Amber light licked softly across the hallway, vanishing into murky shadow ahead as they walked down the hall. Whorls of latticed fungus hung in gossamer sheets from the walls, drifting gently in the air currents stirred up by their passage.

Rhuar shivered. The warm pool of light from Jesri’s floating lamp let him see well enough, but each shrouded doorway and corridor took a sinister aspect in the low light. The two women seemed unperturbed by the darkness, moving quickly now that they were free from the vegetation choking the corridors behind them.

They had moved a couple of kilometers into the darkness with no end in sight. “I think this really may continue until the inner ring,” sighed Anja. “So dreary.” She sniffed. “And musty.”

“Probably not the best air to be breathing,” agreed Rhuar. “Smells like mold and mushrooms.”

Jesri shook her head. “Fantastic,” she muttered. “Let’s just keep our pace up and try to minimize the amount of time we’re in here.” She lengthened her stride, and Rhuar broke into a trot to keep up. They continued in tense silence, their footsteps seeming to echo endlessly from every side passage.

Rhuar collided with Jesri’s legs and stumbled backwards. She had stopped suddenly, peering intently down the corridor past the light’s radius. Anja had drawn up short as well, frowning. A complaint rose and died in Rhuar’s throat as he heard the patter of soft footfalls sounding from down the hallway. A rasping noise came from the same direction, like paper sliding over stone.

Jesri shifted her weight slightly, one hand drifting to her sidearm under her cloak. The footsteps and dry rustling came closer, and Rhuar bristled. His exoskeleton folded flat, freeing his movement and shielding his legs.

They could see a figure moving towards them with a galloping lope in the dim light, its gangly limbs splaying out precariously. Jesri tensed for a moment, but then cocked her head curiously. Anja looked at her, brow furrowed, listening intently to the rasping noises. “Sister,” she murmured, “is it speaking?”

The raspy noises resolved into crackling, whispered speech as the form hurtled closer, breaking into the pool of light surrounding Jesri. “Light!”, it croaked, “No light!”

Now that it was near, they could see it clearly. Thick, grey-skinned legs and a squat torso sat low to the ground, supported by long, thin forelimbs that spidered out ahead of it as it scrambled over the decking. Three large, solid black eyes sat in a triangle on its head, twitching and shuddering as they struggled to see past the glare of the lamp. “Pleash!”, it gasped, skidding to a stop. “No light!”

Jesri and Anja shared a quick look. Anja shrugged, resting her hand nonchalantly on her gun.

Jesri reached up above her head and grabbed the light, plunging the group into sudden darkness. Quiet stretched over the hallway for a few long seconds before Jesri cleared her throat.

“So, friend,” she said, “we’re listening. Talk.”

The newcomer shifted nervously. As his eyes adjusted, Rhuar saw faint specks of blue light stretching down the corridor. The latticed sheets of fungus on the walls glowed softly, and he could make out the silhouettes of the others against the bioluminescent filigree.

“Light,” it rasped, spreading its arms. Jesri tilted her head expectantly. “Bad!”, it concluded, crossing its arms emphatically.

It was too dark to see it, but Rhuar and Anja could feel Jesri’s eyes rolling on a deep, visceral level. “So we had gathered,” she said evenly. “Why is the light bad?”

The tiny alien paced in a circle, its forelimbs shaking in agitation. “Light bad!”, it croaked insistently.

Anja walked over and knelt next to the quivering little being. “Friend bug,” she said sweetly, “tell us why the light is bad or we will turn it back on.”

“No!”, it yelped, then cringed at the noise. “Light bad, bad, bad,” it whispered. It drew itself up, looking at Anja. The blue light from the walls reflected like stars in the black of its eyes. “Light danzher,” it said firmly. “Light bad.”

Jesri snorted. “A fifth word. Danger? All right. What danger?”

Its head darted around, looking up and down the hall. “Bad danzher.” It scuttled over to a side passage, then crooked its arms in a beckoning gesture. “Come shafe,” it whispered, pointing down the passageway.

