"One last question: what is on VX197?"
Sarkadi mentally sifted through all the information he had gathered and reached a decision.
"I’ve done the math. Given your scale and armament, you couldn't possibly consume such a massive amount of Star Core energy—this shipment is enough to power a starship, far beyond the specifications required by ordinary surface troops."
"Star Core energy is strictly regulated by humans. I don't believe you intend to sell it. If you, as Federation remnants, aren't trading resources with other factions, then there must be another use for this stuff."
"Clark is a clever one; he wouldn't supply a quantity that far exceeds your actual needs."
Sarkadi’s golden-brown eyes calmly observed the young man's reaction.
"VX197 is the site of the Golden Crow Fleet’s ruins, and it’s close enough to your station for you to risk patrolling it during xenogeneic tides. I don't believe it’s an irrelevant planet."
However, Arthur shook his head.
He did not answer the question. He neither concocted a lie that could be seen through nor disclosed the truth.
"Fine," the black Core Species chuckled. "Your lips are sealed tight."
"Even at this stage, you won't talk."
"You requested that I be honest about my relationship with Clark to dispel your suspicions." The young man looked at him with a smile. "Does my answer meet your standards for passing?"
"As for any inquiry that might harm the human race or Clark himself, I cannot provide an explanation. I hope you can understand."
*A big fox raised a little fox.*
Sarkadi couldn't help but sigh. Gela, whom he had raised himself, now seemed to be running on a different track, sprinting headlong toward evolving into a little wildcat.
"Depending on the situation, I might not get involved in the Gray-Winged Tribe's internal strife, nor will I head to their core habitat—if you can accept that."
He decided to "tear off the roof" first; that way, if he needed to "open a window" later, the other party's level of acceptance and psychological expectations would be more flexible.
As he spoke, he beckoned to the Armed Species who had just finished their mission and returned to the starship.
"Come, meet your new roommate."
A slow question mark practically formed over the head of the "Tail-Wagging Brother."
The Core Species merely gave the young man one last look, offering no further explanation regarding the matter.
"I'll give you half a day to settle your affairs, then report back here."
This was different from the original plan. Who would have thought a delivery run would yield such a "local specialty"? This particular specialty was quite a handful, in every sense of the word, because the boy's identity was far too unique.
Arthur Simmons stood balanced between humans and Zerg, raised by a female of a Core Genetic Tribe, stationed at Camlann, and carrying the status of a Federation remnant.
Most people couldn't stack that many "buffs" if they tried.
Once he utilized this "local specialty" properly, he could revitalize the entire situation.
According to the data, Krisha was far less reliable than Clark. The latter was at least willing to show an intent to cooperate with certain human factions. Whether from the perspective of personal acquaintance or long-term planning, Clark was a much better trading partner than the current Sub-King.
Ja’s surface forces were too thin. The difference between the Core Tribes and the low-to-mid-tier species was vast; one wrong move could tear the territory he had worked so hard to build into pieces.
It was actually a multiple-choice question with only one answer. If at all possible, he had to push Clark into power.
And that silver-gray female Zerg had no other choice either, which was why he had insisted on arranging for Arthur to deliver the goods.
By exposing Arthur Simmons—his weakness—to Sarkadi, Clark was betting that if he fell in the death-struggle of the "underling overthrowing the superior," Sarkadi would be forced to hold his nose and accept this act of "entrusting the orphan."
And now, Sarkadi had indeed taken him in.
No one could allow such a collection of "buffs" to run wild across the universe.
Thus, when they set off again, the five Armed Species had dark expressions and long faces, for they discovered an unperturbed human had joined the starship.
Kleiman cornered Sarkadi in the resting nest, his tail lashing with a sharp *crack*.
"Explain."
Though his face was expressionless, Sarkadi read the sentiment clearly: *We just finished talking, and you’ve already mixed yourself up with a human. You stabbed me in the back.*
Tail-Wagging Brother was truly easy to read.
"He’s useful to have around. I’ll tell you why later."
The Core Species had no intention of broadcasting the history of his boss’s acquaintance. If Arthur had any sense, he would keep that past tightly under wraps as well.
