Nightfall enveloped the downed ship, now turned makeshift campsite. A cooling breeze provided relief from the oppressive humidity that had blanketed the jungle. The sky cleared, save for a smattering of thin clouds. The partial moon illuminated the edges of those nearby, highlighting them in a soft silvery glow. Prince Lukyaza had introduced his two companions, Guardians Natal and Maxuun. They sat on a moss-covered log, which lay on the jungle floor adjacent to a small campfire. In turn, the three friends shared their names, and Mari introduced Phlip.
The Guardians’ suits were now powered down and situated near a large tree overgrown with thick vines. They wore loose tan and white uniforms and seemed to be ?refrained in conversation despite Jerro and Greg’s attempts to get them to open up.
Jerro had made his way back to the ship, guided by Lunda. On first request, she had agreed to guide him through the mechanics that underpinned the ship's operation. The familiarity of her voice grounded him in this hostile world. A muffled ratcheting or metal clank would emanate from the interior periodically.
Hovering lights patrolled silently through the periphery of the site. They flickered in and out of view between the towering vegetation. These were security drones. The Guardians had deployed them after a thorough reconnaissance of the area.
Greg rifled through his bag and produced several slices of pizza. They were cold and held their shape well. He passed one to Mari. Greg offered the Prince and Guardians some, which they had respectfully declined. Greg and Mari looked at each other and rotated the triangular cheese-covered bread in paw.
Mari looked up at Greg. “Do you think we start from the tip or this thick end?”
Greg rolled his into a cylinder and presented it to Mari. “You could do this!”
“I’m not sure about that Greg, but don’t let me stop you,” she replied, and started gnawing at the crust. It was cold and stubborn, more chew than flavor, like it didn’t want to be eaten.
Phlip lay on his stomach near the fire and grazed through foliage on the jungle floor. His attention caught on a patch of especially good vegetation, and he settled in, taking quick, successive bites.
Mari swallowed and looked to Lukyaza, who had been observing their pizza experience. “Prince Lukyaza, what are you and the Guardians doing here?”
“We are on a mission.” He paused briefly and glanced at Maxuun and Natal. They were within earshot but preoccupied with maintaining their suits. “We are in search of an ancient—” his jaw tightened, “—relic that was said to be hidden in these hills millions of years ago when our people first settled this system.”
“We’re actually looking for a key,” Greg said quickly, then glanced at Mari. “Kind of.”
Mari pierced him with a quick glare. “Yeah, but I’m not sure where to start. We don’t even know exactly how we got here.”
The prince examined them both for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “Where exactly did you say you came from?”
“Well… it’s hard for me to fully understand the last few lunes. But, we call our home The Burrow,” Mari explained.
The Prince stared into the night sky, studying the moon. “Interesting. Does it feel familiar?” He gestured toward the moon.
Mari and Greg matched Lukyaza’s focus. Their investigation quickly revealed the answer. The silent, luminous sphere hung overhead, surrounded by a spray of bright stars. Its silver surface was scarred with dark craters, breaking any uniform appearance. This was the same moon they’d watched through The Spine’s opening back home, lune after lune. This was their planet. They were where they had always been. Greg and Mari locked wide eyes, clearly having the same realization.
Their surprise shifted to Lukyaza, who now stood with lips forming a barely perceptible smile. “You are in a familiar place, but an unfamiliar time, I think.”
The two guardians chatted quietly off to the side in their layered alien language. They moved back and forth to the suits, tinkering and making minor adjustments. At one point, they opened a panel in the back of a helmet, revealing a compartment that ejected three parabolic discs. They rearranged them and slid them back into place. Every few minutes they scanned the group around the fire, then returned to their work.
“Tell me, what is your memory of this world?” The Prince asked.
“Well, we actually didn’t leave home a lot,” Mari started.
Greg quickly interrupted. “Some of us didn’t leave home much.”
Mari rolled her eyes and continued. “The Burrow was our safe haven, and the world outside… it is—was—will be ruled by dangerous creatures. Sort of like those birds we just fought, but without the weapons and tech. Also, giant insects and… well, I’ve never seen them, but we learned about others that lived their entire life under water. Our community was forced into hiding during the war with the birds.” She trailed off after the last line, her eyes losing focus on the Prince.
“And that’s about all we know. We’ve lived our entire lives in The Burrow,” Greg picked up and rounded off Mari’s explanation.
“Wait,” Jerro cut into the conversation. He must have been standing there for a while listening, or at least long enough to put the pieces together. “We never left?”
Without a word, Greg got up and placed an arm around his friend. They sat down again next to Mari, who had shifted down the mossy log to make room.
