When the going gets tough, the tough get going.
(John Belushi, Animal House, 1978)
Bageechaa, coordinates 99.001/-55.447/1803.240
June 24th, 666 GE
Running toward the spaceport, Twiglet tried not to think about her house, the hyperneural probe, or everything she’d left behind. Right now, escaping the werewolves was all that mattered. Grief and regrets could wait.
Still, clearing her mind wasn’t easy. For a mahjit of Shing-Na, a house meant far more than a place to live or store belongings. Upon reaching adulthood, every mahjitan youth was gifted a seedling home, and wherever they chose to plant it became their dwelling for life.
Twiglet had chosen Bageechaa — a remote moon orbiting the sixth planet of Gienah — precisely because it was far from the galactic core and sparsely inhabited. Returning to Shing-Na wasn’t an option; tradition forbade mahjits from returning empty-handed. Besides, her marriage to Whagi Yax was still technically pending.
She unrolled her tongue and looked around. The forest had grown denser. No time for distractions now. With deadly shapeshifters on her trail and the spaceport still ahead, getting lost could mean death. She had to stay focused.
Clambering over a fallen tree was a struggle with her short legs, and she had to detour around a holoturid lair. The underbrush teemed with unseen threats. Still, she pushed on, pausing only to listen or glance behind her. When she spotted a clearing, her pulse quickened — she was close to the village.
At last. A few more steps and…
An enormous dark shape dropped from the canopy, blocking her path.
She tried to scream, but her tongue got tangled.
“Hello, Thwigleth!” came Uful’lan’s voice, his mouth stretched in a toothy grin.
Twiglet collapsed face-first into the grass.
“Uful’lan, you idiot! You scared me to death!” She shouted once she caught her breath. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Jussth heading tho thhe thavern when I ssensed your smell,” he replied innocently. “Thhoughth maybe you’d wanth tho drink ssomethhing. Of coursse, you sshould pay, ‘causse righth now I’m kind of… whath do you thhink?”
“I don’t have time for this,” she snapped. “I’m in a hurry, so move out.”
“Oh… and where are you going? May I come withh you?”
“No, you may not. In fact, you really shouldn’t. I’m bad company these days.”
“Whath?! Why?”
“I can’t explain it all right now. But remember those humans I told you about? They burned down my house.”
“They did… what?”
“ And that’s not all. They’re after me. Once they catch me, I’m finished. I have to get off this moon.”
“Then I’m coming withh you!” Uful’lan declared without hesitation.
“No! I told you — go home!”
She shoved past him and kept walking toward the village.
“Thwigleth! Leth me come withh you! I’m noth afraid of humanss! If they thry tho hurth you…”
Twiglet unrolled her tongue. Oh, great. A clumsy, overweight k’rell against supernatural assassins. Still… no one had ever shown her that kind of loyalty before.
She stopped and turned around to catch her breath.
“Please, Uful’lan. This isn’t your fight. Let me handle it.”
For a moment, she thought he’d finally listen. He just stood there, dejected, watching her go. Then she heard him stomping after her, huffing like a steam engine.
“Waith! Whath do you mean, it’ss your problem? Thosse bassthardss murdered my people by thhe million… You thold me thhath yoursself! Sso ith’ss my problem too!”
Twiglet didn’t respond. The spaceport’s buildings were now visible, covered in moss and vegetation like everything else on Bageechaa.
She prayed she could catch the morning shuttle. The next wouldn’t leave until late afternoon, which might be too late. At the entry gate, a plastiglass barrier shimmered. A voice echoed overhead:
“GATE A1… PASSENGERS BOUND FOR GIENAH SEVEN ORBITAL STATION, PLEASE PROCEED TO GATE A1…“
Beyond the gate, an aging Orion-class shuttle stood on its pad. A pair of tracked droids loaded luggage into its hold. Twiglet scanned the crowd anxiously. There were no humans.
She rushed to a ticket machine, navigated the destination menu, and quickly tapped a sequence of icons. A compartment slid open.
She placed Peg Powler’s emerald inside.
“Whath are you doing?” Uful’lan asked, watching as the gem disappeared.
