...A sound like gurgling mixed with a thousand pained cries drifted from the next room, muffled yet chilling enough to freeze me in place. “Good fuck, there must be an entire army’s worth of undead in there!”

Ollie looked at me, eyes fierce as he unsheathed his sword. “Lass, you’ll wish it was an army when you see this monstrosity,” he said grimly. “The undead? They’re just actors in this cosmic horror show, mindless, chaotic, like the crowds I saw in Glasgow. But this…” He paused, his tone darkening. “This is their queen, suspended in microgravity for centuries, a fusion of thousands, twisted into one giant abomination. Prepare yourself.”

He opened the hatch and led us into the control room. Through a large bay window, we could see the dark, cavernous chamber beyond. Ollie flipped on the lights, illuminating the horror within, a writhing, gelatinous mass made up of countless fused bodies, faces overlapping and mouths all twisted in agony. The creature screamed in a thousand voices as the light hit it, uttering words in an ancient Velstrazden tongue. My optics translator struggled to make sense of it, buffering and asking me to stand by.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep calm. “So… what’s the issue here? That thing’s clearly contained.”

Ollie shook his head. “This ‘thing’ is a creature trapped in endless pain. I’ve been here long enough to know it’s aware, and it’s suffering.” His voice softened. “I’d just turned on the incinerators to put it out of its misery when I heard the racket you lot were making.”

I was stunned. “But… how do you know it’s in pain? Or that it even understands a concept like that?”

Before he could answer, my translator finally caught up. “I see you… whoever you are… please end our suffering. For millennia, we have been prisoners of our own minds. Grant us kindness and let us rest.”

A chill ran down my spine. I glanced at Leon, who looked indifferent, while Ollie was visibly moved, clearly offering the creature a mercy no one had ever given him.

“Alright,” I muttered, looking away. “If you think it’s necessary, do it.”

Ollie nodded and flipped the lever to activate the incinerators. Flames engulfed the creature, and it shrieked, a deafening scream of pure agony that echoed through the station. Just as I wished it could have been a quicker death, the flames suddenly sputtered out, plunging the chamber into darkness. Red emergency lights flickered on as the station’s PA crackled, now translated by my database.

“Main Crystal Power Depleted. Now on Auxiliary Power. Have a nice day.”

“Shit,” I muttered. “The crystal must’ve powered this whole place.”

Ollie cursed under his breath, trying to re-engage the incinerator, but the lever snapped uselessly in his hands. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a wave of undead poured into the room. Without missing a beat, Ollie tore into them, his sword cutting through decayed flesh with brutal precision. “Fuck off!” he shouted, slashing and hacking, turning them into a reddish-orange paste.

Then, an idea hit me. I tapped my comm link. “Webster, do you detect another ship docked on the station? It’s likely the other bounty hunter’s.”

“Correct, Tracy. There’s a vessel docked on the aft side, hidden from visual sensors,” Webster responded immediately.

I grumbled. Would’ve been nice to know sooner, Webster.

“Leon,” I said, turning to him. “If you’re still linked to the bounty hunter’s systems, can you activate their self-destruct? Maybe we can take out the whole station, and that abomination, with it.”

Leon nodded, pulling up the ship’s access window on his optic interface. “Good thinking. Self-destruct primed and ready.”

Ollie smirked. “Alright, then. Let’s get the fook out of here before this place goes up.” Without a second thought, he led us toward the docking bay. As we made our way back, he cut through more zombies, turning them into undead pulp.

As we moved down the dim corridors, Ollie grabbed an old band gear cart, spray-painted with the name Jethro Crimson in white, a relic from the life he’d been torn from years ago. He rolled it through the hall, a strange memento of his past. The walls were plastered with wartime propaganda, exaggerated depictions of daemonkind as snarling, bloodthirsty beasts, incapable of empathy.

“Guess every galaxy’s got its demon legends,” Ollie muttered, scanning the remnants of Velstrazda’s long history.

Leon nodded. “Daemonallia; pocket dimension. Their war left them vilified across the galaxy. Domiculus Academy even slipped it into human history as warnings for the day they reached the stars. Of course,” he added as Gonzo came into view, “these posters are ancient, and now considered quite racist.”

