Chapter 3 Prax
“Azkarra, give me a full rundown on this solar system,” I ask the onboard AI of the Bakartia, my sleek two-seater ship, as we drift toward the outer edge of the system.
“Two?” I blink.
Just finding one life-supporting planet is rare enough. Two in the same system? That's off the charts.
"Wait a second, didn’t you just say both are still viable?"
“Humans depleted Earth’s resources faster than the planet could replenish them.
They faced extreme climate collapse, pandemics, and violent conflicts.
Their population dropped from over nine billion to fewer than three hundred million in just a few years—a loss of about ninety-six percent.
These figures are outdated, though. The decline likely continued, and by now, Humans have all but disappeared from Earth's surface. As for other life forms, some of the more resilient ones managed to survive. And some of those species—both flora and fauna—have been partially relocated to the fourth planet.”
Stunned, I stare at the projections Azkarra displays along the side wall.
Rising temperatures. Extinction-level animal losses.
Spiking greenhouse gas levels. Mind-boggling volumes of waste. Global warfare everywhere, as if solving problems through violence was the only trick in their book.
Archived photos show wars involving weapons of mass destruction, and they make my fur bristle.
I never thought Humans could be this aggressive—or this shortsighted. I mean, come on, you don’t destroy a planet overnight. It must have taken them years to screw things up this badly.
One display highlights a floating garbage continent over 1.5 million square miles, and more than 100 feet high, drifting in what used to be oceans. Unbelievable.
On Sadjim, my homeworld, we're no saints. We’ll strip the weak bare without blinking. But wrecking the environment? That’s just self-destructive. You take care of the plants, they feed the bugs, which feed the critters you want to eat. It’s all about balance. Harm the chain, and you harm yourself.
“We’re heading past the outskirts of the fifth planet first!” Azkarra snaps, pulling me out of my thoughts. “It’s a gas giant called Jupiter. The others aren’t currently in this sector of the orbital plane. Which celestial body should I steer toward?”
I glance quickly at the schematic flashing in front of me and decide not to waste time on a system already well mapped by the Confederation.
My priority is to locate my former associate and have him locked up in one of my organization’s space prisons.
Ever since our partnership ended, he seems to have ditched any semblance of restraint in his galactic endeavors.
And more importantly, I can’t keep roaming the edges of space with this permanent threat hanging over me.
“Any clue that could point us to Bully’s whereabouts?” I ask.
“If he’s trying to hide, it would have to be in some ancient remaining structure on the third planet—Earth. That option holds a ninety-eight percent probability.”
“But you said that world’s devastated. Why would he hole up there?”
“Earth is indeed very sick. One could say on its deathbed. If my projections are accurate, any surviving life forms should be rare. Your former associate won’t risk being attacked, and his ship should provide a reliable shelter in case of climate threats.
Plus, he’ll be able to scavenge tradeable relics for future trafficking—something he won’t find on the other planet, which is much more sanitized. ”
With a swipe of my finger, I zoom in on the image of Earth—this gray, rather dull-looking planet, birthplace of Ileana... or at least her ancestors.
Ileana. The woman who crossed my path, touched my heart, and changed the course of my life.
She’s the reason I’m in this mess with Bully. He didn’t exactly take it well when I walked away from years of collaboration just to try and save a mere Human.
Can’t say I blame him. But that woman made me question everything I believed in at the time. Her honesty, her mind, her bravery—she got to me. And yeah, I’ll say it: she seduced me.
I would’ve gladly made her mine... but turns out she was already spoken for. Found that out a little too late.
Oh well. No regrets. The choices I made back then still sit right with me. My new line of work aligns far better with my values—even if it brings a lot more trouble.
“Then set course for Earth,” I say, wrapping it up. “And while you’re at it, give me all the essential info I’ll need down there.”
“Atmospheric pressure is at PA minus one-point-three, slightly lower than on Polaris or even Sadjim, your home planet. It’s a moderate shift.
I’ll gradually adjust the ship’s pressure so you won’t feel the difference upon arrival.
Same with oxygen levels—though chances are you’ll still need to keep your suit on if radiation levels are too high.