Sarkadi himself had almost twisted Gela’s head off when he first woke up; not all Zerg could accept this kind of cross-species friendship.
"More importantly, have you made contact with the satellite base?"
"I have."
Kleiman’s attention was diverted by the question, and his expression turned grim. "Nearly half of the garrison has been recalled to the Core Star Realm. The specific reason is unknown."
"We have temporarily lost contact with the Nest Habitat."
*Because you’re having a coup.*
Sarkadi swallowed the news, losing the joy of a spoiler. But that didn't stop him from "shearing the wool": "Have your companions help keep an eye on Ja. Don't let the Energy Planet fall into chaos."
"I’m worried that with the garrison reduced, some Zerg will take the opportunity to cause trouble. There are too many males and elderly females there, plus the refining production chain. The females assigned to my command aren't sufficient."
"You invest too much energy in useless things."
Dark gray eyes looked at him as Kleiman showed a hint of disapproval. "You let males manage the Information Nest and give habitats to those elderly females who have lost their combat effectiveness. These are not rational actions."
*One cannot get angry at a fool.*
This was a universal truth throughout the cosmos.
"During the expulsion war, when you saw Clark’s starship appear, were you happy?" the Core Species asked him.
"Or rather, did you hope the retreating fleet would turn around and save your tribesmen from being slaughtered?"
"I did."
After a moment of hesitation, the other party gave an honest answer.
Sarkadi patted his shoulder.
"My tribe feels the same," he said. "They want to live, so I let them live."
Tail-Wagging Brother looked at him, opening his mouth as if to speak, but ultimately said nothing.
His insect wings drooped, rubbing back and forth restlessly.
It was truly an interesting thing.
The Core Species' former attitude had been "blast any Zerg on sight."
However, after being forced to change identities and home courts, he discovered that the personality differences between different tribes and individual members were actually quite large.
This race was, overall, extremely bellicose and admired the strong. Strength was the most persuasive passport; the weak could hardly survive.
But beyond that, they also had their own preferences—
Kleiman refused to obey the Sub-King and turned to follow Clark.
Selin was heavily injured, prone on the ground, begging for his help.
Kata died to protect a male he didn't even know.
Gela, even after partially decoding Sarkadi's identity, still hadn't given up the fight for partner status.
The most deviant of all was Clark, who hailed from a Core Genetic Tribe yet raised a human orphan.
It was so interesting that Sarkadi found himself constantly revising his blueprint for the future, changing his methods for handling certain issues again and again.
There was no such thing as a perfect plan laid out from the start. Everything in this world was in constant flux. Planning was like writing code—writing while patching bugs. As long as the whole program could wobble along and run, it was considered fine.
"I can't control other Zerg, but for the tribe members and allies within my protection, I have a responsibility to consider their safety."
Seeing Kleiman’s one-track mind frantically digging into a dead end, Sarkadi finally understood the feeling behind the saying, "When humans think, God laughs."
"Don't overthink it. If you and Clark encounter danger, I will do my best to assist, provided it doesn't jeopardize my own tribe. This has nothing to do with whether you are strong or whether you have utility value."
"Mhm."
Kleiman finally let out another grunt.
His "cold and aloof" persona hadn't crumbled at all; judging by his expression, he looked like a prison warden interrogating a prisoner in a small room, but his tail swept behind him with a hint of awkwardness.
"Go get to work."
Sarkadi sighed. They had chatted in the resting nest for too long, and he was a bit worried that the other Armed Species might beat up the human they found so eyesore—those Zerg, whose brains were filled with nothing but muscle and dark glares, were truly capable of such a thing.
The amount of work to handle was explosive. A split in the Gray-Winged Tribe was no small skirmish like the Sacrifice Games; if things went wrong, the ship would capsize, and they all had to be prepared.
"Our time is tight. Choose the fastest route and take a few more jump points. Don't worry about saving energy."
Under no circumstances would he let Gela link to the Great Information Nest again.
Things were far from as easy as the male had claimed. If the boy had bothered to look in a mirror, he would have known his face was pale enough to play a dead Zerg. He couldn't even maintain his disguise while communicating.