Lukyaza registered the details they shared and returned his gaze to the moon. “Fascinating. I do have a theory that might explain how you ended up here. For millennia, our engineers and scientists have been working to bridge temporal space. They have never been completely successful. Only glimpsing time in shards… like looking through layers of broken glass and trying to discern the image on the other end. There was always a key element missing, a link.”
The Prince landed the last line squarely on Mari. Her eyes darted left then right, searching for anything but herself he may have been referring to. She was the only option.
“You think I’m that link?”
Lukyaza’s eyes lingered on her, then he turned away. He continued pacing slowly around the fire. Reaching out with his paw, he traced the stars. Glowing particulates lifted from his claws. It formed a three-dimensional visual field that reflected Prince Lukyaza’s words. His recount swam into illustration. Behind it, the dense jungle flickered in the campfire light. The sky opened into an ocean, divided by a milky river.
“We come from a place far from this one, but not dissimilar. Long ago, our scientists developed a technology that allowed the instantaneous navigation of space. This opened the opportunity for our species to travel vast distances through space.” The particulate morphed into three parabolic spacecraft set against a large marbled sphere. Elongated metallic spheres moved silently against a backdrop of violet swirls that sat above deep coral-hued masses. A layered ring fitted around the planet. The colors shifted from white to yellow, then back to white. In a blinding flash, a rift formed ahead, pulling the ships through.
“More challenging though, and what I believe you three have done, is to bridge time.” The image shifted, showing their slim purple vessel. The scene pulled back until their ship turned into a dot. It hovered above a line, a simplified representation of time. A diagram traced their jump. The dot moved against the line, indicating backwards travel.
Jerro raised his paw. He quickly realized this was unnecessary and asked his question. “So, The Burrow doesn’t exist now?”
“Correct. Your home is yet to be,” the Prince answered.
Jerro sat with that response for a moment. His focus locked on the low flames. “How will we be able to get back home then?”
Lukyaza lingered on the question, then redirected with his own. “Did your vessel originate from this, Burrow?”
“No, we came fr—” Jerro was interrupted by Mari.
“We found the ship. It was…” She hesitated. “It was underground, in a cave near The Burrow.”
Jerro and Greg shifted their eyes towards her and nodded.
The Prince surveyed the three of them carefully. A natural agreement of sound had organically arisen. The crackling fire served as the percussive framework. Alien croaking and trilling created an omnipresent hum. A distant snap echoed, a tree limb being sheared. The soundscape pulsed, rising to a crescendo and then settling again in a calm rhythm.
Prince Lukyaza looked back at the moon and carried on with his history lesson. “When my progenitors came here those millions of years ago, however, they did not come alone. They had been embroiled in an endless faction war that was carried from our home system, Anunna.” The alien starships appeared again, this time engaged in battle. Smaller, agile fighters spun the space between into a spiderweb of dogfights. The scene was swept away in an explosion. All-consuming, it transformed the stellar battlefield into glowing hulks of drifting ash.
“We sought to escape this cycle of war and start anew. Our faction, known as the Borruki, were first to this world. A forward expedition brought the single moon during the primordial era. This moon stabilized the planet and protected it from external forces. It was a shield to allow evolution to take its course.” A group of Borruki gathered around a control panel set against a large rectangular window with rounded corners. Outside, the gray barren landscape gave way to darkness. A partial sphere emerged. White wisps swirled against a deep cerulean backdrop. Verdant green masses broke against the sea of blue.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Their effort was to guide the inevitable growth of life within this infantile system. We settled many of the nearby celestial bodies, but this planet, already teeming with life, held significance. Beyond the moon, every effort was made not to interfere with the natural order. Our scrolls had foretold of a world that would one day become a sanctuary for the Borruki but that any direct interference would disrupt that fate.” Terraced buildings organically integrated with the landscape. A small elongated disk zipped by, rotated and docked onto the side. The scene transitioned to a crowded market brimming with chatter. The Borruki were shown living in peace, in harmony with the order of the world.
“The original Borruki had attempted to hide the quantum signature from their folding wake; however, they were unsuccessful. All four factions made their way here in time, following the remains of that signature. Like a trail through the stars.” The display shifted. Three distinct vessels loomed across the same coral and violet mottled orb as the Borruki ship had. The first was a wide, flattened triangle with jagged, extended tips. Second was a network of smaller corvettes that moved in unison. The last starship was tall and rectangular, composed of smaller blocks that undulated in a slow, breathing rhythm.
Mari jumped in without hesitation. “So, if they followed the Borruki here… how can we be sure that we won't be next?”