“Can’t you see?” Twiglet replied, pulling two credit chips from the slot. “Here, take them. That’s our money — and our tickets. Don’t lose them.”
“Our… ssso I’m coming withh you!”
“Apparently so. Let’s hope I don’t regret it.”
“ You won’th, Thwigleth. I promise!”
“LAST CALL FOR GIENAH SEVEN ORBITAL STATION…“
“Come on. If we miss it, we’re stranded.”
Dabih Major, coordinates 46.888/+05.453/120.750
June 23rd, 666 GE
Aboard the Aranui, Kyle had been working for a couple of hours to replace the hyperstring generator. After coming home, he’d fed a ravenous Wolfram and thrown together a quick dinner for himself. Then he got straight to work.
Outside, the storm was intensifying. According to the latest weather report, the worst was still coming.
“WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME WHERE YOU FOUND THE MONEY?”
“There’s no time for small talk. We need to take off as soon as possible.”
“WHY THE RUSH? ARE WE BEING FOLLOWED?”
“Huh? What makes you say that?”
“WELL, IT WOULDN’T BE THE FIRST TIME.”
Kyle welded the last connection and sealed the shielding panel.
“There. Let’s hope it holds. Run a systems check and start the pre-injection circuit.”
“YES, SIR! the ship replied, dripping sarcasm.
On his way to the port gangway, Kyle paused. He could hear the downpour drumming above and the wind howling around the hull, even through one and a half feet of steel and insulation.
Reaching the cockpit, he kicked Wolfram off the pilot’s seat and radioed the Tower to request clearance. All the switches and indicators on the central console lit up green.
“EVERYTHING’S IN ORDER, CAPTAIN. READY WHENEVER YOU ARE.”
Tower’s reply came almost immediately. As expected, the waiting list was long — Aranui’s turn wouldn’t come until 05:37 a.m. And with the weather deteriorating fast, there was a real chance the spaceport might close before then.
Kyle swore in every language he knew — including a few he only knew curse words in — and slammed his fist on the control board.
“Uncouple the docking systems.”
“WHAT? WE’RE NOT CLEARED FOR DEPARTURE…”
“Forget about clearance! Wolfram! Where the hell are you?”
“Meowrrr.”
The black cat sat nearby, calmly grooming one rear paw.
Kyle scooped him up.
“Come on, fuzzball. Time to get in your box.”
He pulled a pressurized pet carrier from a cupboard and, after some wrestling, finally secured the unwilling feline inside.
“Engage the antigrav field and — wait… what’s that red light?”
“STRANGE… SOMEONE JUST PUNCHED IN THE DOCK ACCESS CODE. THE GATE’S OPENING!”
“No… damn it. Nagatomo! He found us!”
“NAGATOMO? HA! I KNEW WE WERE BEING FOLLOWED!”
Kyle acted, tapping icons and flipping switches on the central console.
“Activate external lights. Power up the aft laser batteries. This time, I’m frying the bastard.”
But when the holo-display flickered to life, the scene was not what he expected.
No Nagatomo. No henchmen.
Just a thin, rain-soaked figure struggling to be seen in the glow of the floodlights.
Gienah VI Orbital Station,
coordinates 99.001/-55.447/1803.24
June 24th, 666 GE
“You didn’t tell me where we’re going, Thwigleth…”
“Shhh! Do you want the entire station to hear you?”
Twiglet glanced around, making sure no one was following them.
They still had time before the Ari Husqvarna’s departure, but lingering in the waiting room would make them easy targets. So they’d ducked into a small trinket shop, pretending to browse local crafts.
“We’re going to New Xanadu… ” she whispered. “And stop shouting like that. Do you want them to find us?”
“Who? The werewolvess?”
“Oh no — damn you, don’t say that name out loud! Never! Don’t even think it! You have no idea what they’re capable of.”
Uful’lan recoiled, looking crushed.
“Ssorry, Thwigleth. I never do ith righth…”
“It’s okay. Maybe I’m overreacting. They’re probably still on Bageechaa.”
“Do you think New Xanadu’s a good place to hide?”