The last nuclear war on Earth hit nearly the entire globe. ”
“Lovely,” I mutter, amazed that anyone could wreck their own planet that badly.
“I’m also uploading the last known maps.
They’ll be outdated, of course—the rising oceans from climate change have drastically redrawn the coastlines.
Earth is still a sizable planet, and tracking Bully down won’t be easy.
Still, once we’re close enough, I should be able to detect the energy signature from his atmospheric entry. ”
Over the next few hours, Azkarra puts together a detailed map of the zones permanently uninhabitable due to radiation, leaving only a few faintly preserved regions—mostly at high altitudes.
With a bit of luck, while hunting for Bully, I might be able to dig up some edible roots. Or better yet, snag a local rodent once we’re down there.
I love my new life in the Confederation, I really do—but when it comes to food, let’s face it, it’s a total disaster.
Me, a full-blooded Sadjim, reduced to eating energy bars?
I don’t hold it against the Confed. I get it—out here, alone in my ship in the middle of deep space, food options are… limited. Still, I’d trade half my gear for something twitchy to sink my teeth into. At this point, any creature with a few drops of blood would feel like a feast.
“Can you tell me more about the fourth planet? The one that also has life?” I ask, mostly to distract myself.
“Of course. That small planet already had an atmosphere, though too thin to be truly viable. But all the necessary conditions for life were there. So the usual process was launched. The Confederation initiated terraforming on Mars, which reached completion a few decades later—much faster than on other worlds with harsher conditions!”
That’s one of the more fascinating activities of the Intergalactic Confederation.
In addition to cataloging lifeforms, they terraform planets when the circumstances allow.
Most of the time, the worlds selected are small, rocky planets ideally located for life to emerge—but they simply lacked either time or luck.
That’s where the Intergalactic Confederation’s tech steps in.
Gravity generators keep water and the artificially created oxygen layer in place long enough for a natural ozone barrier to strengthen permanently. Once the essential conditions are in place, they introduce seeds and the most adaptable pollinating insects to help the ecosystem take hold.
At first, the new world only hosts a few viable bases placed under an energy dome.
The local AI then gradually expands the force field containing breathable air.
Life begins to unfold. Plants deepen their roots, insects dig tunnels.
And when the AI decides the planet can sustain itself without assistance, it slowly retracts the field until the planet’s natural gravity alone holds the atmosphere in place.
Even then, the Confederation waits another ten years or so before adding more complex lifeforms.
As for Mars, the planet already had its own atmosphere. So the initial phase must’ve been significantly shorter.
“You said Humans had colonized that world... Mars?” I ask again after a moment. “You got more info on that?”
“When a Confederation agent returned to SS-3954-4 to check on the progress of the initiated terraforming, he also noticed the rapid decline in livability on neighboring Earth. He alerted the Confederation authorities, who came to assess the situation.”
“What did they decide?” I ask, curious to know how my superiors handled that kind of mess. “I thought the Intergalactic Confederation never interfered in the conflicts or internal problems of the worlds it visits?”
“That’s still true. They simply issued a few warnings.
The Human leaders protested, claiming they wouldn’t tolerate any advice on how to run their own affairs.
They even called it interference! In any case, Earth had reached the point of no return.
The Confederation limited its involvement to saving as many animal and plant species as possible—those compatible with long-distance travel and survival in Mars’s icy environment.
They also selected a few Human specimens.
Not the richest or the most powerful, as you can imagine—but those with strong empathy and adaptive intelligence, to integrate into some Confederation crews.
And they transferred just under fifty thousand Human colonists to the Martian infrastructures. That was the maximum limit.”
“That’s a dumb move. Why give a backup planet to a species that already proved it could corrupt a world to total destruction?”
“The Confederation found many individuals worthy and deserving, and recognized that the catastrophe wasn’t their fault—but the doing of powerful, unscrupulous people. But don’t worry—the Confederation only gave them a tiny portion of Mars. The rest is reserved for other animal species.”
As I’m about to protest, I remember Ileana. An exceptional Human. And I get it. How can you condemn an entire species for the mistakes of a few?