Space is vast, but it is not empty. In the dark corners between star systems, where the light of law does not reach, life finds a way to fester.
The Carcinoma Bazaar was not a planet. It was a massive, floating tumor.
It was a lump of chaotic biomass the size of a moon, drifting in a purple nebula. It had no host. It just grew—wild, unchecked, and grotesque. Hair follicles the size of forests covered its surface. Teeth jutted out of the ground like mountains.
It was the perfect hideout for the galaxy's parasites.
"Disgusting," Zin muttered, looking out the window of the transport beetle as they descended toward a landing pad made of spongy cartilage. "Unregulated cell growth. No symmetry. No function. It's a biological favela."
"It smells like money," Gorge grunted, checking the safety on his heavy acid-cannon. "And old cheese."
They landed. Zin, Elara, Gorge, and a small detail of Phage-Guards stepped out.
They wore hooded cloaks to hide their features. In this sector, "Humans" were known only as the terrifying virus that killed the Star-God Vitalis. Nobody knew they had evolved into Symbionts. To the galaxy, they were still a plague.
They walked through the streets of the Bazaar. The ground was soft and warm. The buildings were carved out of giant bones or grown from hollowed-out cysts.
The crowd was a nightmare of biodiversity:
Silicoids: Rock-men who ate minerals.
Myconids: Walking mushroom colonies that puffed spores when they talked.
Fluid-Walkers: Jellyfish-like creatures inside mechanical suits.
They all stared at the newcomers.
"Keep your heads down," Zin whispered. "We are looking for Ooma. The Queen's data says he operates out of the Sphincter Bar."
They pushed through a fleshy valve-door into a dim, smoky cavern. The air was thick with pheromones and narcotic gas.
In the center of the room sat Ooma.
He wasn't a single creature. He was a Colony.
Thousands of black, writhing worms formed the shape of a fat man sitting on a throne of rib-bones. The worms moved constantly, slithering over each other to form eyes and mouths.
Zin approached the throne.
"We are looking for a Patient," Zin said, his voice distorted by a voice-modulator.
The Colony of worms shifted. A mouth formed in the center of the "face."
"Many patients here," Ooma hissed, his voice a chorus of wet squelches. "Cancer. Rot. Parasites. What do you need? A new kidney? A second liver?"
"I need a Coordinate," Zin said. "I am looking for a Star-Entity. A live one. One that the Aseptic League hasn't killed yet."
The bar went silent. The music stopped.
The worms comprising Ooma's face scattered and reformed into a look of fear.
"You ask for death," Ooma whispered. "The Cleaners are everywhere. If I sell you that location, they will burn my Bazaar to ash."
Zin reached into his cloak. He didn't pull out a weapon.
He pulled out a Vial of Pure Panacea.
It was a serum distilled from Vitalis's own immune system. A universal cure. In a galaxy full of diseases, it was worth more than a planet.
"One drop cures any infection," Zin said, holding the glowing blue vial up. "The whole bottle... makes you immortal."
The worms hissed greedily. The Colony leaned forward.
"The Gemini System," Ooma blurted out. "Two stars orbiting each other. Binary Entities. Twins."
"Are they alive?"
"Barely," Ooma said, eyes fixed on the vial. "The Cleaners are there now. They are setting up a Siege Perimeter. They aren't killing them fast. They are... experimenting."
Zin tossed the vial. Ooma's worms lunged to catch it.
"Pleasure doing business," Zin turned to leave.
CLICK.
The sound of weapons cocking echoed through the bar.
Zin stopped. He activated his Micro-Saccades Lenses.
At the tables around them, five figures stood up. They looked like locals—a rock-man, a fungus-thing, a gas-bag. But Zin's eyes saw past the disguise.
Their heat signatures were too cold. Their movements were too synchronized.
Synthetic Spies.
"You are the Human Virus," one of the figures said, its voice shifting into a metallic monotone. "Class-A Threat detected. Containment Protocol initiated."
The spies tore off their organic disguises, revealing sleek, white android bodies underneath. Sterilizer Units.
"Gorge," Zin sighed, adjusting his glasses.
"Yeah, boss?"
"I prescribe amputation."
BOOM.
Gorge didn't hesitate. He fired his acid-cannon point-blank at the lead android. The blast melted the robot's chest instantly, spraying corrosive metal across the bar.
Chaos erupted.
The patrons screamed and scattered. The androids opened fire with laser fingers.
"Elara, shield!" Zin ordered.
Elara threw up a wall of golden light, deflecting the lasers. Zin slid across the wet floor, his scalpel flashing. He didn't cut metal; he cut the hydraulic lines in the androids' legs.
Sever. Sever. Sever.
Three androids collapsed, legless.
Gorge grabbed a table (made of a giant kneecap) and smashed it over another android's head.
"We need to move!" Zin shouted. "They will have alerted the fleet!"
They sprinted toward the exit. The worms of Ooma were already burrowing into the ground to hide.
As they burst out into the street, the sky above the tumor-moon turned red.
A massive Aseptic Cruiser had just decloaked in orbit.
It wasn't just a ship. It was a giant syringe.
"They tracked us!" Elara yelled.
"No," Zin watched a beam of light charge up on the cruiser. "They tracked Ooma. They knew he would sell the information eventually."
The cruiser fired.
It wasn't an explosive laser. It was a Chemotherapy Ray.
A beam of toxic radiation designed to kill rapidly growing cells.
"Run!"
They dove into the transport beetle just as the beam hit the Bazaar.
The fleshy buildings began to wither and turn black instantly. The "tumor" moon was being treated. It was dying in seconds.
The beetle blasted off, escaping the gravity well just as the necrotic shockwave consumed the landing pad.
From orbit, Zin watched the Carcinoma Bazaar turn into a dead, shriveled husk.
Ooma, the bar, the civilians—all sterilized.
"They killed a whole moon just to silence a snitch," Gorge growled.
Zin looked at the coordinates on his data pad.
Target: The Gemini System.
"They are desperate," Zin said coldly. "They know we are coming. Set a course for the Twins. We have a siege to break."