“We’re not going there to hide. It wouldn’t help — and eventually, they’d find us. The only way to survive is to understand what’s happening. We have to find out who’s behind this, and why they want me dead.”
She lowered her voice further.
“It’s been years since I resigned from the Holroyd Society.”
“Why wass thath?”
Twiglet unrolled her tongue and sighed.
“Long story. After the war, there were some… let’s say, disagreements between me and the Council. But we never lost contact, thanks to my friend Durrell Wang. We still exchange Christmas wishes, would you believe it?”
“Which ssecthor iss ith in?” Uful’lan asked.
“Huh?” Twiglet blinked, lost in thought.
“The Ssociethy. Iss ith near the Lionhearth Tower?”
“No, not anymore. During the war, they relocated their headquarters to the Halo. That’s actually our final destination. But first, we have to stop in New Xanadu.”
Uful’lan frowned.
“Oh. Sso we won’th be sstaying long…” He sounded disappointed.
“What’s the plan in New Xanadu, then?”
“We need to find the exact location of the headquarters.”
“Eh? Waith a minuthe. Didn’th you jussth ssay…”
“It’s in the Halo, yes. But I’m missing two coordinates.”
“You lossth them?”
“Of course not!” She gave him a sharp look. “It’s for security. Every Holroyd agent is entrusted with only one coordinate. You need all three to pinpoint a planet. I never thought I’d need mine, but now, I must retrieve the other two from a couple of colleagues.”
“Why noth jussth conthacth them through thhe Nethh?”
Twiglet gave him a look of sincere pity.
“You’ve lived in the forest too long, Uful’lan. You really think it’s smart to trust the Net with anything secret?”
“Ith jussth… sso awfully complicated!”
“Ha! At the Holroyd Society, they adore that kind of thing.”
She checked the departure board.
“Time to go.”
As they moved toward the shop’s exit, Twiglet’s eyes caught something — or rather, someone.
Two humans. Watching them.
Dabih Major, coordinates 46.888/+05.453/120.750
June 23rd, 666 GE
“No… that can’t be!” Kyle blinked at the monitor. “I don’t believe it.”
“IT’S A BIOMECHANICAL LIFEFORM: FEMALE, FIVE FOOT SIX, APPROXIMATELY ONE HUNDRED POUNDS…”
“It’s okay. I know her.”
“OH, REALLY? THIS IS OUR PURSUER? SHE DOESN’T LOOK THAT DANGEROUS.”
“I just wonder how she managed to find us. Lower the ramp.”
“HEY, YOU DIDN’T MENTION A NEW GIRLFRIEND!”
Kyle activated the main airlock controls. Instantly, rain poured in, drenching him. Shirl stood at the bottom of the ramp, soaked to the skin, shivering, and miserable.
“Please, let me in!” she cried. “I’m freezing!”
“Then get in already! Want the Aranui to turn into an aquarium?”
Shirl sprinted up the ramp. The airlock slammed shut behind her.
“What the hell are you doing here? Taash changed his mind?”
“Yeah, that one!” Shirl pulled a face. “He calls me ‘honey,’ ‘dear’… Then, right after you left, he started giggling like an idiot and tried to open up my brain!”
“What?”
“Someone came in just in time, so I managed to escape. While I was leaving, I heard him scream… it was awful, like — like he was being torn apart.”
Kyle wasn’t sure whether to believe her. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to throw her out again. She had saved his life, after all.
“All right,” he muttered. “You can stay. But only until New Xanadu.”
Shirl’s eyes lit up, but before she could speak, the Aranui cut in:
“CAPTAIN, WOULD YOU MIND TELLING ME WHAT’S GOING ON? ARE WE TAKING OFF OR JUST COLLECTING STRAYS?”
“Strap in!” Kyle shouted, already moving to the cockpit.
Fortunately, the ship had completed its preflight checklist. He dropped into the pilot’s seat and activated the antigrav lifters.
“DOCKING SYSTEMS UNLOCKED. ANTIGRAV LIFTERS ACTIVE.”
The Aranui gave a low shudder, then rose abruptly. The heavy walls of the docking bay fell away. Kyle transitioned from lifters to main drive, and the ship surged into the sky.
