Cody III, Chapter 2 Whiskers phased into existence inside the red dwarf, his form a silhouette of deep earthen light against the tempest of fiery plasma. He was a shadow within a storm, untouched by the searing currents that swirled around him. The sun's ancient heart beat with a somber rhythm, its pathways and corridors now laid bare to his heightened perception. With each graceful step, he wove his essence through the labyrinthine trails, tendrils splaying into the heat in search of recent passage. The science station lay deeper within, a silent sentinel amidst the chaos of fusion. Whiskers' strides carried purpose, and as he neared his destination, unease prickled at the edges of his consciousness. Something unseen tugged at the fabric of his being, whispering warnings. He paused, letting his awareness ripple outwards like a stone cast upon cosmic waters. His silent inquiry rippled back with alarming clarity—the core's temperature soared beyond natural limits for this stage of stellar life. A troubling anomaly defied expectation; it shouldn't be this hot, not here. "Unnatural," he murmured, the word dissipating unheard in the solar winds. Outward calm masked his internal turmoil, loyalty driving him to shield Tara from unseen threats. The weight of duty pressed down, but Whiskers shouldered it without falter. His concern for her safety stoked the flames of resolve within him, even as the red dwarf's fire raged on. He halted, the vibrant hues of the sun's inner anatomy shifting subtly before him. A prickle raced across his energy form, a silent alarm that set every fiber of his awareness on edge. He scanned the expanse, a sea of fiery currents that whispered secrets of ancient times and celestial mysteries. Once, long ago, his kind wandered these ancient halls, searching for the secrets of the universe. There, at the periphery of his vision—a cascade of twinkling anomalies. Micro worm-holes spiraled like a cosmic storm, an aberrant phenomenon within the red dwarf's dying heart. They blinked in and out of existence, each one a fleeting doorway to nowhere, defying the natural order of this stellar cradle. "Curious," he thought, tendrils recoiling as if touched by frost. With a steady hand, Whiskers reached into the maelstrom, his touch disrupting the flow of a worm-hole only briefly before it vanished. The pathway to the science station beckoned, its entrance tinged with an impossible shade of blue—a color that should not dwell in such a place. "Remember," he urged himself, his mind tracing back through recent moments. The shower had begun later, not upon arrival, but as he drew closer to the derelict station. Each backward step he took was measured, deliberate. The tempest of worm-holes waned, their dance slowing until calm reclaimed the space. "Connection," Whiskers concluded, the anomaly's timing too precise to be mere coincidence. His duty to Tara demanded caution, a need to unravel the mystery without exposing her to harm. With the worm-hole shower ended, stillness returned, but so did an unnerving sense that eyes unseen watched from within the sun's fiery embrace. He sensed it, almost too late, a fail-safe to ensure if he tried to leave, the maelstrom would be released regardless. Someone had tampered with the very existence of creation this orb of super-heated plasma represented. Whiskers's essence soared, his consciousness casting through the inferno, seeking the ship. It orbited, a speck against the vastness, its presence a beacon of safety. Protocol dictated a call to Fang, but instincts screamed urgency—there was no time. The danger to the vessel was immediate, palpable. With a thought, Whiskers leaped across the void, materializing on the bridge. A surge of red plasma, part of the dying star's heart, following him like a fiery shroud. Instantly, he erected a barrier, a shimmering wall of contained fury, separating him from the crew. Fang and Two-tails reacted in tandem, their own barriers snapping into existence, augmenting Whiskers's. Their green and blue glows mingled with the oppressive red, a triad of color against calamity. Whiskers recoiled from the bubble of superheated gas, leaving behind a searing heat that distorted the air. "Contain it!" Fang's voice cut through the sizzle of the atmosphere. Two-tails nodded, his form fluid as he bolstered the protective field. They worked in unison, a dance of necessity over elegance. Even shielded, the bridge's temperature rocketed, metal groaning under thermal stress. "Where are the humans?" Whisker's eyes darted around, searching for those they were sworn to protect. "Safe," Fang assured, his tone carrying the weight of the sun's core. "Three decks down, nourishing themselves." "Good." Fang's gaze lingered on Whiskers, questions burning in his emerald light. But now was not the time; survival was the priority. Energy crackled within the confined space as Whiskers, Fang, and Two-tails