline. It seemed to work—for a while.

Sai held out a tin plate of breakfast for me. Two grimlop eggs and one... what'd you call it again, Glennsworth?

A pancake.

Sai giggled. No, the other word. The funnier one.

Glennsworth smirked. You really think it's that funny?

Yeah, Sai said, grinning like an idiot.

A flapjack.

Yeah! Flapjack! It’s even fun to say. Flapjack. Flapjack.

Just hand it over, already, I said and snatched the plate. Feel like I haven't eaten in two weeks.

Three weeks actually, Glennsworth corrected.

I inhaled the salty, savory, blue-yolked eggs in one whole bite, but had difficulty with the pancake. I sighed and with a mouthful of syrup-drenched bread, I said, How many times do I have to tell you? I don't like that much syrup.

Sai had forgone the eggs in favor of a quadruple stack of pancakes. He looked up at me, back down at his plate, and back again. But, it's delicious. How could you not—

Forget it. I waved it off.

Glennsworth gets it.

Glennsworth nodded and delicately cut his food into tiny pieces before ever taking his first bite. I don't know why it annoyed the hell out of me, but it did. Just eat it already!

While the others ate, I stood up to stretch and breathe in the crisp morning chill of Chloran. It was early spring. Patches of melted snow dripped from the newly green leaves, and hairy critters scurried between their burrows and dens, undoubtedly ready to feast and mate after hiding all winter. The termites had been tough bastards, but after two weeks, we'd finally killed the last of them.

Oh, yeah—about that. Turns out, the first time we took this job six months back, we hadn't quite eradicated all the nests. The Chlorani were pissed but were more than glad to hire us back to finish them off, seeing as no one else could be bothered with the laborious time-sink of a job. As an upstart company, all we cared about was filling the coffers, and we had no problem lighting up a few bug nests—especially for the promised 30,000 bitcreds.

Sai let out a nice belch and patted his ever-expanding belly. "Well boys, we ready to get going? Sleeping on the ground a few weeks has made me miss the Lady Luna's crappy cots."

You know my answer, Glennsworth said. Had we stayed another day stomping at insects, I'd have quit.

Sai chuckled. Oh Glennsworth, always the optimist. Glennsworth shot him a look. Wait, you're serious? I thought we talked about this?

I remember our talk. I'm simply voicing my grievance that has yet to be resolved.

What's that supposed to mean?

You know, what good is an ‘Open-Door Policy’ if an employee never gets answers?

Sai shot up. Because I'm a businessman, not a genie. I can't wave my hand or snap my fingers and give you everything you wish for.

Sai, you told me—explicitly, I should add—that you would help me find more daemonic entities. Yet here we are, six months down the road, and we haven't seen anything like Shen'roth.

Th-that's not true. Well, it's sort of true. Anyway, you're the one with that freaky book. If anything, it's equally your fault. You have to give me something to work with. Not more cryptic nonsense. I swear, it's like trying to solve an Icto algorithm cube with you.

I splashed a bucket of water over the campfire. The bright embers faded with a loud hiss. I hate to break up this very entertaining argument, but I'd also like to get paid and leave.

We'll finish this later, Sai said, pointing to Glennsworth like he was firing laser beams from his finger.

As we packed our things into the back of our rented, quad-engine hovercraft, I could hear Sai mumbling words like selfish and ignorant and gonad-chomper. Man, the little guy was stressed. Being the boss must've been hard on him. It was like Shen'roth still had his tentacles on him, squeezing until his brain burst from his skull. I couldn't blame him, though. Glennsworth was a prick.

We hopped aboard the hovercraft, with Sai manning the controls. Before I could even buckle my harness, Sai ignited the engines and sent us blazing through the Birkkekken Forest (what the termites hadn't eaten of it yet, anyway). My head slammed into the back of the chair as we exited the tree line. For miles to the left and right of us, the earth lay barren—except for the boulders and rocks that the termites couldn't chew through. It was something I was used to seeing back home on Hanza—if you could call it home. I'd never seen the Tresedi homeworld. I'd only heard stories from my mother and father.

After a long, very awkward ride back to the Timmivvu spaceport, we landed at the aircraft shop and returned our vehicle. Our PCDs pinged, updating us on the one thousand bitcred rental fee, an annoying-but-necessary business expense to liberate ourselves from debt. Now, we only needed to pay a visit to the Holy Tallest to get paid.

Despite the loud clanking and grinding of factories, Timmivvu wasn't a busy place. It was mostly miners, prospectors, and traders from offworld, whom the Chlorans paid, so they didn't have to get their branches dirty. Heavily regulated, though. Chlorans didn't want a single tree felled, as it was considered an unholy act. Good thing they didn't travel much offworld. If they saw even a glimpse of how much the rest of the galaxy used wood, they'd declare war. Maybe that was really why they didn't travel much. Willful ignorance, I suppose.

