The Galactic Plumber

Things Get Worse (Because of Course They Do)

There are two universal truths about space travel:

If something can go wrong, it will go wrong. If something is already wrong, it can always get worse.

Right now, we were experiencing both at the same time.

The giant void horror behind us? Getting closer.The ship? Falling apart.Specimen 37? Still dripping mystery goo everywhere.

This was my life now.

The Thing in the Dark

The shuttle shook violently as the monstrous, shadowy mass loomed behind us. Tendrils—dozens of them—slithered through the void, pulsing with some kind of unnatural energy.

Benny's hands flew over the console, voice high-pitched with panic. "Uh, okay, good news—it's not firing weapons!"

I blinked. "That's the good news?"

"The bad news is that it's trying to drag us into its mouth."

I whipped around to the screen. Oh, yeah. There it was. A massive, writhing abyss that could probably swallow a moon. Orla swore under her breath.

Captain Ryker, usually cool as hell under pressure, gritted his teeth. "Do we have any way of breaking free?"

Benny typed furiously. "Uh, I can try overloading the engines, but, fun fact, that might also explode us."

"Love that for us," I muttered.

Meanwhile, Specimen 37 was freaking out.

The little sentient sludge was shaking, its gooey surface shifting like a stormy sea. It kept pointing at the monster on the screen, then back at us, then back at the monster.

I crouched down. "Hey, buddy. What's your deal?"

It gurgled. Then it did something really weird.

It spoke.

Or at least, it tried.

At first, it was just static noises, garbled gibberish—then, suddenly, a voice.

"Flee. Before... hunger... takes all."

Everyone froze.

I slowly turned to the others. "Did... did the poop monster just talk?"

Benny let out a nervous laugh. "I hate that I'm not even surprised anymore."

Then the ship lurched violently again.

Okay. No more stalling.

Logan Does Something Reckless (Again)

I yanked open the engineering panel, scanning the mess of wires, circuits, and half-melted fuses.

"Alright, I got an idea," I said, reaching for a coil of dangerously unstable power cables.

Orla narrowed her eyes. "You always say that. And then we usually end up running for our lives."

"Exactly," I said. "So it'll probably work."

Benny peeked over my shoulder. "Ohhh no. You're about to do something stupid, aren't you?"

"Extremely."

I grabbed the cables and started rerouting power directly to the engines.

The ship wasn't built for this. If I miscalculated, we wouldn't escape—we'd explode into a glorious ball of failure and regret.

But hey, better than getting eaten by a void nightmare.

I slammed the panel shut and shouted toward the cockpit. "Benny! Full burn on my mark!"

Benny gulped. "This is a terrible idea."

"I know! Now do it!"

I flipped the switch.

Go. Go. GO.

For a second—just a second—nothing happened.

Then, suddenly—

The engines roared to life.

The ship lurched forward, engines screaming as they overloaded. The tendrils snapped taut, struggling to hold us back.

Then—one by one—they began to break.

The shuttle blasted free, rocketing through space, leaving the nightmare creature reeling behind us.

I let out a breath. "Holy crap. We made it."

Orla patted me on the back. "Nice job, chief. Didn't even explode this time."

"Yeah," I said, wiping sweat from my forehead. "New personal record."

Benny, meanwhile, was staring at the radar.

His face had gone pale.

"Uh, guys?"

I turned. "What now?"

He swallowed hard. "It's... following us."

I stared. "Are you KIDDING me?"

The shadow monster—despite taking a serious hit—was still moving.

And it was still hungry.