The Rogue of Space, Episode 1: Legends Carry On

By LG Curtis

What's life like for a human who adventures in a galaxy packed with other sentient species? It's a constant tight-rope act where balancing morals with one's interests plays a fundamental role. 

Koran, an MWG-Class StarCruiser captain, crash-lands on the planet of Shahll. Thankfully, this world has a breathable atmosphere &

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lauren Curtis
• Release date: Jul 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781778144714

LG Curtis

L.G. Curtis is a creative individual that loves to embrace changes that present new and improved ways of approaching life. Especially when it brings about a happier perspective, enriches the health and wellbeing of themselves as well as others. They also believe strongly in challenging themselves to make bold choices. They are someone who appreciates being out in nature and connecting with the world. Learning is what they believe to be (at least one of) the meaning(s) of life. Whether it be esoteric practices or curiously exploring the workings of the latest discoveries in a wide range of scientific fields. L.G. Curtis decided to undertake an Astronomy course just for having a greater understanding of what's out there beyond the boundaries of our planet's atmosphere & truly hopes to one day venture out amongst the other planetary bodies of our solar system and beyond. Terraforming new worlds with their imagination is one way that they fuel this mission of theirs, and they humbly wish to thank you for supporting them on this wondrous adventure through literature.


Book preview

PROLOGUE

The Diner Beside Space-Time, that’s where I find myself. It’s quite a name for an establishment, especially one that’s really just a colourful bar with very dim lighting. I mean, it’s true, their menu has specialty dishes added by the chefs, who are all from a wide variety of home worlds around our galaxy. I quite like the place, but most of those travelling through here and stopping by only take long enough to wolf down a plate, or bowl, before they can even appreciate the work that went into making their meal. They simply sit back, drinking some sort of alcohol or another. It’s all good. I on the other hand, I take my time; I scope out the scenery and occasionally talk with the servers. Having spent nearly 3 standard weeks here, most of the cooks even recognize me and call me by my preferred name. I pick a different first name on each new journey I set off on. A new chapter, a new name. I find that it’s a great way to sort of reinvent one’s self, and start off with a fresh outlook. Sure, there're quadrillions of inhabitants registered in the Galactic Council’s census, but I try to change up details about myself as often as I can.

Heya, Koran, good seeing ya! What can I get for you today? said the lovely waitress, Salim. Today she’s dressed in different shades of blue, with a pink undershirt showing and her very light but beautiful golden necklace catching my eye. I wonder where she got it from. It features a big golden fish surrounded by blue semiprecious, pearlescent gemstones. Perhaps she got it for herself, or she’s got family that makes jewelry or even a lover that goes out of their way to pick out gifts for their sweetheart. Can’t say that I’m surprised.

Salim, passes Koran a menu

The Triangular Buddha Platter has been on my mind, as of late. Bring me one of those, will ya? And a glass of hot water, please. She just smiled, picked up my menu and trotted back towards the front desk with my order to be passed over to the cooks. I watch her beautiful rose complexion and pointy ears as she makes her way to drop off my requested choice of lunch. Something about Zarillians, their pink and purple hues of skin tone or maybe it’s that all their females don’t show any hair on their heads, besides eyebrows and lashes, that’s always fascinated me. But that isn’t why I’m here. What I’m here for is a job. Or more precisely, the very fact that I’m looking for one.

A few weeks back, I had heard word that a travelling bounty contractor would make their way over to this very spot. When they come to set up shop, I want to be the first one to pick a contract once assignments go out. As I wait for my food, I close my eyes and concentrate on my other senses, besides sight. I feel the floor beneath my feet, and the weight of my arms as I stand at an upright table. There’s also a slight breeze brushing the skin of my face every so often, from the bladeless fans circulating the air. I smell the food that’s brought to a table near me. Smells like caramelized onions on top of Tarna noodles with black bean sauce and crushed chilli flakes. I can hear them shaking dunda seeds repeatedly over top. Dunda plants grow vigorously here, so I’ve heard, and the staff let patrons toss on as much of the highly nutritious seeds as they feel like. Being packed with vitamin-Bs and Omega-3 fatty acids, plus an array of beneficial proteins, I usually do the same. Then I hear the front doors glide open, and what sounds like four sets of footsteps. One person’s clearly in front, another behind them is on the phone, talking conspicuously about clothing, but clearly I can tell the subjects really just mentioned to deter listeners from what’s really being bartered over. Behind them there’s two others, one of which seems to stop shortly after entering the restaurant and the other follows whoever’s on the phone.

I open my eyes to see the three beings who’ve continued to make their way into the establishment. The one upfront is clearly a cyber-mechanical being of some sort. I should have been able to tell before I’d even opened my eyes. But something about the design of the servos operating their leg movements clearly masked that, and masked it well. The goon, for lack of a better word, following the short man on the phone, seems to be almost seven feet tall and easily over 200 standard Earth pounds of pure bones and muscle. Couldn’t be over 2% body fat, I question how healthy that could be. But I’m feeling certain that this individual’s been specially cloned with the proper genetics to fit such a profile. That leaves us with a hooded figure by the door, clearly watching over all activity and a small Gorbulon who’s still chatting away.

Ahh, but one cannot simply find this fine grade of silk at every interstellar market. This is made especially by the crafters of generations that lead all the way back to its inception. I assure you, you won’t be able to find quality like this elsewhere, & your clients will gladly pay triple. Either accept the offer and send the funds securely now, or I’ll be speaking with your competitors and you’ll be out of business before the next fiscal quarter. He pauses to hear whoever they are speaking with’s response, then a big grin erupts on their face before bursting with a short, loud laugh. They quickly compose themselves and say. Of course you have a choice, and the right one to choose is to make a lot of money. Plus, your clients will be thrilled, let me assure you. You know that so much silk on the market these days is processed in facilities that don’t consider an inkling of the health for the end users. Now I know they aren’t talking about fabrics. "This stuff will not only be 100% toxic residue free, it’s also said to be quite the catalyst of good health. The native crafters, of the umm-silk, make use of it as their primary medicine. Boosting life-force and