“AAAAAUUUUBERGINE CRUISER?” Jerro’s voice finally caught up as they spilled out of the chromatic waterfall that accompanied the chronoarch transit, the sound tugging behind them like a streamer dragging in their wake. A whooshing, percussive rush followed as the world came into focus and the colors found their shapes.

  The moment sound and space reconnected, Greg was already out of his chair, making his exit from the cockpit. “That’s a terrible name,” he said, moving toward the edge of the open-air deck to survey their new surroundings. “You're the only rodent alive that calls it that.”

  Jerro hopped up and followed him out onto the ship's rough charcoal surface. The deck gripped under his webbed paws. “My grandmother called eggplant that,” he shot back. “And look at her. She’s purple. She’s huge. It fits.”

  Greg took in the scene as the humid air lapped around him. His fur rippled like grass in the wind. They were flying, a few hundred tails above an ocean of lush foliage, so thick that it took several moments for him to process what he was even looking at. He turned back over his shoulder at Jerro as he approached the smooth railing. A smile washed over Greg’s face as his focus slid past Jerro and into the cockpit, to Mari at the controls. She piloted with calm confidence. With little effort, she manipulated an array of holographic controls, the motions practiced and certain, nothing tentative in them. A circlet of pulsating blue light crowned her head. Branches propagated outward, linking with elements in the cockpit, then dissipated.

  They flew along the contours of a broad basin lined by short hills, a river threading through it in a wide, twisting channel visible from their elevated position. It emptied into an immense body of water. Over the horizon, a stack of flickering clouds formed a dark thunderhead. The low rumbling of thunder built through their bodies, causing Greg and Jerro’s fur to stand on end as a sharp, clean essence graced their nostrils.

  After a moment, Jerro broke through the silence. “Where do you think we are?”

  Greg turned towards Jerro. “No idea, but it isn’t home, and it definitely isn’t Station.” He repositioned—his tone shifting. “And honestly, I’m relieved.”

  “Relieved?” Jerro echoed.

  “Yeah.” Greg kept his eyes on the valley. “For the first time I can remember, I feel free. Free from ?expectations, the rules. The constant criticism.”

  “Aren’t you a little concerned? We don’t know where we are. We don’t even know where we just were, really.”

  “Honestly, Jerro, I’d rather be anywhere with you and Mari than go back to that. I guess…” His voice thinned. “I feel more at home here with you two than I ever did there.”

  In the distance, there was a break in the canopy, and Greg spotted movement.

  Greg flung his paw out beyond the railing. “Look over there!” he pointed out to Jerro, who had been hanging onto Greg’s last words.

  They set eyes on half a dozen hulking gray-green quadrupedal creatures covered in organic armor plating. Their whiplike tails terminated with a large hammer of a tip. The creatures lumbered about, snapping trees to the forest floor like twigs.

  “What in the burrow are those?” Jerro replied.

  The ship lurched. A high-frequency tone cut through the whirring wind. All other noise fell off into a dull echo as a wave of force swept over them. Jerro and Greg grasped the railing while the floor beneath them turned to a wall.

  “Hang on, boys, we’ve got a bit of a situation on our paws!” Mari yelled, as the aftershock of the explosion faded out her voice.

  The source became apparent as a group of three creatures tore close past the ship, all muscle and forward drive, their bodies heavy and aerodynamic at the same time. Thick, glossy plumage clung to them in layered plates that shifted from a blackened gloss to bruised greens and purples as they banked. Their throats extended in long, sinewy columns, more like flexible stalks than necks, and along each one ran a ridge of stiff quills that lifted into a ragged crest when they turned. Wide-set eyes flashed like wet glass, fixed on the ship with a predator’s focus.

  They let out a series of trilling screeches that might have sounded almost musical if the notes hadn’t fractured into something sharp and hostile. On their backs, blasters protruded from mechanical exoskeletons that cinched tight to their frames. As the creatures passed the ship, the weapon pivoted around with precise, cold control and released another volley. A direct strike to the broadside.

  Lunda’s calm voice reverberated in their minds, just as it had back on Station.

  Initiating reflexive shielding and recommending evasive maneuvers.