My boots slid against the slick, pebble-strewn terrain as we made it to the Holy Tallest's Garden, a miles-long floral arrangement fit for any tree-hugging king or lord. The Holy Tallest stood—well, quite literally, tall over the Garden, accompanied by three other, shorter Chlorans. At 30 feet in height, I couldn't help but feel like a pathetic insect compared to him. He extended a branch in greeting, shaking it, so his holy leaves could fall over our heads. Man, these guys were up their own asses—if they had any. They probably excreted waste through their roots.

Sunshine and rainfall be upon you, he spoke slowly through a slit of a mouth. His voice rumbled and shook the ground. Today is the first day of spring, our most holy of days. I hope you bring us a gift.

Yes, as a matter-of-fact, I said. I opened the sack with the chitinous head of the termite queen and tossed it at his feet. He flinched, but with a slowness only a tree could possess. Or maybe a rock.

"The She-Devil has finally paid the price of her unholy transgressions. You are sure she is the last?"

We scoured the hell out of those hills. She's the last.

Our thirst for revenge has been quenched, then, he said and turned to one of the other Chlorans. Young sapling, please compensate our righteous crusaders.

The shorter Chloran stretched out a fingered branch holding out a shimmering, emerald-studded rod. Sai took it in his hands and inspected it. What the hell is this? he asked.

It is a silverbranch, a most sacred item gifted to us from the Wyn, many hundreds of springs ago.

We bust our gonads for you, Sai said louder, "and you give us this? Is this some kind of joke? C'mon, cough up the 30,000."

Joke? the Holy Tallest asked. I don't understand. That is a priceless relic. It's value greater than any single—

Priceless to who? An art collector? A historian? We don't care about that stuff. Only money. Pay us. Now.

Glennsworth spoke up. "Sai, you heard the tree, it is priceless. Just sell it after we're finished here."

We didn't sign up for work, only to be paid with more work.

Guards, escort our crusaders back to their ship, the Holy Tallest said.

The three other Chlorans stomped forward, shaking the ground with their massive trunk-legs. I pulled Sai back before he got squished. C'mon, bud. We'll figure this out. We always do.

You dirt-sucking, bark-brained, bastard! Sai screamed and darted for the Holy Tallest. I snatched him buy the collar of his jacket to hold him back.

Sai, let's go before we get put in a stasis-dungeon or something.

I'm suing you for breach-of-contract, you stupid twig! he shouted. I've been studying galactic contract law!

The Chloran guards halted their advance as we trudged back to the landing pad, where the Lady Luna rested. Sai continued his grumbling rant about the Chlorans with a hint of Glennsworth thrown in. I followed him up the ramp, his boots panging with each step. He slumped into his captain's chair and started her engines. I stood there, quietly eyeballing his vitals with my cybernetic eye. His heartbeats-per-minute was dangerously high for an Anuran.

I put an arm on his shoulder. You need to relax, bud. You're going to have a heart attack or a stroke.

He spun around in his chair. Relax? Relax, Jord-o? This was our last chance to pay off Valo! Remember what I said would happen? He's going to send hitmen after us. Hitmen!

Our PCDs pinged. It was Valo on instachat.

Valo: Tick tock, tick tock. Hope my money's on its way.

Sai: It's coming. Trust me.

Valo: That's what you said last time.

I patted his back, trying my best to calm him down. Like I said, you need to relax.

I thought we had it in the bag. I thought I escaped failure. Here I am, scrambling once again. Pantheon save me. I can't go back to flying freighters again. My parents will kill me.

You know something? I think you need a drink. Why don't we stop at that space station? Think of a plan.

Sai nodded. Yeah. You're right. Surely a dose of liquid intuition will help.

CHAPTER TWO

Still Short On Cash

Jord

I wished I'd been able to scout Oachminivven Station a little more the last time we were there. The place was as dank and dingy as a neglected basement, with little light to boot. I supposed I shouldn't have been surprised; Chlorans hardly leave their planet, if at all. They couldn’t have cared less if off-worlders had a place to get hammered in peace.

With a horde of people crammed in there—coupled with Sai's current angst-ridden state—it wasn't the ideal setting I had hoped to settle him down in. To make matters worse, they didn't have Wat's Master Brew on draught. Not a bottle or can in sight, either. Had I known all that; I would've suggested we should just drink on the ship.

This place sucks, Sai said. Is this what the Chlorans call ‘beer’? What am I drinking here? Piss? This is the kind of stuff you get a homeless guy to buy for you as a kid.

