Prologue
Jondd!
It was the first thing Zed saw as he regained consciousness from the hyperjump. He stared at the swirling, purple planet, tightening his hands on the arms of his chair. Jondd, where the key to his future lay waiting, where there was a slim chance to free himself from the backbreaking drudgery of the glass mines...
Across from him in the elegant ramcruiser, Magram, the lawyer assigned to his case, unbuckled his seat belt and stretched.
The scented air began to circulate again, wafting over the smooth Dunga-skin traveling seats and the convenience tables beside each of them. On Zed's lay a holocopy of his Uncle Brock's last will and testament and the Uniteller codes for his bank accounts, scattered on various star systems. These were two of the things he had inherited from the relative he had never known.
Another was the SunDog.
The lawyer draped the seat straps over the arm rests, allowing his huge belly to sag within the contours of his unisuit. Zed had disliked him on sight — but then, he had never had much use for the double-mouthed, scarlet-hued natives of the Rithan system. They plundered his home planet, controlling the mines as well as the courts, seeing to it that there was never any justice for those who risked their lives to gather playthings for the idle rich. How ironic that, of all the lawyers who worked for the firm of Spinner, Crest, and Tatuatha, a Rithan should be assigned to handle his case...
The fat, red man gave him a disdainful smile with both of his mouths, the one for chewing revealing yellow, crooked teeth; the one below it, for liquids, gummy and pink. Zed gazed at him, his face a mask, revealing nothing of the emotion that churned inside him.
Jondd. They were almost there.
"You look pale, Zed," Magram said. "Most groundhogs — sorry, I mean, land dwellers — usually find their first hyperjump a bit harrowing. Of course, it was a longer one than usual, since our system is a long way from here. I suppose our cells flew apart for a few extra moments, but it was nothing, really. Myself, I find hypertravel...tedious."
And I find you tedious, Zed thought. The Rithan knew full well that he was always pale, spending the daylight hours deep below the earth.
A groundhog. The lawyer had even spoken the hated word to his face. His people had always been mine workers, doomed to a brutal, and usually short, existence. By pure accident of birth, they toiled while others — those of the higher classes — enjoyed the results of the killing work that took men like Zed's father, and his father, and his, at a frighteningly early age.
But there had been an uncle — a brother his father had never mentioned. And in his lifetime, he had enjoyed the rights and privileges of those born above the surfaces of the planets. Among them, he had chosen his own name.
Which I shall do as well, Zed decided. "Zed" was assigned to me by the Union — a miner name. I'll call myself what I please to declare my freedom.
More importantly, though, his uncle had owned a ship.
"SunDog," Zed whispered.
"Did you say something?" Magram asked, leaning forward.
Zed regarded him. Let the Rithan preen and taunt. Within hours, he would be free of him, free for the first time in his life to shape his own destiny...
As if reading his mind, Magram pressed his fingertips together and settled his chin on them. "You realize, of course, that I know you're going to fail in your mission. You haven't got a chance in a million of succeeding."
Zed raised his chin. "Then why are you handing over my uncle's ship to me?"
Magram laughed. "Because we have nothing to lose. For one thing, we can sell SunDog — after you've failed. Or, if you're blown up in battle or lose it to pirates, we can collect the insurance. And there's always our famous legal system to fall back on."
He leaned back in his chair. "It's a pity the courts require heirs to inherit everything, good and bad. Along with your uncle's worldly goods, you've inherited his debts and obligations. And Brock Dor-Ceed was very obligated to us."
He eyed Zed. "The Society of the New Faith has already paid us tremendous sums to deliver all the materials necessary to build their new colony, and to transport their cryogenically frozen disciples there as well. 'Cryogens,' we call them. And we, in turn, accepted your uncle's bid on the project — the lowest, at half a million credits."
"You're not telling me anything I don't already know," Zed gritted.
But the Rithan would not be silenced. "Your uncle, though you've never heard of him, was quite famous — or infamous, shall we say — as a crafty trader. He had a gift for buying low and selling high. He'd purchase rare earths and sell them for engine parts, and still turn a profit to buy more fuel or ale. He could walk into a bar, find out where cadcams or droids were being sold, and fly there with pirates swooping down on all sides."
He tapped his upper lips. "Strange, that such a good pilot would crash. His death is still a mystery to us."
As his life was a mystery to his nephew. One day, I'll find out all I can about him, Zed vowed. But for now, he had to concentrate on fulfilling his uncle's contract.
Otherwise, it was back to the mines for him, forever. He would have lost everything he'd gained — and more, since the law firm would attach his wages until the money they'd given his uncle was repaid. He would be nothing more than a bondsman.
