Muto Chronicles
Tails of Mischief!
Beyond the boundaries of civilized space lies the region of the Muto Empire. Mutos are a mammalian race that resembles a cross between a human and a Terran rat. Though spread across thousands of worlds, mutos—or rhats, as they are sometimes called—trace their lineage to a single dark world that orbits a ruined sta–
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Enough of that boring nonsense.
The Muto Chronicles are a collection of stories that follow the madcap misadventures of a Muto Rhat named Frohic and friends as they reluctantly wend their way across the galaxy. Think Firefly. But with man-sized rats.
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Beyond the boundaries of civilized space lies the region of the Muto Empire. Mutos are a mammalian race that resembles a cross between a human and a Terran rat. Though spread across thousands of worlds, mutos—or rhats, as they are sometimes called—trace their lineage to a single dark world that orbits a ruined sta- Enough of that! My name is Frohic, and I'm a muto. I've never seen the homeworld, and I couldn't care less about civilization, empires, or space. Especially space. All I want is to survive in a family that sometimes forgets I exist. My mother is always pregnant, my dozen siblings are swarming over every available surface, and my father makes plan after plan to send us all away. Sure, our hovel is crowded, the food is sparse, but at least it's home. Then everything goes tails up.
As battles rage and allegiances shift, the Muto Frohic returns home an unlikely hero. Now rich beyond measure, fat from the spoils of conquest, he takes his place among the emperor's honored champions. His symbol is raised over the Black Wall and his name inscribed into the Book of Remembrance. Yet Frohic’s heart is troubled. His destiny unfulfilled. For somewhere in the dark reaches of— Who is writing this stuff? That isn’t how it is at all. Frohic again. Listen, I got home to find squatters living in my family’s hovel and no clue as to where father, mother, and the rest of the family went. The only help I have is from someone I just met, and I half suspect she’s looking for a sire to start her own family. I don’t trust her, and I certainly don’t like her. Least, not like that. Meanwhile, an old friend shows up with a fantastic offer. Lose years of my life on another scavenging mission! And this time we’re going to a part of the galaxy that no muto has ever seen. Much less returned from. Did I mention there might be ants? Giant, ugly ants. Plus, a crew of lunatics. Always fighting or fussing. If I survive, I might get to see my family again. Do I want that? Do I want any of this?
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Having exposed the dark innards of the galaxy and pilfered its treasure, the warlord Frohic sets his sights on a new target: the Outer Rim. With a gleaming armada of Imperial ships at his disposal, Frohic arrives to find a populace subjugated beneath the iron tales of a legion of frost-breathing lizards—the Shikasta. War ensues, but the shikasta’s uncanny powers exploit a weakness in the armada. As one ship falls after another, Fro is forced to— No. For the third time. No! Frohic here. I’ve found myself in another fix. Jobs got scarce and everything went tails up. Captain Abs took us to the smelly end of the galaxy to find work and to give me a present I never asked for. Next thing you know, there are pirates chasing us, lizards shocking us, and a whole lot of Stelltron corporate hijinks that I’m not real clear on. Also, there’s time spent underwater, crazed metallic demons, wasted time, and a dead friend or two. Despite all that, the crew still thinks I’m lucky. I’m lucky, all right. But my luck is all bad.
My name is Sedrick. I’m a man-size, space-faring rhat. I’m also executive officer for an interstellar cargo ship—the Granum. My captain and I are in a wee bit of trouble. We’ve been summoned by the Emperor’s auditors. Now, That doesn’t sound ominous. But, believe me, it is. These aren’t your typical bean-counters. These guys will extract a nose or a tail if you mess up. And we messed up. It was a simple job. Deliver a hold packed with cheese and spirits to a backwater planet in the Orion spur. Things didn’t go as planned. They never do on a ship full of buffoons and malcontents. Chief among my problems were those two scientists Dontel and Uzel. Their spectacular bungle landed us on Earth, an even more backwater world than the one we were headed for. No starships, no flight—not even a lightbulb! I did my executive level best—threatening, bargaining, and stunning to get the job done. To get the hold filled. The Granum was safe and secure. Nestled within a forest in northeastern France. I made connections with the locals. I had a plan! Then the soldiers arrived. All sorts of soldiers. It was an absolute mess. A scheduling nightmare! How was I to gauge the long-term effects? The galactic repercussions? And now our lives and livelihoods are at stake again. The best I can hope for? This memory machine the auditors have me connected to will cook my brain.