exerted their combined wills against the volatile plasma. It rebelled, an angry tide seeking release from its unnatural prison, but the Ara were relentless. With a heave of collective force, they hurled the fiery mass through the ship's outer membrane, expelling it into the cold void where it dissipated like a snuffed candle. The bridge, once a beacon of sleek technology, now bore the scars of their desperate act. Charred panels hung at odd angles; screens flickered erratically, coughing up fragments of data. Amidst this chaos, Whiskers' hands flew over the controls, a blur against the backdrop of destruction. Lights danced beneath his touch as he initiated a hyperspace jump, the ship lurching forward into the unknown. "Emergency bulkheads closed in time," Two-tails reported, his voice steady despite the sweat beading on her brow. He manipulated the environmental settings with deft flicks of his fingers. "The humans are safe, but it's very hot in that room. 128 degrees." A pause, the soft hum of the airlock disengaging filled the silence; the heat dissipating into space. "Okay, the temperature is 87 degrees now." He glanced at a screen, relief touching his features. "Dr. Branson is checking the kids." Fang whirled to face Whiskers. His eyes, orbs of emerald intensity, sought answers from the stoic figure before him. "You just jumped us to an unknown location," he stated, the question implicit in his tone, demanding a reason for the reckless gambit. Whiskers met Fang's gaze squarely, the gravity of the situation etched into his visage. "What happened?" Fang pressed, his voice betraying the urgency of the moment. Whiskers' essence flickered as he activated the rear cameras. A relentless surge of blue plasma bore down on the ship, tendrils reaching out like fingers of a vengeful specter. Fang's eyes widened, his emerald aura pulsating with alarm. "That sun is too young to become a Blue Dwarf," Fang said, voice tight with confusion. "What happened?" A silent breath escaped Whiskers as he processed the scene. He had witnessed many cosmic phenomena, but this was an aberration, a sinister deviation from the natural order. "It was a trap, triggered by my presence," Whiskers admitted, the weight of the revelation heavy in his tone. "Someone bombarded the sun with trillions of micro-wormholes. It set off the change." Fang's posture stiffened, his mind racing through possibilities and outcomes. He knew the resilience of their Ara-built vessel, the advanced technology that cocooned them from the hostility of space, though severally damaged. "We have survived," Fang mused aloud, his thoughts crystallizing into analysis. "But if Cody had been aboard a human ship, they would be dead." “Whoever did this didn’t know Cody had a new ship, an Ara ship. The trap was set months ago, before Cody’s birthday, when the Third Light gave him this vessel.” The implication hung between them, unspoken yet palpable. In the silence, the ship hurtled through the void, the aftershock of their narrow escape resonating through its core. Two-tail's voice cut through the tension, a beacon of realization in the dim light of the bridge. "Someone lured us here," he stated. The tone was matter-of-fact, yet beneath it lay an edge of disbelief. "We got lucky Whiskers spotted it soon enough." The ship hummed—a sound more felt than heard—as its systems realigned from the chaos of escape. Console lights flickered sporadically, casting eerie shadows on faces that had seen too much. A sudden clatter echoed down the corridor, growing louder. Cody burst onto the bridge, skidding to a halt on the scorched deck. His wide eyes took in the charred remnants of the once-pristine controls. "What did you guys do to my ship!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking with dismay. He scanned the damage, from blackened walls to the twisted shapes of seats. "My Uncle is going to kill me. I broke my birthday present on its first flight." His hands hovered over the consoles as if afraid to touch them, lest they crumble. The smell of burnt circuitry hung heavy in the air, mixing with the lingering heat that still radiated from the walls. Tara arrived on the Bridge next, only slightly more composed than Cody. She surveyed the damage, then went to the communications panel. “I’m sending a distress signal,” she said, her voice steady. “We did a blind hyperspace jump,” Fang stated. “We do not yet know where we are.” Tara glanced up at the image outside the ship. “I know where we are, I’ve been here before with my Uncle Max. This is where he has the Destiny hidden.” Cody’s eyes widened. “The Destiny actually still exists? So it’s true, the Aurora isn’t the last of the World Ships?” “Yes, I’d call Uncle Max, but I don’t know where he is right now, but you can bet he’s on the way. He has satellites all over the place here guarding the Destiny. The second we dropped out of hyperspace, he knew someone was here.”