Chapter 4
A Blood-Heating New Rival
Khar
"Honored Vegrun’nur’Aghar,
Welcome message from Vitromium to Vegrun
Khar stood on the deck of the Vitromium luxury cruiser, checking the control consoles in the command hub. This was the first chrono-cycle his new colleague would report for duty, and he could not wait to demonstrate, once again, that he alone belonged at the top of the hierarchy.
Their employer, a famous oligarch obsessively protective of his privacy, insisted on hiring only the finest species to maintain the cruiser and guard him whenever he felt like traveling.
Khar, however, always made sure from the very first meeting that he was the one in charge, and that his counterpart slipped neatly into the role of obedient second.
He hummed to himself, in an unusually good mood as he imagined how he would intimidate the newcomer. Challenge them to a grapple the moment they stepped aboard? No. Last time Vegrun had warned him to give others a little time before he started throwing them around.
That left one option.
He would assign something especially grueling, something Khar could breeze through, and there would be no doubt left about who was superior.
His attention drifted to the scent he had caught in the gym a few chrono-cycles earlier. It had haunted him ever since. He had even considered asking the ship’s owner how refined it would be to use that aroma as Vitro’s ambient fragrance. Khar certainly would not mind smelling it all the time.
How did one even describe a scent like that? Soft. Luxurious. Never intrusive. Sexy, and yet somehow as if it cleansed the soul.
Far too good for his employer, really.
But Khar would never deprive himself of a good experience.
A polite chime from the console snapped him back. Someone had arrived at the dock and was requesting entry.
Khar rubbed his hands together in satisfaction and headed for the cruiser’s main airlock.
He had already chosen the first small but certain psychological blow he would deal the new hire.
"Vitro, raise gravity ten percent above universal standard."
Not enough to stop anyone from working, but more than enough to make simple existence more tiring. Khar had long since conditioned his body to the higher load. His counterpart, if they did not complain immediately, would start grumbling soon enough.
He could hardly wait.
A huge display beside the main pressure gate showed the visitor waiting outside.
Even inside the environmental exosuit, the being looked short and slight.
These suits were not designed for long walks in hard vacuum.
They were typically worn by lifeforms whose breathing or skeletal systems were not suited to standard environments and needed gravitational or other corrections to function in common spaces.
Perfect.
If standard gravity already strains them, what will they say to the extra weight?
With a flick of his hand, he granted entry. When they finally stood face to face, he noted with deep satisfaction how far he towered over the newcomer.
"I am Khar. I have been Vitromium’s chief maintainer for three universal chrono-years."
A small light flared beside the suit’s speaker, indicating the being was about to reply, but Khar cut in before any sound could escape.
"I do not care who you are until you prove yourself. Once I am certain you will keep your position, I will learn your name. Now move. We have work to do."
The being dipped its head in the smallest of nods and followed Khar into the cruiser’s depths.
Vitromium was vast, modern, and above all luxurious.
Its generous spaces and minimalist design satisfied the demands of most species.
Its manufacturer catered exclusively to the highest echelon, so not only the quality and equipment, but the price as well, was astronomical.
Ordinary star citizens rarely set foot on one, let alone owned a ship like this.
The only product tangentially associated with Herion starcruisers that could be called remotely affordable was the VoidBrace, a wrist-mounted quantum computer.
Those who could not dream of owning a Herion, yet adored the brand, often saved for hundreds of chrono-cycles just to obtain one.
To interface properly with Vitro, you needed a VoidBrace, and Khar could see the newcomer already had one mounted on their exosuit.
Either a maniacal Herion fan, or Vegrun had sent it ahead. Knowing Vegrun, Khar would have bet a significant sum on the first option.
Fine by him. It meant he did not have to provide one.
Before they entered the cargo bay, Khar performed a quick scan and registered the being’s VoidBrace to Vitro’s systems with severely limited user privileges.
Time to test the upstart.
"We are in Cargo Two. A fresh resupply for the next half universal chrono-year just arrived. Load everything into stasis. You have until evening."
Without further instruction, Khar strode off, leaving the newcomer alone with the task.
He was certain they would not be able to complete it. Loading under increased gravity? He almost wanted to clap himself on the shoulder for how cleverly he had arranged this little hazing.
Or training, as he would call it if anyone asked.
If they wanted to work with him, they had to handle this challenge.