  “Yeah, no kidding!” Mari said sarcastically, then asked aloud, “Does this thing have any defensive weapons or what?”

  Of course, there are manned turrets in the fore and another in the aft of the ship.

  A secondary explosion rocked the ship, sending the boys sliding down the railing. This had come from inside the hull.

  “Jerro, see if you can run some damage control on that hit we took. Greg, you heard Lunda. Pick a turret and let’s make these feathered jerks regret it!” Mari commanded confidently as the nose of the ship lifted to gain altitude.

  Jerro's steps felt heavy and sluggish from the added force. With strained effort, he made his way into the ship's interior. Greg, on the other hand, found his way to the forward-positioned turret with ease. He slid into the cushioned seat, where he had a near-full forward view.

  Alright, how do I turn this thing on? Greg thought.

  Lunda’s deadpan reply landed in his mind like it had been there the whole time. Use your mind clearly.

  Mari cut in before Lunda could add anything else. Don’t be snarky to my friend. She didn’t sound out of breath. She sounded close.

  Jerro’s thought followed a beat later, strained with effort. I can hear you both. Also… there’s a serious fire down here.

  Fire suppression engaged, Lunda replied. Portable unit left. Plasma torch and nano patch below.

  Thick mist deployed from a pod that flipped down within a hidden wall panel. Jerro popped open an adjacent cubby and yanked out a canister. Foam leapt from the spout, swallowing the flames. Instantly, the residual smoke got sucked through the breach in the siding.

  Thanks, Lunda. I think I’ve got it from here, Jerro sent, and felt his own tension loosen a notch.

  Mari’s thought brushed in again, quick and incredulous. Oh cool, so we’re all… telepathically linked?

  She dove the ship to evade another volley.

  Lunda answered with the same steady certainty as gravity. Yes. On Station, you were all attuned to the same psionosol frequency. This allows telepathic communication. My intelligence has been transferred to this ship. I will accompany you on your mission. This is statistically favorable.

  Greg’s mouth twitched. “Fantastic.” Without moving his body, he whipped the turret around. The formation was locked in an adaptive heads-up display. Greg’s focus guided the target acquisition system through the avian aggressors. A rapid series of callouts identified the central target as priority. He channeled his mind blast, which wrapped around the pod and flowed into the turret's focal point. The force split into a barrage of powerful missiles that ripped through the atmosphere, leaving a wake of distorted trace.

  Lunda, why are we doing all the work here? Greg sent, more annoyed than afraid. Isn’t there something you can do since you’re our guide?

  Lunda’s answer arrived flat and immediate. My core programming limits my ability to cause direct harm. However, I can assist you in causing it. I am providing real-time navigation assistance to Mari through her neural uplink, directing Jerro to ship resources, and aiding you with target discrimination.

  In tight formation, the avian squad turned and dove swiftly, evading Greg’s volley. In unison, they returned their own round of blasts towards the cockpit of the ship.

  Mari, heads up! Greg shoved the warning into the mindspace.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  The ship wrenched into a barrel roll. A success this time. No explosion, but a near miss.

  I’m getting set up in the aft turret, Jerro sent, breath tight with effort. This one has a slide system so I can move across the stern… His awe slipped through anyway. This is impressive engineering.

  Lunda cut in before anyone could argue with that. I’ve evaluated reasonable outcomes and recommend withdrawal as the best course of action.

  Mari’s jaw set. I can feel her. I know what she can do.

  The vessel whipped around, rotating into an elongated somersault spin and cutting the primary thrusters. As their trajectory came into alignment with the enemy formation, she shifted to full power, adhering the boys to their seats. For the first time, she felt like something wasn’t pushing back when she reached for it.

  Jerro, starboard, Mari sent. I’ve got something in mind.

  She cut the primary thrusters again, and a series of accessory points along the left side radiated an indigo glow. They drifted hard, exposing the entire right side to the birds but simultaneously allowing both turrets to open a full attack. Jerro and Greg let off sequential blasts. The first was dodged. Greg’s volley, however, landed squarely on the formation, impacting the central bird. It immediately dropped out of the sky and plummeted towards the jungle canopy, a streamer of smoke indicating its descent.