Lukyaza was quiet for a long moment. “We cannot be sure, only vigilant.” His distant gaze shifted from Mari back to the projection. “We buried our wake as deeply as we knew how. However, time has a way of eroding even the best burrow.”
He shifted back to his lecture. “The combatants you just encountered are the Aviaki, feathered and capable combatants. What we fought was a scouting party. They are honorable, unlike the others, and adhere to the non-interference treaty. I believe they are searching for the same relic as my team.” A life-size version of the Aviaki stood frozen before them now. The form rotated around a central axis to give the friends a full view of the enemy they had fought earlier. A small head sat atop a? noodle-like neck. A slim, rounded beak protruded from lifeless eyes. Layers of small dark feathers formed a sleek coat, while larger snowy plumage extended from its hidden frame. Holding this monstrosity up were two bare and pale yellowed feet. Like sticks propping up a skyscraper.
“The second to come here were the Grishki, creatures exhibiting a reversal of typical anatomy, with exoskeletons and decentralized neural structures. Finally, the Ninurki arrived, with cold running blood, scaled skin and an insatiable desire for power.” A representative figure for each of these descriptions rotated in succession.
Lukyaza walked around the projected images of each of these faction creatures as he continued his explanation. The glowing particulate morphed and continued to illustrate his story.
“In Anunna, the factions battled on a massive scale. Fleets of starships destroyed and entire planets won and lost in single battles, millions of lives lost. The cost to all factions was immense. Now, this planet has become nothing but a new front in this endless war, a sandbox where the factions experiment with new techniques to dispatch each other, but on a smaller and more… intimate scale.”
He paused and stared through the flames of the fire as they licked the night sky. His eyes reflected the flames as Mari, Jerro and Greg waited for the story to continue. The wood popped, kicking Lukyaza out of his trancelike state.
“What faction were those giant creatures with the armored backs?” Jerro asked.
Lukyaza focused on Jerro. “Where exactly did you see them?”
“When we first, uh… arrived here, Greg and I spotted them in an open field. A small herd, maybe twenty or so.” He looked at Greg for approval, which he gave with a nod.
“Ah, I see. This planet was not a blank slate, and by the time our follow-on forces arrived, life had already been flourishing here, assuming the same archetypical forms associated with our factions. In all our travels through the universe, we have identified a trend among celestial bodies of this type. They always produce the same fundamental design of life, as form follows function. Even on this planet, the same fundamental forms have evolved separately after mass extinction events reset the cycle.” The images shifted to a time-lapse of the planet evolving. Single-celled organisms swimming shifted to larger, more complex life forms that moved to land. The flora and fauna shifted as eons passed before their eyes.
“So they aren’t of any faction?” Greg confirmed with Lukyaza.
“Correct, those creatures are endemic to this planet, indigenous organisms,” Lukyaza responded.
Mari interrupted again. “Your mistake… the Borruki's mistake, is the reason the war was brought here?”
“Unfortunately, you are correct, Mari. Clarity in hindsight does not absolve responsibility. This conflict spread to this system through my faction. The cycle will continue long after I cease to exist.”
“What even is the point of this war?”
“What is the point of any war?” He stared into the flames. “Fear. Fear is very good at convincing itself it is necessary. Once war becomes the lens through which survival is understood, then everything becomes justified. Resources. Ideology. Merely existing. Now they seek to find the meaning of this place, interpreting the scrolls for their own agendas. Generation after generation of my bloodline sought to protect this sanctuary, but fate is inevitable. The scrolls did not cause this conflict. We did. Now we cling to them, hoping meaning might excuse the damage.”
“What exactly do you mean by the scrolls?” Jerro inquired.
“It’s a bit of a misnomer—they are not actually written scrolls, but data storage devices, capable of tapping into void space. When the first Borruki came to this system, they crafted a set of scrolls that are said to grant the interpreter great knowledge and power. Originally they were held within the Thaullic Vault, located at the original outpost of the Borruki.” Lukyaza gestured at the moon and continued, “However, they were stolen many years ago, long before my memory. We’ve only recovered two, and without the entire set they are incoherent at best.”
Greg leaned over towards Mari and whispered, “Do you think these scrolls could be the key we’re looking for?”
“Could be?” she answered, truly unsure.
Lukyaza reached out a paw, returning the glowing particulate. “That’s enough for tonight. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Lukyaza, what do you know about the hyrax?” Mari asked suddenly.
The Prince turned back towards Mari—muscle in his jaw shifting. “The what? I’m not sure the translator picked that up?”
“The hyrax,” Mari firmly repeated.
“Hmm, you’re saying h-y-r-a-x?” His brow tightened. “I’ve no record of it.”
