After a while that could be anywhere between one minute and an hour, the ship enters the asteroid stream, going alongside it, easily avoiding larger asteroids and ignoring smaller ones even when they crash into the hull. There seems to be a barrier around the ship, which I really like. It’s magic.

But something’s clawing at the back of my mind, even when things calm down and Typhin seems confident enough to let go of the doorframe.

Something left unfinished, something unknown and unkilled. But I can't tell what, so I just sit there.

Typhin approaches and sits down next to me on the bed. “What is your goal in life, Mort?”

“Uh. Nothing really, sir.”

“Really?” he asks. “What about the Empire? Plenty of men willing to die for the Empire. You wouldn’t be one of them, then?”

“I don’t think so, no. I only learnt of it today. How can I die for a cause I don’t even know?”

“I understand you, Mort, I really do. But plenty die for causes they don’t really know. Take the rebels, for example. They’re all rallying behind the idea of a better galaxy, of a galaxy where everyone is ‘free’ and happy. That if only the Empire disappeared and the Emperor died, all planets would simply stumble into peace. But they’re wrong, Mort. You listen to me here: the rebels are wrong. They use terrorism to force entire worlds into submission and have no mind for killing however many troopers and ships and people they need to in order to win. If you meet a rebel, remember, whatever they say: they’re really against you.”

Huh. “But they don’t even know me, sir?”

“They don’t need to know you, Mort. If you’re on the side of the Empire, to them, you’re just another body to shoot down cold. They have no care for lives and will only care for you if you have some use for them.” His mouth’s just running along. Speaking absently while he stares out the window, looking at the asteroids whizzing by. “At the moment, the rebellion is the greatest threat to peace the galaxy has to offer. Apart from pirates and criminals, that is, though they could likely be slotted into the same catego-,”

“Pirates, sir!? Are there really space pirates about, sir??”

He gives me a plain look. “Of course. Plenty here in the unknown regions, but even more in the outer rim. In some ways, they’re better than the rebels, if only because pirates will do anything for a hard crate of credits.”

“Whoa… pirates…” And space pirates, too…! Ah, the dream life… Surfing the solar winds, free as a bird-like alien, following no rules but the rules of the galaxy, trusting those around you with your life, making a family of the stars and friends of the planets… The kind of life no man can experience, but the kind of life we all must dream of at some point. Maybe joining this Empire thing was a bad idea. Maybe I should become a pirate instead.

“Then again, merciless as they are, if they can get away with five more credits by putting a knife in your back, they’ll gladly do it. Luckily, I’ve only ever run into pirates once. We shot them down before they could even try to bargain.”

“Aww,” yeah, okay, no pirating. Dying? Highly uncool. Killing (humans)? Even uncooler.

And for an hour or so, while the ship cruises through the asteroids, we keep talking. The ship has a captain and we have much to talk about. Just little things. Maybe not anything important in the thick of it, but little personal observations. How Typhin’s cruiser, the one he was captain of when sent on the mission that brought him here, was named “Miss Magna” by the crewmates. How it only had a single cafeteria where everyone, officers and troopers and technicians, all had to eat together. How he liked it that way. How he enjoyed seeing the faces of the troopers, hearing their different voices, each distinct in voice and word.

How he only had one first mate and no second, and how this one person - another Lieutenant like the captain of this ship - was actually older than Typhin. But far from jealous. No, the good lieutenant had found Typhin’s passion endearing. They made a good team, and at first, they were able to get here in one piece.

“At least their deaths have allowed me to locate Ilsa. And to find yo-,”

His words die on his tongue as a shadow passes before the window. Not an asteroid. Not anything hard. Nothing never-alive.

An eye.

A massive yellow eye that seems to see us for the tiny thing we are, surrounded by blue flesh, freckled with small lights that pulse and beat. Alive. Massive. Engulfing. The leviathan.

Oh God.

“What is that?!” Typhin spits out and I can only barely look at him before the leviathan does what it does best and attack. The world outside, all the billions of stars, are instantly dimmed as the jaws of the leviathan clasp around the hull of the ship, the fangs of the massive creature only barely stopped by the yet intact barrier around it. But it won’t hold for long. I share a glance with Typhin.

We fly off of the bed and out of the door, rushing down the hall and towards the cockpit with greater speed than should be needed, only stopping to almost fumble and fall when the entire ship shakes and quakes.

Jesus christ, jesus shit-,

The only thing keeping me from tumbling ass over starboard is a skilful balancing act using my tail and arms.

“Quick, hurry!” someone says breathlessly, but I’m not sure if it’s Typhin or someone else, since there seems to be a flurry of activity about and around and inside the ship, people seemingly coming out of nowhere to rush here and there, running by us with the proper speed needed for the situation, some shouting about how they need to get to the blaster cannons or whatnot, all the while I and Typhin try our best just to get to the cockpit, despite the shaking and movements.

We find the cockpit bereft of its guards, but we’re still somehow able to make it inside, all to find the Lieutenant screaming orders at about everyone in the room, including regular troopers, the pilots, technicians, his own first mate…

“Man the cannons! Engage the thrusters, all power to the shields, aim for the ey-,”

Typhin hesitates to step in for a moment, but only that and no more. “Lieutenant!”

The Lieutenant turns to face us, face red and eyes bloodshot. “How dare you inter-, oh, Commander! Forgive me, how may I help you?” A strained smile spreads across his face like a viral disease.

Typhin takes a hold of my shoulder. “I believe I may know something that may help.” Wait, huh? Why’s he looking at me like that? “You must understand yourself that with this creature, it’s only a matter of time before it crushes our shield and hull. This isn’t some battleship, it isn’t designed to deal with a threat of this size and nature. However,” he pats my shoulder, “Mort is.”

Wh-, what?

Hang on, hang on. What does that me-,

Okay, hang on, Typhin just turned to me, I-, “I can sense your hesitance, Mort. But now is no time for that. When your officer gives you an order, you must execute it, no matter your own feelings.” Uh-, uhuh-? “Now, tell me, how far away is your other body?”