Condition Evolution 3: A LitRPG / Gamelit Adventure by Kevin Sinclair (ereader with dictionary .txt) 📕

an absolute pro, which was impressive considering how nervous he was looking. Facing his father was clearly an extremely uncomfortable prospect for him. We landed our shuttle in a docking bay. It would have been easy enough to find even without coordinates. The entire planet looked almost empty apart from one large city. And when I say large, I don’t mean massive, it was just a bang-average-sized city, and was the only place permitted to receive incoming space-faring vehicles.

Calegg told us it was the capital, unimaginatively named Torax Prime. He regaled us on how only the commercial and ruling Torax lived and worked here. The vast majority of the population were spread out across the planet in small mining villages.

This city was where control was exerted, where all money changed hands and where the Suldr was brought to be sold to races far and wide across the galaxy.

When we finally docked, I patted Calegg on the back. “Good job, mate. That was some good flying… I know this is difficult for you, but don’t worry about it. We’ve got your back. We trust you and think you’re the man. Okay?”

“The man?” he replied, looking at me, confused.

“You're cool. You know what you're doing, eh. We respect you. Yeah?”

“Yes, Captain. I’m the man. I can do this.”

“Sure you can, Calegg,” Ember said, smiling.

Not wanting to give him any more time to dwell, I clapped my hands together loudly. “Let's get to it, gang. We’ve got Suldr to buy, and Torax to smuggle. “I didn’t wait for a response and headed to the craft’s exit ramp, sending a quick thought to Havok, who flew over to my back with a whoop.

After our successes so far, I was feeling supremely confident about our chances here. That was until the ramp lowered and we were blasted with heat, like the opening of an oven door. It was unreal. I turned away toward Ember, who looked easily as uncomfortable as me.

“Dude, how damn hot is it here?” I asked him.

“I don’t know. It feels mild. The hot season can be unbearable at times,” Calegg said, nonchalantly.

“Calegg, you mad bastard. This temperature is right at the top end of what Ember and I can handle. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“How would I know to tell you? This is fine for me. I know you two like it cold on the ship, but that doesn’t really bother me either. Temperature is not a concern for Torax.” He turned, giving us both a deprecating smile.

“That’s not the point, mate. We’re not Torax!”

“Then maybe you should check the surface temperatures of the planets you land on now and again,” he said sarcastically. At least our discomfort had taken his mind from his stressful responsibility, although the worried look returned to his face a moment later as he stared intently at an approaching Torax garbed in robes.

All that the Torax knew of our arrival was that we were here to trade for Suldr. Even though there were plenty of people around, only this one old Torax approached us. He did a double-take when he saw Calegg, and his neutral expression turned to a frown. “So, someone gave you a job, Calegg. What do they have you doing? Cleaning their toilets?” he said as he came within a few feet of us.

Calegg stood up straighter. “No, father. I’m their pilot.”

The old man turned to look at Ember and me. “You let my son fly your ship?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Your son is a fine man. We’re privileged to have him fly our ship,” I answered neutrally, but I already hated the shithead.

“Who are you that allows a Torax such an honored position? I do not recognize your race?”

“We’re humans,” Ember answered, voice dripping with distaste at Calegg’s father’s rude opening statements.

“Again, I do not know that race. Where are you from? Are you not aware of our reputation among the galaxy's inhabitants?”

“We’re from the Fystr Empire. We know of your reputation. We’re not gonna judge you by it,” Ember replied in clipped tones.

“The Fystr, you say. Now, I have heard of them. They annexed much of the galaxy. They are immensely powerful, are they not?”

“Sure are, although they’re our enemies. Most of the planets in their Empire are filled with humans like us, who are subjugated and oppressed,” she continued.

“Interesting. So, why are you here with my son? Something tells me it is more than Suldr that brings you.”

Calegg chirped up this time, which I was relieved about. “We need more crew members, father. I intend to smuggle those who would leave on to our ship. We’ve many enemies, enemies of the Torax people also. My friends here killed Mazltor, ten Tri-bor and an Ang-bor on Necrus. They have much honor.”

“Whether they are honorable or not, I will not risk our people, Calegg. We have peace, and we are left alone by the Empire for the most part. We are happy on Torax!” he shouted the last bit to leave us in no doubt about his stance.

I was surprised to hear Calegg reply so vehemently, “You’re slaves, nothing more! Mining our planet's precious resources for money-grabbing bastards, who despise us and underpay us for the pleasure. What’ll you do when the Suldr runs out?” Calegg started ranting.

“I see you have not matured in your time away,” his father said with an expression that conveyed both smugness and disappointment.

“I’ve matured. You just seem to bring out the worst in me. I’m sorry for my outburst. Please, don’t judge my friends by it.”

“I will not. Now, are you here for trade, too, or was that a ruse? If it was, then you may leave now.”

“We’ll still trade,” I said.

“Good,” he said shortly, “follow me. I will take you to the trade hall, where we can do business in comfort.”

We followed along, amid stares and whispers, although most seemed to be directed at Calegg. I was beginning to really struggle in the heat, and that took most of my attention. Our Fystr outfits were