Once inside gonzo, I practically tore off my space suit, reaching for a cigarette in my pocket. Lighting it up, I took a deep inhale, finally able to breathe. “Webster, undock us and get us far from that station.”

Webster complied, As Gonzo pulled back to a safe distance, Leon activated the bounty hunter ship’s self-destruct. The station flickered for a moment, its lights surging one last time, then, BOOM.

A blinding flash erupted from the heart of the station, sending shockwaves rippling across the nebula like ripples in water. One by one, emergency lights blinked and sparked, turning the station into a twisted, radiant Christmas tree against the backdrop of red and purple clouds. Sections of the station’s outer shell began to peel away, glowing orange and yellow as they melted, blasted outward from the force of the explosion. Every corridor and window seemed to spit fire, trails of burning metal splintering off in all directions.

The central hub, now a chaotic whirl of debris and flame, started its slow descent. Gravity took hold, and piece by piece, the shattered station began to fall toward Velstrazda V below. As it plummeted, pieces of it tumbled, spinning and scattering like fiery comets breaking through an atmosphere. The dense, colorful clouds seemed to reach up for it, swallowing shards of metal and glowing circuitry as they sank deeper and deeper, vanishing into the planet’s red-purple fog. until, finally, only trails of smoke and flickers of light remained in the dense, eerie silence.

In the quiet that followed, the red and purple nebula swirled over the now-empty space where the station once hung, wrapping around its remains like a cosmic shroud. It was a strange, beautiful kind of ending, a burial in the stars.

Just then, Webster piped up. “Tracy, we’re being hailed by an Official iNNoTec Vessel approaching quickly.” A shiny, new iNNoTec Cosmo-ripper came into view on the visual feed, its call sign marked DAA-1601. I opened the comms screen to find a raven haired woman in an iNNoTec flight suit, her expression nothing short of disapproving.

“This is Elaine Cabbot, Agent of the Department of Anomalous Affairs. We’ve been monitoring this system for spatial anomalies and detected the destruction of Velstrazda Station by a docked starship. Would any of you know what happened here?” she asked, eyes fixed on me.

Great. One of iNNoTec’s own weird science agents, scientists with badges.

I feigned innocence, putting on my best “harmless reporter” expression. “Some Imperium bounty hunters went nuts thinking I had Leon Stardust on board. I hid in the nebula, and they went into the station looking for me. I don’t know what they saw, but the whole place just went down like a crashing comet. I’m just a journalist, chasing a story.” I sent over my press credentials for good measure.

She glanced over my credentials and then sighed, apparently buying my story. “Those bounty hunters are probably waiting for me to leave the system to try and pursue me again. Think I could get an escort out of here with that fancy ship of yours?” I asked sweetly.

She narrowed her eyes, clearly suspicious. After a pause, she nodded. “I’ll escort you, but my boss wants a word with you, and with that temporal anomaly sitting in your lounge,” she added, glancing at Ollie. It was obvious she knew exactly who, and what, he was.

Damn. iNNoTec agents didn’t miss a thing. They were pros.

I nodded, suppressing my unease at meeting the head honcho of the Nerd Patrol. It was my only shot at getting out of here unscathed. “Alright, I’m right behind you,” I replied, instructing Webster to follow her out of the system.

As we left the nebula, a dozen or so bounty hunter ships hung back, watching us intently. The DAA agent filled the comm channels with warnings, making it clear we were under investigation and that any provocation would be met with force. Reluctantly, the bounty hunters scattered, and I finally slumped into my seat in the lounge, exhaling a long, smoke-filled sigh of relief. Just as I was finally sinking back, ready to enjoy a well-earned moment of peace, the unmistakable kaboom of the FM Pod torpedo tubes filled the cabin. I shot up, already sensing the worst, as Leon’s voice crackled through the comms.

“This was fun, Tracy! We’ll have to do this again sometime. Ciao ciao for now, compa!”

I bolted upright, rage bubbling up. “You sleazy bastard! My FM Pod! I need that!” But it was too late; the slippery bastard had already launched himself out of Gonzo’s bay and was speeding off in the opposite direction, vanishing into the nebula with a smug flourish.

I could only watch, fuming, as the tiny blip of my own FM Pod faded into the swirling reds and purples of the nebula. That was Leon Stardust for you, never missing an exit, even if it meant stealing your ride along the way.