It would take a long time to repay them on what a mineworker made — his lifetime, at least. And, under the law, if he ever had children, he would pass on his legacy of bitterness to them — as his uncle had passed on one of hope to him.
Magram pressed a button on the side of his convenience table. A drink pouch was dispensed. He nicked open the top and began to sip a fragrant, amber-colored liquid.
"Now, the construction of the colony is supposed to proceed in phases," he said. "They'll tell you what they want, and when. They'll order up more 'cryogens' when they need to thaw out more workers. The 'cryogens,'" he added, smiling slyly, "are stored in warehouses throughout all the systems SunDog can reach. You won't have to pay for them, as you do all the other materials, but you do have to find them."
"And the colony's on Jondd?" Zed asked tersely, fuming at the superior attitude of this fat, useless Rithan.
"Yes. Somewhere. I seem to forget the location. But a man of your abilities should have no trouble finding it."
The message speaker glowed on. "Prepare for landing," a metallic voice announced, and Magram pressed a reply strip to show the message had been received.
The ramcruiser descended quickly, easily, like a butterfly.
Magram sighed. "Thank goodness I'm almost finished with this."
Zed ignored him, glancing out the window, but all he saw were the wide expanses of metal and gossamer wire of the spaceport. A few casual onlookers noted the plush craft he rode in, then went on with their work.
"It's in another section," the lawyer drawled, as if indulging a child. "Come along, now."
They walked through the spaceport, a robocap trailing behind with Zed's meager belongings. The cavernous hangars echoed with voices and the whine of a tablar drill, and the dull, low hum of a decelerating spacecraft that was landing nearby.
Then they turned a corner, and Zed stopped cold.
The SunDog stood before them.
She wasn't as big as he had expected, not the gleaming, modern ship he'd imagined would jettison him into a new life. Her scarred sides told tales of pirate battles and the viewer ports in the turrets bore signs of laser fire. There was a spidery lacework of patches on her starboard side and oxide around some of the fittings.
But she stood proudly in the violights. Her lines were straight and true. She was a working ship, with lots of room for cargo and fuel. The hope she represented gleamed in his heart, and he tightened his hand around his uncle's will and Uniteller codes.
Who were you, that you did this for me? he wondered. Someday, I'll find out. But for now...
Magram sneered. "You can't even go as far as our ramcruiser in this heap. You may as well face it, miner. Accepting your inheritance can only mean failure. You wouldn't want your future family to suffer on your account, would you? Why don't you just hand SunDog over to us? I'll even give you a lift back home."
"No," Zed said, and for the first time he let his contempt for the Rithan show. "No. This is my ship now. I accept the terms of my uncle's will. I claim SunDog for myself."
The Rithan chortled. "Then hop aboard. You're on your own now. Your fate lies in your hands."
Introduction to SunDog
SunDog: Frozen Legacy ™ is a science fiction adventure game set in the Jebal Imperial Protectorate, a loosely-knit federation of planets. All action takes place within the Drahew Region, a cluster of twelve systems containing 18 inhabited planets. You, the player, may travel within cities, from city to city, from planet to planet, and from system to system. Action takes place on several different scales, from sitting in the pilotage of your star freighter to driving across continents.
As the game opens, you have just inherited a one-man star freighter — the SunDog — from an uncle who died under mysterious circumstances. You also inherited the contract he signed to aid in the building of a colony for a religious group. You have three tasks to perform. First, you have to find where the colony (named "Banville") is located. All you know is that it is somewhere on the planet Jondd. Second, you need to find, buy, and deliver all the goods needed to complete construction of the colony (your uncle was given all the money necessary). Third, you need to locate the cryogenically-frozen colonists ("cryogens"), who are located in warehouses scattered all over the Drahew Region, and transport them to the colony as they are required.
Several obstacles await you in your efforts. First, you know almost nothing about the trading business, and so you must learn what is a good deal and what isn't. Pirates will attack you with hopes of forcing you to jettison your cargo, and muggers in the city will seek to take away your cash. You'll have to buy fuel and spare parts for your ship and have repair work done when your hull is damaged. And, of course, you have to eat and sleep.
As the game starts, you have just entered the SunDog via the airlock. You have never been on a freighter before, much less flown one. They're supposed to be foolproof — and you're prepared to put that to the test. Now, if you can just figure out where to buy fuel and cargo...
Text from the SunDog: Frozen Legacy manual, © 1985 FTL Games. Reproduced for reference. The reading is new: narrator, Zed, Magram and the ship's announcer were voiced with ElevenLabs. Click any paragraph to listen from there. The pictures are new too, painted with ChatGPT.