Outside, the storm still raged. He retracted the landing gear.
“CAPTAIN, TOWER IS ASKING IF WE’VE GONE INSANE. THEY DEMAND IMMEDIATE ABORT OF TAKEOFF.”
“Tell them to sue me,” Kyle grinned, slamming the throttle forward.
The Aranui leapt through the deluge, punching through curtains of rain. Visibility was minimal, and the storm played havoc with the infrared sensors.
Kyle angled the ship steeply, hoping to outrun the weather. The inertial acceleration pressed him into the seat. Even with dampers, he could barely breathe. The hull creaked ominously, groaning under the strain.
Then — finally — they broke through the clouds.
Above them: stars. A million bright pinpricks in the clear sky. For a brief moment, all was still.
Kyle eased back on the stabilizers.
Suddenly, a massive shape filled the portholes — a liner, passing dangerously close. Kyle yanked the helm hard and boosted their speed, narrowly avoiding collision.
The cruiser passed so close it felt like he could’ve touched it.
Once clear, he adjusted trim and cut thrust, preparing for hyperspace.
“Captain?” came a small voice.
“What?” Kyle didn’t look away from the console.
“Do you… always pilot like that?”
“Like what?”
“Nothing. Just… I think I was sick.”
Kyle sighed.
“String generator online.”
The Aranui obeyed.
A swirling vortex began to form in front of the ship — a ripple in space-time, gathering depth and crackling with unstable energy. Sparks flashed as exotic matter annihilated.
“CONTAINMENT FIELD ON. READY FOR JUMP.”
Kyle grabbed the lever.
The stars outside warped into streaks — then vanished.
The Aranui plunged into the breach.
Gienah VI Orbital Station,
coordinates 99.001/-55.447/1803.24
June 24th, 666 GE
They weren’t the first humans Twiglet had encountered.
The orbital station teemed with them — tired travelers, busy staff, loud and wide-eyed tourists. But those two didn’t fit into any of the usual categories. At first glance, they looked completely ordinary. But their strange behavior immediately raised Twiglet’s suspicions.
They carried no luggage.
They didn’t speak to each other.
They showed no interest in any of the goods on display.
Near the shop’s exit, one of them locked eyes with her. Twiglet froze. Those weren’t normal human eyes — their irises were vertical slits, faintly glowing. When the man noticed her staring, he grinned.
His teeth were too long. Too sharp.
Twiglet instinctively grabbed Uful’lan’s arm and whispered,
“Uful’lan, if anything happens, go to gate B43.”
She looked around quickly.
“Give me my ticket—now.”
“Buth, Thwigleth! Whath’s goin’ on? Where are you—?”
“I’ll see you on board!”
Ignoring his protests, she darted toward a display cabinet filled with silver and gemstone jewelry. Without hesitation, she shoved her hands through the protective force field.
A shrieking alarm blared across the store, echoing through the station like a siren in a cave.
Panic erupted. Customers scattered, crowding the exit in a wave of confusion.
That was the cue — the two strange men moved in.
Twiglet had feared this. She grabbed the largest silver pieces within reach and hurled them as they pushed through the commotion. She wasn’t aiming precisely — she just needed a distraction.
To her surprise, it worked better than expected. The first werewolf flinched and stumbled backward. In doing so, he collided with his partner. The two crashed into a nearby display, toppling a shelf with plush toys and knick-knacks. They tumbled down in a heap, buried under a mess of souvenirs.
Twiglet bolted for the exit.
She could have screamed for help, shouted “werewolves,” begged security — but she knew no one would believe her. Worse, she might be arrested for theft. And she had no time for that.
Security droids were already converging.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the werewolves beginning to stir.
“Thwigleth! Thhiss way!”
Uful’lan was waving a heavy alabaster statue.
He hurled it straight at the shop’s front window with surprising strength. The crash was thunderous, though the hole it made was just wide enough for the mahjit to squeeze through. Uful’lan widened it with a few solid kicks, then scooped her up like a laundry sack and dashed toward gate B43.
Shouts, alarms, and angry voices echoed behind them.
But they didn’t look back.
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