Jesri and Anja looked at each other again. This time, Jesri shrugged. “Sure,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to run into any bad danger.” She walked over to where the little alien was urging them forward, addressing it directly. “We’ll follow you, friend, as long as it’s safe.” She placed her hand conspicuously on her sidearm.

The alien shrank back from her, trilling softly. “Come shafe, shafe,” it muttered, scuttling off down the passageway.

They trailed along after their guide, winding through side corridors and narrow access walkways. The alien was furtive, crouching to scout ahead at intersections and proceeding only after a careful check of the area. The shaky nervousness from before had fled from its stance, replaced by a grim deliberativeness of motion.

“This one walks like he is defusing a bomb,” murmured Anja.

Jesri grimaced. “Either he’s putting on a show for our benefit or he’s convinced death is waiting around every corner,” she whispered. “I’m not sure that I like either of those options.”

Rhuar snuffled. The corridors had an ever-increasing stench of mold and rot layered over an eerie silence. With so many station systems deprived of power, the hum that normally masked small noises was replaced by an echoing stillness, punctuated by soft drips, clicks and other indistinct sounds that made him feel as though someone was stalking along behind him.

At least the darkness wasn’t absolute. The glowing fungus that coated the walls provided more than enough light to see obstacles, now that his eyes were fully adjusted. Looking down the long halls, a swirling cascade of azure traced the curve of the bulkheads and the arched span of the ceiling. It was oddly beautiful, despite the pee-inducing terror that was scrabbling at the back of his mind.

As Rhuar gazed down one corridor, he noted a particularly bright glow from an intersection several dozen meters away. “Hey,” he whispered, “what is-”

He fell silent, watching the glow. It was noticeably brighter, and increasing in brightness as he watched. Their guide whirled to face it and let out a low hiss before diving for cover around a nearby corner. “Danzher!”, it breathed, flattening itself against the wall. “Bad, bad, bad!”

Rhuar didn’t waste time on further questions. He crouched low against the same wall, crowding into the corner. Jesri and Anja took up another alcove across the corridor, weapons drawn.

From around the far corner, a tall, lanky figure revealed itself as the source of the glow. It slouched forward, a flaming torch grasped tightly in one hand. The dull light of the fire seemed impossibly bright in the darkness, sending flickering shadows questing down the hall past their hiding spots.

Another figure joined the first, and another. They carried crude clubs and torches, their bodies swathed in a ragged blend of cloth and leather. Jesri recognized a few species - slight, winged Tlixl, many-legged Arrigh, even a few lumbering Kita - but even more figures in the crowd evaded her classification as they patrolled past the junction. The last one of them to pass was a massive Dhumma over three meters in height, its footfalls shaking the deck. A bandolier across its chest swung heavy with leering skulls from a dozen species and it carried a wicked-looking glaive fashioned from metal scrap.

The last of the patrol moved past the junction, and the glow of their torches diminished to leave the four of them crouched in blue-spangled darkness once more. Rhuar sniffed and shot Jesri a look. “Looks like those spooky cannibal bandits get around more than you thought,” he hissed.

He saw a flash of white teeth as she smiled back. “I owe you lunch,” she whispered, holstering her weapon. She turned and tapped Anja on the shoulder. “What do you think?”

Anja stowed her own weapon and adjusted her cloak. “Not a threat individually, except for the big one. We could have a problem if they surprised us or attacked as a group.”

Jesri nodded, then cast a glance towards the small alien. It hauled itself to its feet shakily and peered around the corner, then straightened up. “Shafe, shafe, shafe,” it muttered, resuming its walk down the corridor.

They walked for a while longer, navigating deeper into the black maze of passages. The little alien stopped suddenly in front of an unremarkable maintenance hatch. Its forelimbs spread to grasp the edges of the panel, which popped out to reveal an access tunnel behind it.

After they had entered the tunnel and carefully replaced the access panel, they followed the tunnels for several meters and emerged in a wide, dimly lit room. The little alien chittered happily and tore off running towards a collection of old crates stacked against the far wall, soft flickering light visible from within.