Forcing a link could easily fry one's brain—in the literal sense.
Unlike the brain accelerators sold by the black-market dealers he used to bust, the Great Information Nest and the Data Firmament that formed the base of the Inner Ring Network were not on the same level as those cyber-stimulants.
If Gela dared to reverse-trace the Great Information Nest without protection again, Sarkadi would absolutely drag the male into the nest the moment he returned to Ja and punish him until he was buzzing.
The Core Species, who had just made a cold and ruthless decision a second ago, finished his rounds and returned to his own nest. Upon seeing the boxes placed in the corner, the thought "Maybe I'll punish him next time" immediately surfaced.
He had made a small, private trade with Arthur for some insignificant items.
Though Camlann was barren, the humans living there occasionally traveled to the nearby Little Rose Star Sector to purchase living supplies.
After all, humans had to eat.
When he heard the request, the young man had given him a knowing look, then efficiently sourced the trinkets he wanted.
"A gift for your partner?"
After arranging everything at Camlann, the young man had boarded the ship alone as quickly as possible, smiling as he handed over two small boxes.
"He’s not my part—forget it."
Sarkadi was numb. He was tired, and no matter how many times he explained, no one believed him, so he had entered a state of "sure, whatever you say."
"Thank you," he said to the young man.
"May I ask, what aspects do Zerg generally value when choosing a partner?" Arthur asked casually. "You and your partner seem to have a very good relationship."
Sarkadi: "Huh?"
What kind of top-tier student was this? As a lifelong bachelor, he had spent the first half of his previous life fighting and the second half lying in bed. Having finally gained a new life and recovered his vitality, he had immediately picked up a sub-adult male Zerg.
The time Gela had taken the initiative had scared him so much he’d run out of the nest to eat the wind all night. He didn't understand Zerg mating views at all.
In the beginning, he had actually been quite fierce. He didn't know why the white Zerg thought he looked good; perhaps that was the power of a filter.
"...Try to appear reliable, I suppose."
A man couldn't say he was incapable, especially regarding a question of character and self-esteem. He could only fudge an answer for the young man.
"Most Zerg like powerful beings. If it's a partner, a gentle attitude is also important."
Gela really liked having his head patted.
Sarkadi didn't realize he was instinctively using the male Zerg as his research sample.
Considering Gela’s clinginess, he fell into thought and unconsciously added a counter-point: "It’s hard to refuse someone who is persistent."
What a load of nonsense.
But the blue-eyed youth didn't know the person in front of him was a "fake" Zerg. Thinking he was learning from a native, he nodded sincerely.
"I see. Thank you for sharing your insights."
The boy was so earnest.
Sarkadi fled the "topic of death" at high speed.
Aside from Selin, he hadn't seen many normal modes of interaction between female and male Zerg. His hidden former-human identity was a major landmine; the more he said, the more likely he was to slip up.
It was an extremely dangerous, awkward conversation that could not be continued.
Fortunately, Arthur didn't pry, merely asking in passing before moving on.
By the time the Core Species returned to his small cabin in the nest, he had completely put the interlude out of his mind.
The black female Zerg dragged the two boxes out from the corner and opened the lids.
They were two boxes filled with Monet Silk, a typical specialty of the Little Rose Star Sector. The soft, hazy gold and white were like the flowing radiance of the sun and moon woven together, making the fabric look exquisite. In the corner of the box was a small case of Secret Crystal Ores, also from the Little Rose Star Sector. These brilliantly colored raw stones had always been popular with human jewelers.
He hadn't expected Simmons to actually trade for the things he wanted—things he hadn't held much hope for—in such a short time.
Even a barren place like Camlann, because it was closer to human-habitable systems, found it much easier to obtain lifestyle trade goods than the Energy Planet.
A long time ago, the Core Species had noticed that the male Zerg quite liked shiny, brightly colored trinkets. Gela treated the gold ore he had won in his first competition like a treasure, carefully hiding it in the nest.
The silk before him was soft and light, flowing like moonlight. If he used it to line the male’s little nest, the boy would surely be overjoyed.
He could hardly imagine how fast that little tail would wag.
Sarkadi touched the gifts and smiled.
***