  The remaining two returned a direct round of laser fire. This time, the reflexive shielding spun up and absorbed the blasts as a hexagonal shield pattern emanated, then subsided from the impact point.

  As Mari regained control of the ship, Lunda rang through their minds.

  Additional enemies approaching from indicated direction.

  Simultaneously, Mari caught sight of Lunda’s warning in her periphery. Another tight formation of three birds dropped from the cover provided by the thickening sheet of stratocumulus clouds. The formation was too clean. Too deliberate. Whatever these things were, they were hunting them.

  Why didn’t you let me know sooner? Mari sent, the thought sharp with panic and sharper with herself.

  I’m sorry, Mari, Lunda replied. An advanced signature cloaking masked their position until they broke cover.

  Jerro felt Mari’s frustration spike and vanish, leaving something colder behind it.

  Their shots were still chasing the last two birds from the first formation when the sky split open. The new formation let out a torrent of laser fire and followed up with an energy ball. The sphere crackled and snapped as it impacted the reflexive shielding. Suddenly it stopped. All forward progress halted. Pulsating energy flickered through the hexagonal shielding, shifting from a gentle blue into a deep violet, then finally transitioning into a dominant red. The orb’s progress restarted, and it slipped through the shielding accompanied by a resonating detonation.

  Mari was torn from her seat by the blast. Phlip joined her, heaped against the far side of the cockpit. As she stood to survey the damage, a volley of laser fire forced her to take cover behind the control foundation. She could hear the material of the hull splintering in a horrific tearing sound as she avoided the unrelenting salvo.

  Mari, I recommend the use of restraint systems in the future. Lunda sent.

  Seriously Lunda? I gathered as much. Are you guys okay? Mari sent.

  All good up here, Greg sent back. Or… down? We’re dropping. Fast.

  Gravity shifted, and Mari slid towards the front of the flight deck.

  I’m all in one piece, I think, Jerro sent, strained. What was that?

  Lunda’s answer came crisp, but not cold. Energy readings indicate the reflexive shielding was penetrated by a quantum pulsar. Engines are disabled. Recommend bracing for impact in approximately thirteen seconds.

  Lunda’s voice began to count down as a redundant red light source took over, illuminating the interior of the ship.

  Greg’s laugh came out thin. Well. This was fun.

  Jerro gripped the sides of the seat. Mari, why? Why didn’t you listen?

  Hold on! Not yet! Mari sent back, determination seeping through.

  Mari grabbed Phlip as the ship's free fall accelerated. Greg and Jerro checked their restraints and prepared for impact. Greg’s view became a rapidly approaching array of vine-laden treetops. Jerro stared into the darkening sky. Fat drops of rain began to splat against the translucent capsule. Keeping their distance, the two formations of long-necked birds circled the trail of impending wreckage like vultures.

  Mari wrestled the controls, attempting to regain power and command of the ship. Her efforts were futile.

  Greg watched, helpless, as the ship pierced into the jungle like a knife driving into its target. His face wrinkled and eyes narrowed. Frantically, he grasped at the tight straps that swept over his shoulders and down his broad chest, fastening him into the seat. The curved window on the turret cracked as branches impacted and broke under the ship. The jungle floor came into view. Vines snapped and whipped in a chaotic cacophony, followed by a burst of sound so intense it resonated through the ship and slowly dissipated.

  In an instant, it all stopped.

  Greg’s eyes were closed by now, and as he slowly opened them he realized they had yet to hit the ground, but were close enough that he watched a long orange insect with thousands of legs scurry across the jungle floor.

  The ship began reversing, pulling out of the shattered mess of trees and foliage just how it had entered.

  Lunda, Mari. Greg’s thought snapped tight with disbelief. Are you doing this? What’s happening?

  I don’t think it was me, Mari sent, and the uncertainty in it made Greg’s stomach turn.

  Lunda’s reply came fast, threaded with alert. Anomalous energy source detected in close proximity. Emergency systems override in effect. Extreme caution advised.

  As they came to a soft hover above the canopy, they saw it. A figure suspended in the air, with the appearance of a large marmot, hind paws floating weightlessly and a long dark cloak lofting in the developing wind. Its eyes glowed a bright purple. A polearm weapon slung on its back and a light yet well-fitted armored chest piece graced its torso. A paw extended, clenched in a fist, mirrored the movement of their ship with seemingly little effort.