“Looks like an old maintenance bay,” Jesri mused, “drone storage or something. Only accessible via the maintenance tunnels.” She looked over towards the crates, which were arranged in a loose semicircle. “Defensible, hidden. Smart choice to hole up here if they needed to hide.”

Their guide reappeared along with a larger version of itself, who advanced cautiously. It moved stiffly, and as it came closer Jesri could make out stripes or striations across its skin. She got the sense of age, or illness. Behind them, three smaller aliens peered curiously from the line of crates.

The old alien stopped nearby and fixed them with a piercing look. “Kenet-Ei says that he found you wandering the halls, lit up like a hundred torches,” it whispered, its voice like soft falling sand. “Which means you are either very brave or very stupid.”

Jesri smiled at the alien and shrugged. “I like to think we’ve got good self-confidence,” she replied. She glanced down to their guide. “Your name is Kenet-Ei?”, she asked. He chirped happily in response. “Thank you for telling us of the danger and leading us here,” she said. The little alien chirped again, bobbling its head back and forth in what Jesri assumed was a pleased gesture.

The elder alien chuffed at them. “I am named Kenet-Tel. I beg your forgiveness for being forward, but I must know this from you.” Its three eyes peered intensely at the group, and it leaned forward. “You are from off-station, are you not?”

Anja’s eyes narrowed, but Jesri held up a hand before she could respond. “What if we were?”, she asked, her tone neutral.

Kenet-Tel spread his arms wide, lowering his head. “Please do not misunderstand me. I have been living on this station for a long, long time, and I have not seen a visitor in years. It has been… hard, here.” He looked down at the decking. “When my children were nothing more than nestlings I tried to leave, but I could not pay for a ship. I had to take them here and hide from the others, live in the darkness. My youngest three cannot remember anything else.”

He straightened up and looked Jesri in the eye. “If you have a ship I must beg of you, please - take my children off this station. I will do anything, give anything, but I cannot let them stay here. And if I can earn my own passage beside them, my gratitude would be endless.” He looked at the trio and seemed to consider saying more, but he folded his arms and stayed silent, waiting.

Jesri frowned, thinking. “Kenet-Tel, how well do you and your children know the passages going inward, towards the center ring?”

The old alien shifted nervously. “We know the passages as we know the faces of our nest. Most of my children know little else.”

Jesri glanced back towards Anja and Rhuar. The former gave a long-suffering sigh and raised her hands in surrender, while the latter gave her a curious look and panted.

Jesri smiled.

“Okay,” she said, “if you can guide us on safe paths to the inner ring and back out again then we’ll consider that payment for transport to another station. I can’t promise we’ll go straight there after we leave, but we’ll take you with us.”

Kenet-Tel leaned back on his hind feet and closed his eyes, translucent membranes sweeping over the large black sclera. “It will be dangerous, to move so far in a group. But we will die in darkness if we stay, so I will risk dying in darkness to leave. We will guide you.”

He crooked one of his thin arms, and the remaining three children ran up to huddle behind him, their angular faces peeking out from behind his legs. Anja bent down to coo and wave at the tiny aliens, who cheeped softly and hid further behind their father. Kenet-Tel looked down at them reproachfully. “Forgive them, please,” he said, “they are young and a bit shy. These three cannot speak yet, and Kenet-Ei must molt again before he can form words well.”

The younger alien chittered and bobbled his head. “Shpeek ghood.”

Kenet-Tel stroked his son’s head with a forelimb. “We have nothing to take with us, so we will leave when you wish to depart.”

Jesri nodded and turned to the others. “Good to go?”, she asked.

Rhuar and Anja nodded. She turned back to Kenet-Tel and gestured towards the panel. “Lead on.”

They followed the family of aliens through winding twists of hallway speckled with luminous midnight blue, Kenet-Ei taking point. His younger siblings clustered around Kenet-Tel, keeping close to his legs. Their pace was slow and cautious to allow for careful reconnaissance of every intersection and junction. Twice they laid still and quiet, watching the angry orange glow of torchlight move across their path in the distance.

