“Arthur Simmons?”
Before the other man could draw his weapon, Sarcadi offered a swift greeting.
He was reasonably certain the person in front of him was the one he was looking for. As for why his client wasn't waiting at the designated handover point and had instead fled to this peripheral planet, that was a question to be settled later.
“You are...”
The man hesitated. He no longer seemed aggressive, but his hand remained behind his back, never lowering.
“Clark sent me to say hello,” the Core Seed said with a lazy smile. His words were a blend of truth and lies, designed primarily to bait information. “He’s been a bit busy lately, so he asked me to deliver the goods to you.”
Though his face was hidden, the man’s head shifted slightly, clearly looking back and forth between Sarcadi and the Armed Species. Finally, his gaze settled on Sarcadi’s pitch-black wings—wings that clearly did not belong to the Grey-wing tribe.
“I don’t know any Clark,” the stranger replied stiffly.
*Quite the cautious one.*
“Then I suppose I’ll just haul this shipload of Star Core energy back where it came from?” The Core Seed let out a short laugh. “Would you like me to show you the transport ship Clark so graciously sponsored?”
“You are not a member of the Grey-wing tribe,” the masked mystery man said, unmoved. “Why are you here?”
“Because your distress signal was sent to my ship.”
This sentence was spoken in perfect, standard Human Universal. Sarcadi reached out to disengage his outer armor, exposing himself completely as he recited a string of digital handover codes he had obtained from his boss.
“Clark is a bit tied up lately and couldn't make it. I’m his partner.”
“Perhaps because my command of the human language is so excellent, I was saddled with this unfortunate task—traveling thousands of miles to deliver goods and handle a rescue on the side.”
“Are you sure you want to have a long chat here?” The black Core Seed flicked his scaled tail, looking at the man with a half-smile. “My schedule is tight. There’s a surcharge for delayed rescues.”
“My apologies. Please forgive my excessive caution.”
To Sarcadi's surprise, the mysterious guest turned out to be quite polite. The moment he heard those numbers, his shoulders relaxed.
“I will verify my identity with you privately later.”
“However, he usually comes in person. May I ask if something has happened to him?”
Despite the restrained tone, Sarcadi could still sense a subtle undercurrent of worry in the man's words. He waved a hand dismissively. “He’s fine. Just too busy, so he let me take this run for him.”
The man didn't look like he believed it, which only made the Core Seed more curious about his relationship with his boss.
However, more important than any of that was getting these people out of here. Everything else could wait.
This human named Arthur clearly had an unusual relationship with Clark. If Sarcadi accidentally let him kick the bucket during the rescue, he suspected that silver-grey female would rip his head off on the spot.
“Is this your entire group?”
Continuing in the human tongue, he offered a greeting to the other two figures who were bundled up tightly. Those two... presumably humans, stood at a distance. They were clearly not as comfortable around Zerg as Arthur was, maintaining a distance that would allow them to bolt at a moment's notice.
“Yes.”
As the leader, Arthur took on the responsibility of communication. He called his two companions closer, then turned to face Sarcadi. “Could I trouble you to escort us out?”
“Follow me.”
The Core Seed was brief. He gestured again to the Armed Species, who stood like expressionless statues in the background as if they had heard nothing, signaling them to prepare for withdrawal.
“Is your outer armor intact?” he asked the humans, looking back.
“It is. We simply didn't carry any Devourer-class weapons. Our flight craft was contaminated by the Xenogeneics earlier, making it difficult to escape.”
Judging by his voice alone, Arthur was very calm, lacking the panic typical of those being rescued.
“The scope of this tide's expansion is quite large. Our ship should also be within the affected zone.”
“Get on my ship.”
Sarcadi did not put his outer armor back on; the gear was indeed somewhat inconvenient for a female's movements. He could afford to wander leisurely on the way in, but escorting three humans back required more focus.
He merely disliked Xenogeneic pollution; he wasn't so biased that he couldn't prioritize the mission.
The humans reset the building's systems and closed the hidden passage, signaling they were ready to leave.
In truth, Sarcadi was more curious about what lay behind that steel corridor that had lured these three unlucky souls here, but he could figure that out slowly later.
And so, a strange combination of four Core Seeds and three suspected humans appeared on the desolate planet of VX193.
This scene would have looked absurd anywhere.
The only ones chatting happily were Sarcadi and Arthur. Both were proficient in both the human tongue and the Zerg Universal language. On the return journey, they spoke intermittently, transitioning seamlessly between the two languages.
The remaining humans and Zerg looked anything but happy.
The Armed Species felt no goodwill toward the humans requiring rescue; if anything, long-term hostility left them with a lingering sense of faint loathing. The humans felt much the same; no normal person enjoyed being near bugs.
However, Sarcadi noticed something very strange about his trade partner.
Unlike himself, who had learned Zerg Universal through intensive study later in life, the other man was highly proficient in both—perhaps even more so in the Zerg tongue.
Whenever the conversation turned to Zerg technology, Arthur often couldn't find the right words in the human language and would instinctively switch to Zerg to explain things to Sarcadi.
Subconscious choices do not lie, and they are difficult to fake.
It was as if a Zerg wearing a human identity and a human wearing a Zerg skin were communicating with each other.
Fortunately, the return journey was uneventful. It took very little time for the entire team to return to the flight craft.
The equipment Sarcadi and his team had brought down was more than sufficient; escorting a few uninjured targets was not difficult.
The mission was only considered over once the small flight craft pulled them directly back into the *Alpha* battleship.