Starcruisers and ships might share standard elements, but their sorting schemes and command trees were as different as worlds in a galaxy.
Just deciphering the organizational logic would take time.
That was not even counting the fact that Khar had "accidentally" taken the anti-grav hand-fork that made moving crates effortless. Oops.
Back in the central control room, Khar cast one more glance at the being through the camera system.
As expected, they were staring at the mountain of crates in clear confusion.
He set a rule for Vitro to alert him if the newcomer left the designated storage sections, then dove into his own work, which stretched past midday.
Dessert after lunch, he decided with a small, cruel smile, would be a leisurely walk down to the cargo bay to enjoy the recruit’s flailing.
Khar liked his job.
Afternoon came too quickly, along with a navigation glitch in Vitro’s systems that he could not resolve despite several attempts.
It was not serious enough to abort takeoff, but Khar preferred to be ready for anything.
A content employer meant a stable, well-paid position that was not overly taxing.
He intended to keep it.
Muttering under his breath, he descended toward the cargo bay. On the way, he composed a neat line of insults to hurl at the useless head that now technically fell under his supervision.
The bay door slid open.
Khar forced a professionally neutral expression onto his face. That proved difficult when the scent hit him again, sharp and clean.
Am I hallucinating it now?
"How is the unload going?" he asked in a tone that was almost innocent, at least by his standards.
His long stride faltered as he stepped into the bay and took in the empty space.
The newcomer sat in one of the rest-chairs, casually scrolling through their wristband.
"Oh, Khar, finally! I was just about to come find you. What’s next?"
In that instant, Khar discovered what true vacuum felt like.
Because inside his skull, that was all that remained.
The bay was empty. The job was finished. A job he himself could not have done in this time even with loading gear, and he had been working here for three chrono-years. He could load this ship blindfolded.
No.
Impossible.
He swallowed hard and retreated to the only ground that had never failed him: criticizing others.
"Let us not get ahead of ourselves. I will check how you stowed it."
The being tilted their head, as if not entirely sure what Khar wanted, then shrugged one shoulder. Something in Khar’s psyche flashed a warning at the familiarity of the gesture, but he brushed it aside. He had bigger problems.
"Do you want me to show you, or would you rather…?" the newcomer began, uncertain.
With a grunt, Khar dismissed them and stepped out of the bay so they would not see his console or overhear his exchange with Vitro.
"Vitro, report on recent storage operations. Give me inventory levels in universal chrono-cycles."
Data pinged to his VoidBrace, but Vitro, ever helpful, summarized aloud.
"Khar, food stores loaded for four hundred cycles. Medical and hygiene equipment for two hundred fifty cycles. Protective gear, technical and maintenance supplies for one hundred seventy-nine cycles. Other consumables sufficient for two hundred thirty cycles."
Khar’s hand trembled, just barely, as he closed the console. In all the time he had served aboard, Vitro had never misreported stock levels.
Still, manual verification was in order.
His broad shoulders barely fit between the racks, but he moved through the inventory at a steady pace.
The crates were there.
Stowed.
Secured.
Scanned.
Khar gave himself a quick shake, as if he could fling off the sticky, unpleasant feeling clinging to him. Nothing was lost yet. He only needed another task. He had not planned for this outcome. He had calculated the new worker would need at least two chrono-cycles to finish.
Fine.
He would adapt.
And he would come out on top.
When he stepped back into the cargo bay, he faltered, thrown by the absence of the black exosuit.
The being had removed the bulky suit and now sat in the same rest-chair as before, their small body relaxed, back turned to Khar in the doorway.
Khar smiled.
They must need a break, finally feeling the inevitable crush of increased gravity that made even breathing an effort.
"I checked the stock. Acceptable."
The being turned their head toward him.
Dark eyes without the inner glow typical of Divani.
Pale, almost white skin, so fragile it looked as though blood might be visible beneath the surface.
A nose like a Divani’s, only smaller. A mouth without the blade-edged incisors of his species.
By any measure, a face far less frightening than that of a Divani.
Yet deep inside, Khar shivered as if he were facing his worst nightmare.
Which, as it turned out, he was.
The being smiled when they saw him.
"I like the raised gravity. Means I do not have to wear the suit for compensation. Do you think there is a chance we could take it a little higher?"
Khar had found his challenger.
He already knew what to call them.
The Usurper.