"It's not that bad, I lied, managing to force down a swallow. Besides, we're here to think of a plan."

Sai ignored me and pointed to a Human in a dimly lit, stained corner of the bar. Is that guy taking a leak? And nobody's stopping him? Ugh.

Glennsworth tapped away at his PCD for a moment, then looked up in disappointment. Well gentlemen, we've been duped.

What do you mean? I asked.

The relic appraiser contacted me again. The silverbranch is a replica. Blast it! I should have known by its weight alone. Real silver is not that light.

Sai's head slammed on the table, shaking the bottles and tray of crunchnuts. We were so close, he mumbled. Now my head's going to get smashed-in by hitmen. He bumped his head a few more times on the table. I should get used to this sensation. Maybe it won't hurt as bad.

I yanked him up by his jacket collar. It's not over yet. You're turning in to your old self. Straighten up.

What do we do then, Jord-o? he asked, then grimaced as he took another swig.

Why don't you ask Valo for an extension? Glennsworth cut in. We've made good on a majority of the loan. Surely he'd—

I've already tried that. The guy is a bitcred-pinching cheapskate.

We take another quick job, I said. Or two if we have to. Even if it's rescuing someone's decrepit grandmother from an end-of-life center. Anything we can get our hands on.

We don't have any more time, Sai said. Even less considering travel time, waiting to for clients to respond, interviews, and so on. This was supposed to be the one. The last payment.

The flashing of lights and images from the digivision fixed behind the bar caught my cybernetic eye. It looked kind of like Melville. A female Anuran reporter with purple eyes and a brown dress stood there talking in front of the infirmary. I signaled to the bartender. Hey, turn that up.

The bartender tapped at a remote laying behind him. When the volume was good enough, I listened intently.

...but what the researchers found, was more than they hoped for - a sea monster with a craving for blood and flesh relentlessly attacked the facility. More than forty Human men and women were killed or injured by the creature. With eyewitness testimony factored in, computer graphics engineers rendered the following recreation of the incident.

A giant, black, swirling blob sucked in tiny Human bodies and spit them back out with splotches of red. Other Humans fled, accompanied by stock-audio screams.

That's not what Shen'roth looks like! Sai yelled to the bartender, who simply eyed him in confusion and shrugged. He had tentacles, rows upon rows of sharp teeth, a-and a glowing red eye!

The camera returned to the reporter standing next to Dr. Rupert, her pretty, sandy hair blowing in the ocean breeze. Judging by the dark bags under her eyes, I could tell she was equally stressed and sleep deprived.

The reporter continued, I'm here with Dr. Ellen Rupert, Chief Physician and interim colony leader. Dr. Rupert, having handled the situation yourself, can you explain how this turned into a complete disaster?

Dr. Rupert looked confused by the question. Explain? I don't understand. I've already told you—

The reporter cut her off. Would you blame this on your lack of experience handling this incident?

Lack of experience? A homicidal monster came out of the ocean and attacked the colony. Who has any experience with something like that, hmm? Do you?

Stop dodging and answer the question, Doctor.

I, uh, ugh. Sure. My lack of experience cost the lives of forty people. There, is that what you wanted?

I could tell she regretted this interview. I could only wonder how the story had gotten out. family members of the deceased? Surviving colonists? Dr. Rupert herself? No way. She'd sworn to Glennsworth that the real story wouldn't get out.

The reporter stepped away from her and to another colonist. And to make matters worse, Dr. Rupert hired a band of ruthless, cutthroat mercenaries to take care of the creature. I'm here with Reggie Peters, a former patient during the events. Mr. Peters, can you tell us about these mercenaries?

Yeah, bunch of assholes, in my opinion. There was this one time they came into the infirmary after smashing up the Doc's lab. One of them, an Anuran, beat down a helpless old man with an IV pole! I mean, what kind of a sicko beats up a feeble old man?

He was attacking another patient! Sai yelled to the bartender again. I was helping!

The bartender's eyes popped. Wait, that was you guys?

Yeah, but it didn't go like that. That patient was a psycho. He was trying to strangle that woman!

The reporter shook her head. Disgusting. Truly disgusting. Were there any other incidents?

Come to think of it, yeah. They'd even beat up each other. One night at the cabana, they got all liquored up and took to swinging at each other. Nearly trashed the place.

I couldn't remember much of that night, but I did remember when Sai punched me in the face for calling his dad a conman. Not my brightest hour.

"Thank you, Mr. Peters. Surely, others are still traumatized by this terrible span of events. If there was one moment of respite for these brave survivors, it was that eventually, these mercenaries turned their wrathful gaze