After a maze of utility passages crowded with boxes and debris, they emerged in a long, narrow hall with a massive door at the end. Kenet-Tel turned to Jesri, waving his arm at the door. “We have arrived. This is the end of the passage, the door to the inner ring.”

Rhuar ran over eagerly to inspect the door. “Wow, this one is massive. I’ve never been this far in on a station before.” His exoskeleton popped arms out to prod the smooth metal, tracing the seam of the door. “Yeah, damn - I don’t think I could get this thing open in a hundred years.”

Kenet-Tel snorted. “It has been closed for much longer than that. It may never be opened.”

Rhuar chuckled. “Would you care to make a wager on that?”

The old alien gave him a look. “I cannot. I have been living in abject poverty in the dark for many years. I have nothing with which to wager.”

Rhuar’s ears twitched. “I didn’t… uh.” His exoskeleton arms waved aimlessly, then folded back against his limbs.

Anja laughed, walking over to the door. “Poor doggie. At least you’d have won the wager.” She placed her hand on the door panel, and the giant slab of metal ground open with a high metallic whine. Blinding shafts of light lanced through the opening, shattering the darkness around them.

Jesri winced and put her hand over her eyes. “Damn, that’s bright. Looks like the power’s on in the inner ring, at least. Let’s head in.” She jogged through the door, scanning the room beyond.

Kenet-Tel’s mouth worked soundlessly. “What-”, he managed, leaning against the wall. “How?”

Rhuar grinned wolfishly at him. “You get used to it after a while. Come on!” He bounded over to follow Anja through the door.

They paced quickly down the hall, this one clean and brightly lit. Kenet-Tel’s brood hung close to him, heads swiveling rapidly as they took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Jesri rushed the group forward, tossing a glance behind her as she walked. The massive door behind them had failed when they tried to close it, and the shining light from the inner core was a blinding beacon in the dark warrens of the middle ring. It was only a matter of time before the roving patrols saw the light and investigated.

Anja gave a small shout of glee when she spotted the central terminal room, running over to the door. She flew into the nearest chair and began working the console, flitting through directories at lightning speed. Rhuar and Kenet-Tel followed her in, gawping at the displays and giant server racks lining the room.

Jesri stopped at the threshold of the room, a detail having caught in the corner of her eye. “Oh Anja,” she called, her voice saccharine. “I’ve just spotted my favorite room on the station. I’m going to go check it out.”

Anja waved her off without looking or offering a response, her other hand tapping a rapid sequence on the console.

As Jesri vanished down the corridor, Rhuar turned back to Anja. “So, uh. What was that about? Does she need to pee or something?”

Anja giggled. “Silly doggie. She’s just checking out something interesting.” She withdrew a black box from her cloak, unspooling a cable to jack into the console.

Rhuar chuffed air out his nose. “I’m not a doggie.” He peered at the display, which was showing a rapid scroll of text and icons. “What are you looking for, anyway?”

“Flight logs,” said Anja, her voice distant. She had found actual files now and was flipping through data summaries. Abbreviated snippets of audio played and were cut off over and over as she skimmed through transmission data.

“From Harsi? We’re probably the only ship to come here in years.” Rhuar’s ears dropped. “Oh, fuck. You mean earlier.”

Anja grinned wider. “Rude doggie. Yes, quite a lot earlier. I’m looking for the last ship that humans ever built.” She punched her finger down on the console triumphantly and a file swam to life on the display. Atop the display, the words “TNS GRAND DESIGN - CRUISER, SPECIAL DETACHMENT” shone bright and red.

Anja pressed another button, and a voice filled the room. “This is Captain Zachary Coates,” it said in clear English, “TNS Grand Design. On our way out of Ariadne we were clipped by a Golf Bravo that killed several crew and crippled our reactor. Currently unable to link up with primary group. We will have to try for the rendezvous on Zephyr. Our reactors will last until then if we don’t push them hard, so we’re keeping to low hyperspace until we’ve cleared the Aurelius gravity well. Everything but the hyperdrive and life support is running on reserve power for the moment. Containment is holding. We will update with our status in two days. Grand Design out.”