Mari, Jerro and Greg all looked at each other, unsure of this response. Lukyaza sensed the unease and drove the conversation forward. “At sunrise, Natal, Maxuun and I will head out to trace a signal we picked up in the hills not far from here. You are welcome to join us. After we investigate the signal, we can bring your ship back to our forward outpost. Our mechanics should be able to make repairs.”
“Well, it’s not like we have much else going on,” Greg said in response, and Mari and Jerro nodded in agreement.
“Let us all get some rest then. Good night to you all. It was a pleasure to converse. The Guardians will take watch tonight. Their drones can interface with them while asleep and will alert them of any danger.” The Prince gave a small bow and deployed an elevated platform, which expanded and hovered. It then expanded slightly more as if it was taking a breath and opened at one end, exposing a small but comfortable chamber where the Prince climbed in. Natal and Maxuun had already deployed similar sleeping pods.
The three friends and Phlip went back to the ship where they had a small bunk room. It was uneven as the ship was merely sitting on the jungle floor, without any sort of landing gear deployed, but it would work for the night. The beds were surprisingly comfortable for their modest appearance. Phlip found a spot on one of the bottom bunks, and Mari climbed atop. Greg and Jerro took a set of bunks just on the other side of the tight space. Two empty bunks lined the back wall, which curved slightly as it flowed into the ceiling.
Rest cycle initiated. Lunda’s even voice flowed in and the lighting dimmed. Good night.
Jerro lay on his back, paws folded across his chest. After a moment, he spoke, not aloud. Thanks Lunda. For earlier. For… watching the angles, we couldn’t.
There was a brief pause before she responded. Of course, Jerro, that is my function. Silence followed.
Mari shifted in her bunk, the faint creak of the frame the only sign of her movement. She stared at the curved ceiling, replaying the way the battle went in her head. The way Jerro’s voice had sounded when he asked why she hadn’t listened.
Greg rolled onto his side, facing the wall. “Freedom’s louder than I thought,” he mumbled. “Hard to sleep in all that noise.”
Jerro didn’t answer.
Mari swallowed. The hum of the ship felt different now, less like momentum, more like a held breath. A welling in her throat. She closed her eyes, telling herself she’d chosen action because someone had to. Was it fear? Her thoughts shifted to the Prince’s explanation of war.
The thought unraveled before it finished. Darkness pressed in, warm and heavy. The floor seemed to tilt as something ancient took shape behind her eyes.
∞
Mari stood at the edge of a large circular open-air structure. Tall white stone columns ringed the space, their surfaces worn smooth with age.
The sky glowed amber—the sun fixed low on the horizon. Bleached steps descended from where she stood, leading down to cracked earth that stretched outward until it met a line of shadowed mountains.
Without meaning to, Mari tilted her head, her deep eyes drawn inward toward the center of the marbled temple.
The floor was segmented into radial partitions that joined at a single point, like the chronoarch pad from Station. But this surface was different—ornate. Inlaid with a mosaic that caught the light in subtle shifts. As she examined it, the pattern stopped reading like decoration. It suggested structure. Lines connected points in ways that felt intentional, branching and rejoining, looping back on themselves before breaking off again. There were no clear coastlines, no familiar borders, only regions implied by density and angle, and routes that seemed to slip through blank tiles as if the surface were marking something that didn’t quite sit in the same place as everything else.
A distant rumbling interrupted her focus.
Wind tore through the columns, kicking dust into the air as the sky darkened. Mari grabbed a nearby pillar as the ground trembled beneath her. A curtain of clouded debris advanced from every direction, swallowing the horizon.
She turned back towards the center. The floor shifted. Stone plates separated and folded inward, opening slowly into a vast black void.
Panic surged. She had only moments.
From the darkness below, something rose.
The crown of a tree emerged first. Arresting her completely. It was immense and impossibly beautiful, embodying all four seasons at once. One side stood barren and skeletal. Another overflowed with green life. Between them, buds blossomed into flowers and leaves burned into autumn color.
The trunk followed, driving deep roots into a floating mass of rock that ascended from the open floor.
Mari looked back.
The sky was gone. The storm had erased all remaining light.
Above her, the temple ceiling fractured. Stone tore apart and collapsed inward. Sand lashed her face, forcing her eyes nearly shut.
The pull returned. Stronger now.
She didn’t hesitate.
Three quick steps. A leap.
The world around her collapsed into darkness as her paw closed around a thick root extending from beneath the floating island.
The noise vanished. Silence. Stillness.
Mari hung suspended above the void, stars and celestial objects illuminating the surrounding space. The same endless expanse she had seen before. The ceiling from Station.
She felt unnaturally small. Like a single grain of sand. Yet connected to a part of something vast.
Whole.