The humans were led into a special chamber for decontamination to thoroughly eradicate any light pollution sources that might have adhered to their outer armor before they could remove their suits.
During the wait, Kleiman kept a cold face. Sarcadi suspected he hadn't known the specific details of Clark’s business dealings with humans before this.
Seizing the moment, Sarcadi gave the tail-swishing fellow’s tail a vigorous tug, earning an expectedly fierce glare in return.
“Is there something wrong with you?!”
“Don't overthink things.” The Core Seed sat down casually on a clean patch of floor and patted the spot beside him. “Manage your team. Make sure they know which things shouldn't be repeated. I’ll handle the rest.”
“I know that,” Kleiman said, his wings twitching irritably with a faint buzzing sound—a sign of his mild agitation.
After looking around for a moment, he sat down beside Sarcadi with some reluctance. However, the pride of a high-tier species kept him sitting bolt upright, his gaze drifting toward the distance.
“Clark never allowed us into Kamlan before.”
“You don't like him doing business with humans, do you?” Sarcadi looked over with golden-brown eyes, his tone uncharacteristically devoid of mockery. “Is it because you hate humans?”
“I don't like humans,” Kleiman said, his tail thumping against the floor as he spoke slowly. “But that isn't what matters.”
“I can control all the Armed Species; they obey me. But if the other Grey-wing tribes find out about this, they—”
“So you're worried about Clark.” The gold-flecked eyes watched him gently under the lights, as if seeing through the unspoken words. “You're worried that if the other tribe members find out, they’ll attack Clark. You don't understand why he’s making these deals, and you want to persuade him to stop—to not go any further.”
“...Yes.” After a long silence, the tail-swishing fellow gave a low response. “If Krisha catches him, he’ll be made an enemy of the entire tribe.”
“You like Clark very much. More than your own kin, Krisha.”
The Core Seed didn't react to this unusually somber display with any special behavior; he simply spoke calmly.
“When... the Purge War happened, he was the one who picked us up.”
At the mention of his kin, Kleiman’s expression remained flat. “The Sub-Queen made a disastrous decision in the face of the Hard-wing tribe’s assault. The fleet retreated prematurely, leaving the males, the larvae, and the sub-adult females to suffer heavy casualties with nowhere to run.”
“The Hard-wing tribe is savage. They slaughter and devour all enemies. The bug tide nearly swept through the entire core area where the Queen’s nest was located.”
“Even direct-line sub-adult females don't have enough strength to resist Hard-wing species in their prime. To say nothing of the other males and larvae.”
His voice gradually grew quieter until it was barely audible. “It wasn't until Clark’s reinforcements arrived that we were spared. But his own... they weren't so lucky.”
“Once he’s willing to take a call, I’ll have a chat with Clark,” Sarcadi said, staring at the ceiling of the battleship corridor, his gaze similarly unfocused.
“I think he has his own considerations. He isn't the type to make decisions on a whim; you should understand that better than I do.”
“If it turns out he really did this because his brain short-circuited, I don't mind if you call me to help you give him a beating,” the black female added finally, patting the tail-swishing fellow on the shoulder.
Who wouldn't love a chance to pummel their boss for free?
Kleiman instantly recovered from his low mood, turning to stare at this audacious Core Seed with an indescribable look.
“Go by yourself,” he refused curtly, his tail immediately curling into a shape that signaled rejection.
Just as Sarcadi was about to say something more, the humans, having finished their decontamination, happened to walk out.
Two middle-aged men were in the back, while a young man who looked to be under twenty walked at the front.
The youth had quiet, lake-blue eyes that gave him an aura far more composed than his actual age suggested.
Before the other could even approach, the tail-swishing fellow had already reverted to his cold persona and stood up, leaving only the black Core Seed sitting lazily where he was.
The youth leaned down slightly and extended a hand toward Sarcadi. His voice was gentle.
“Please allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Arthur Simmons, and I believe I am the person you were sent to find.”
*******
After the white male had locked himself in the core chamber of the Information Nest for a day and a half, the door finally opened again.
Gela stumbled out, blood dripping from his chin, staining his entire front red.
Xiao, who had been waiting outside, nearly jumped out of his skin with fright. En and Enna also scrambled to their feet, and the three of them rushed forward to catch him.
“What... what happened to you? First, we need... medical treatment!”
Speaking incoherently, Xiao rested Gela's head on his shoulder, trying to stop the blood flowing from his ears and nose.
But Gela gripped his hand.
“Call Selin here.” The male’s strength was immense, leaving a bloody handprint on Xiao. “I won't be able to use any information connectors for a short while. I need you to find Selin immediately and have him come to the Information Nest to see me.”
By the time the deep-brown mid-tier female received the call from his male and rushed over, Gela’s bleeding had stopped, but the red and pink stains on his body were still terrifying.
Xiao’s voice had sounded panicked over the comms, which had frightened the mid-tier species immensely, causing him to drop everything and reach the location in the shortest time possible.
Whether it was his male or En and Enna, everyone seemed terrified by the sudden turn of events.
They huddled tightly around the white bug, as if physical closeness could protect him.
“I connected to the Great Information Nest. Only for a brief moment.”
Before Selin could ask anything, Gela made a silencing gesture and spoke his first words.
The sentence froze the mid-tier species in his tracks.
Before he could even react, the white male calmly spoke his second sentence.
“The Grey-wing tribe has split. The current Sub-Queen, Krisha, has come into conflict with Clark. Clark has issued a challenge for a Death Match.”
“The Energy Planet may be swept into the strife. I need you to be prepared to evacuate at any time.”
***