Rhuar and Kenet-Tel stood speechless for a few moments. The thin grey alien turned to Rhuar. “What did it say?”, he asked.

Rhuar shook his head. “Damage report from a ship, with some plans for a rendezvous.”

Anja looked at him, impressed. “I didn’t know you spoke English.”

Rhuar grinned at her. “Dogs are terrans too, you know. What’s so special about the ship?”

Anja’s smile faded. “It was carrying something of great importance.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined. “You can’t just blueball me with ‘something of great importance’ and not elaborate a bit.”

Anja fixed him with a look, her eyes blank. “I’ll tell you, if you really want to know,” she said evenly. “How much do you know about the death of humanity?”

“Uh,” stumbled Rhuar, “not much. I know that everyone even close to a human died, all at the same time. Any planet with a human population on it was a wasteland. Trillions died, and we’ve been working our way back up the ladder for five thousand years.”

“Yes,” Anja hissed, baring her teeth. “Do you know why?”

Rhuar edged away from Anja’s chair. “No, I don’t.”

Anja stood up, pacing. “We were at war, in those final years, although we never fired a shot. We had discovered a neighbor on our borders, hugely powerful and advanced. Made all of the technological accomplishments of humankind look like toys. They were friendly, though. Let us ask questions, taught us new technology.”

She closed her eyes. “Then they told us that they were researching vacuum energy. Unlimited power, tapped from the fabric of space itself. They had figured out how to do it safely, with just one precondition - they had to destroy the universe first.”

Kenet-Tel drew back. “I do not understand. How could that benefit them?”

Anja shook her head. “They were going to propagate a lower energy state of vacuum, which would eventually spread to the entire universe. The conversion to a lower vacuum state is violent, very violent. They had some way to survive the conversion, but they didn’t care about the rest of the universe. They considered us entertaining, but ultimately insignificant next to their own potential - like bacteria.”

Rhuar shuddered. “That’s so fucked up. How did you stop them?”

Anja looked at him, bemused. “Stop them?”

“Well, yeah,” said Rhuar, puzzled. “We’re still here, aren’t we?”

“Oh, we tried to stop them - but ultimately failed,” she said softly. “We diverted a significant portion of our military research to building something that could hurt them enough to stop the project. They found out right after we launched the Grand Design with the weapon aboard. They triggered gamma-ray bursts from a few dozen stars and focused them through hyperspace. They were all timed to arrive at once, and they scoured entire star systems bare. We never stood a chance.”

Her face grew bitter and pinched. “We didn’t make a dent in their schedule. They’ve been working on their project for thirty thousand years. They could finish in another thirty thousand years, or tomorrow. When they do, we will all die so quickly that we won’t even know anything was wrong.”

Kenet-Tel slouched forward. “I give thanks for the long years of my life I spent unaware of that story.”

Rhuar slumped down as well. “Seriously. That’s the most depressing thing I’ve heard since we met Kenet-Tel.” He ignored the pointed look from beside him and gestured to the display. “How will finding the ship help? Do you have a plan?”

Anja showed her teeth in a humorless smile. “Find the ship, recover the weapon, kill the enemy, save the universe.”

Rhuar gave her a look. “The last time anyone got on that ship, they shot at you with stars. You two are going to take this on alone?”

“You are not coming?”, pouted Anja, affecting a hurt look. “I was going to let you fly the ship.”

Rhuar made a strangled noise. “You fight dirty.”

“I knew I could count on you,” said Anja sweetly, unjacking the black box from her console and stowing it in her cloak again. “I have what I need from here, let’s go find my sister.”

She placed her palm on the door and it hissed up, revealing the hall beyond. “I believe she went left-”

A fist slammed into her stomach and she flew backwards, sliding along the floor to rest in a heap. Rhuar watched in horror as the towering Dhumma ducked his head to enter the terminal room. A throng of other bandits waited behind it, eagerly brandishing clubs and crude maces.