  Mari sent it before she could stop herself. You seeing this?

  Yep. Jerro’s reply was clipped.

  Greg said nothing, still reeling from his headfirst death dive.

  Mari exited the cockpit and positioned herself on the deck, Phlip at her side. She smiled, unsure if it would even be seen at this distance, and produced a hesitant wave towards the stranger.

  In an instant, it gestured with its free paw and projected a powerful mind blast that tore at Mari. She dropped for cover with her back to the lower solid portion of the railing. The blast ripped overhead and over the roof of the cockpit. It impacted the central bird from the approaching trio that had downed their ship.

  Mari peeked her head over the railing and saw two heavy powered suits now flanking the stranger. Each hovered on small thrusters mounted along the limbs, with three larger jets on the back. Marred with soot and grime, the alabaster armor had lost whatever luster it once held, fading against the ashen sky. Their mirrored visors lifted as they appeared to confer with the cloaked figure. From her position, Mari caught a flicker of rough fur shifting behind the helmet glass, but the rest was lost to distance.

  The visors dropped. The suits split in opposing directions, and dual cannons deployed over their broad, plated shoulders. Mari watched each armored figure surge toward the now-reduced bird formations. The ship lurched beneath her as it began moving again over the jungle.

  With a light thud, the ship came to a halt, and Mari looked over the edge again to see they had landed safely in a small glade. A cacophony of cawing erupted from the trees as colorful birds flocked to the cloud-covered sky. The space stilled, and foreign sounds poured back in at a steady pace while the rainfall created a percussive backdrop.

  Without a sound, the cloaked figure landed on the deck of the ship near Mari. She could make out details now. This was definitely a burrowing rodent, but its appearance was uncanny, not marmot, gopher or prairie dog but a combination of all, without resembling any distinctly. Its cloak was soaked and hung heavily. The ends were frayed and tattered from wear.

  In a warbled and unintelligible language, which echoed into Mari’s mind, it attempted to communicate, but was unsuccessful. It reached up to its temple and attached a small disc device and rotated it, as if it was tuning a dial.

  “How’s this?” He asked. “Can you understand me now?”

  Mari took a step closer, Phlip hanging tight to her side. “Yeah. I can.”

  The stranger did not move. His voice projected with commanding resonance and calm pacing. “Excellent. I’m Lukyaza, Prince of the Borruki. Sovereign Watcher of this sector.”

  Mari noticed a knot in her throat and forced out a reply. “Nice to meet you, Prince Lukyaza.” She paused awkwardly, his calm gaze patiently locked on her.

  “I’m Mari Stonepaw. From… The Burrow.” she said with a blushing smile. “I think.”

  She broke eye contact and quickly searched around for something else to add to the conversation.

  “Oh, and this is Phlip!” Phlip stared off into the jungle, unaware of the life-threatening peril that had just transpired.

  Greg and Jerro emerged from the access point near the flight deck, which led into the ship's interior. They hustled across the deck and joined Mari and Phlip.

  The armored suits landed hard on the deck. Their plating was charred from energy impacts, and one struggled to lift an arm that had been disabled. Scratches and scars ran across the faded surfaces—some fresh, some aged.

  The suits unfurled and opened smoothly from the front as the creatures climbed out. Like Lukyaza, their otherworldly appearance was both unsettling and striking—the kind of form that felt quintessentially burrowing rodent, distilled into something too perfect.

  Space held between the groups as they continued to inspect each other. Mari noticed a simple black-and-white crest on the left breast of each chest piece. It was outlined by a braided circle, and within it, a single hollow triangle lay upside down, overlapping the braid.

  She narrowed in on the Prince and could see his paw trembling under the folds of his lightly layered armor. He caught her attention and clasped his paws behind his back in a natural movement.

  Mari stepped forward. “Well, Lukyaza, Prince of the Borruki, where are we?”

  Lukyaza cocked his head slowly and narrowed his eyes. “This is system three-one-nine, a unitary star system, and we are on the third major celestial body from the central star.”