The Galactic Plumber

Lost and Found

If there was one universal truth, it was that things only got worse before they got better. And judging by the fact that we were stranded on a haunted derelict ship with a glowing-eyed mystery woman and a space horror watching us from the ceiling… things were about to get a whole lot worse.

The woman, still barefoot from stepping out of cryo, stretched like someone waking from a pleasant nap instead of a decades-long slumber in the middle of a death trap. She had short-cropped, silvery hair, and her skin was etched with golden symbols that pulsed faintly, shifting like liquid light beneath her flesh.

The monster on the ceiling hadn't moved. It just watched.

And then she turned her attention to us.

"I assume you're not here by accident," she said, her voice smooth but edged with something… old.

Ryker stepped forward, weapon still raised. "We were sent to investigate. Didn't expect to find a survivor."

She chuckled. "Survivor is a strong word. Prisoner is more accurate."

Benny, still gripping his scanner like a security blanket, swallowed hard. "Uh. Quick question. What the hell is that?" He pointed at the creature above us.

The woman's glowing eyes flicked upward. The thing—black, hulking, wrong—seemed to shrink beneath her gaze.

"That," she said calmly, "was my jailer."

It moved then, shifting along the ceiling, limbs twisting at unnatural angles. Its maw gaped open, rows of teeth folding into the darkness of its throat.

I had seen a lot of things in deep space. I had wrestled sentient plumbing nightmares, barely escaped garbage tsunamis, and fought a poop monster that developed feelings.

But this? This was something else.

And I really didn't want to find out what it could do.

"Okay," I said, taking a step back. "I think it's time we left."

The woman shook her head. "Leaving isn't that simple. Not with the Warden still alive."

Orla scoffed. "The Warden? That thing has a name?"

The Warden let out a low, chittering growl.

"We need to move," the woman said. "Now."

I wasn't about to argue.

Escape Plan, Sort Of

We ran.

The Warden didn't chase immediately—it just… watched. Studied us. That was somehow worse.

The woman led us through the rusted, overgrown corridors of the Acheron, moving with purpose. She didn't seem lost, but she also didn't seem rushed. Like she had all the time in the world, even while a nightmare creature stalked us.

"Okay, now that we're all fleeing for our lives together," I panted, "who are you?"

She barely glanced back. "I was once called Captain Aurelia Voss."

Orla nearly tripped. "Captain Voss? The same Aurelia Voss who vanished thirty years ago?"

Voss didn't confirm or deny it. She just kept walking.

"Wait," Benny said, putting the pieces together. "You were the captain of this ship?"

"More or less," she admitted. "But the Acheron isn't a ship anymore. It's a prison. One I was locked inside."

Ryker kept his rifle up. "And what exactly did you do to earn that?"

Voss smiled, and it wasn't exactly reassuring. "I tried to stop it from spreading."

"Stop what?" I asked.

We rounded a corner. Ahead of us, the hallway ended in a massive, sealed blast door. The edges were covered in black veins, pulsing faintly like the ship itself was still breathing.

Voss stopped, turning to us. "Tell me," she said, "how much do you know about the Entity?"

Benny groaned. "Why does everything keep coming back to that thing?"

Voss placed a hand on the blast door. The golden sigils on her skin pulsed, and with a deep, shuddering groan, the door began to open.

Beyond it was something I was not expecting.

A control room. Still functional. Screens flickered with readouts, power levels, and a map of the ship—one that showed the infestation spreading.

At the center of the room was a massive containment unit.

Inside it was… something else.

Not the Warden. Not human. Something in-between.

It was humanoid, but its body was made of shifting black tendrils, flickering between solid and shadow.

It opened its eyes.

And looked right at us.

The Thing in the Box

"Okay," I said slowly, hand hovering over my plasma cutter. "Someone explain why we're looking at another nightmare in a jar?"

Voss exhaled. "That's what I was trying to stop. That's why I was locked away."

Orla crossed her arms. "And that is?"

"A fragment," Voss said. "A piece of the Entity. Separated. Contained. But not for much longer."

The containment field was weakening. I could hear it—a dull, rhythmic pulse, like a dying heartbeat.

Ryker stepped forward. "If it's a piece of the Entity, why not just destroy it?"

Voss smiled. "You don't kill a god by cutting off its hand. You bind it. Lock it away."

Benny, who had been looking at the ship map, let out a nervous laugh. "Uh. Hate to break up this debate, but the Warden? It's moving. And it's coming here."

Of course it was.

Voss turned back to the console, hands moving across controls with practiced ease. "Then we don't have much time. We need to get off this ship."

"No arguments there," I muttered.

But as soon as she started entering commands, the containment field flared.

The thing inside twitched.

Then it spoke.

A voice that wasn't a voice. A whisper in my skull.

"You cannot hold me forever."

The lights flickered.

A deep, resonating hum filled the air.

And then—

The ship screamed.

Not the alarms. Not the hull groaning.

The ship itself.

Because the Warden wasn't coming alone.

And we were running out of time.