Kenet-Tel’s children fled to hide behind his legs as the old alien stepped back, eyes flitting around the room for cover or escape.

The Dhumma laughed, a low grunting wheeze escaping his mouth folds. “Told you I smelled food,” he rumbled. Laughter echoed from behind him as the rest of the patrol crowded into the room. Rhuar backpedaled, quickly running into a server behind him.

A group of three thin aliens peeled off from the main group to close on Kenet-Tel, huddled in a corner. They advanced slowly, jeering at the old alien as he stood shaking between the attackers and his children. The closest raised his club to strike and Kenet-Tel flinched away, raising his arms instinctively.

The alien’s head exploded with a wet pop and the hiss of superheated steam, showering Kenet-Tel with hot gore. Anja coughed and levered herself into a seated position with her free arm, firing her pistol twice more. The shots took the remaining attackers in the center of mass, gouts of blood and steam filling the terminal room with a vile stench.

More of the bandits charged towards her and she rolled away, coming up in a half-crouch and snapping off shots that destroyed abdomens and severed legs on the charging aliens. They stopped, three spreading out to encircle her with raised clubs. She took a low stance, pistol extended, her other hand drawing a short knife from her boot. A feral grin played across her lips and her eyes flashed with excitement. “So rude,” she purred.

One of them, an Arrigh, yelled hoarsely and swarmed towards her, segmented legs clacking against the deck. Anja ducked left under its wild club swing, then sprang right to land beside the surprised alien with her knife extended. It staggered, arms clasped weakly against its thorax as white and pale yellow entrails dribbled out of an open wound across its chest.

Anja flicked a drop of milky blood off of her knife and fired two shots at the nearest alien. It collapsed in a ruin of shredded flesh as its remaining companion screamed a challenge towards Anja, stepping in for a vicious swipe with an improvised maul.

She sidestepped neatly, slid forward and stabbed her knife into the alien’s wrist. It howled and fell back, clutching its arm, only to be trampled as the Dhumma charged and caught Anja across the chest with the shaft of his glaive. The blow sent her rolling across the floor for several meters, her arm held protectively against her ribs. Her pistol’s capacitors trilled softly as it slid to a stop across the room from her.

The Dhumma’s mouth hung open, ropes of drool sliding down his jowls. “Time to die, food,” he said, lumbering towards her. Anja looked up, trying to scramble backwards as he loomed closer to her. As he swept his glaive high she suddenly looked behind him and grinned.

“My sister’s favorite room is the armory,” she said conversationally.

The Dhumma paused mid-stride. “What?”, he grunted.

A blaze of white light erupted from the doorway, a mangled body went flying back to crash into the other bandits. They went down in a tangle, falling aside while Jesri darted around to hurl herself at the Dhumma. He spun to face her with a roar, his blade whipping towards her head. Her right hand shot up to intercept it and the blade struck with a deep clang, flashing actinic light. The Dhumma blinked. Jesri glowered back at the Dhumma and flexed her hand, shattering the metal blade in a spray of red-hot fragments.

Rhuar gaped in awe. Her right arm was encased in armor up to the shoulder, carbon-polymer muscles bulging under a plated metallic skin. Her clenched fist was wreathed in a flickering cloud of plasma, which snapped back to crackle in tight bands across her hand as she opened it.

The Dhumma roared in anger and slashed towards her with the smoking shards of metal remaining on his weapon. She whirled to grab it again with her armored fist. He strained against her grip, and with a flare of plasma she pulled the ruined glaive towards her to draw him off-balance. Her other hand came up and fired a pistol shot into his leg, pulping it. He bellowed, falling forward, and Jesri’s armored fist swung high to pound him down against the deck. Light rippled from her arm and rent into the hulking alien’s chest, tearing a gaping hole through to the decking. The Dhumma gasped, twitched, and died.

Jesri snapped her head up to glare at the remaining bandits, her right arm shining with gleaming metal and arcing fire.

As one, they threw down their clubs and ran out of the room, their footsteps echoing in the hallway.