Year 25 Day 87
Sarrish System, Vensensor Sector
The gas giant Sarrish IV hung like a bloated pearl in the cosmic sea—a world of swirling tempests and churning mists. Its atmosphere, thick with hydrogen and helium, concealed secrets that defied the grasp of mortal minds. But it was the Purrgil—the enigmatic space-faring creatures—that held dominion over this turbulent realm.
The eXiles Corporation, driven by profit and ambition, had set its sights on Sarrish IV. Their mandate: to transform the gas giant into a thriving hub of commerce, a beacon of prosperity for the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Affordable housing complexes were to rise from the stormy depths, offering refuge to the displaced and the hopeful.
Yet, the Purrgil had other plans.
Construction Site Alpha, perched on a floating platform above the roiling cloud layers, buzzed with activity. Engineers in pressure suits scurried like ants, welding girders and laying foundations. The eXiles Corporation had spared no expense—their vision of a utopian cityscape was grandiose. But the Purrgil had their own designs.
Captain Elara Voss, a no-nonsense woman with a cybernetic eye, oversaw the clearing project. Her gaze often drifted skyward, where the Purrgil danced—a ballet of colossal forms, their bioluminescent trails painting the heavens. She had heard the whispers—the ancient tales of the Purrgil’s migratory patterns. They rode the cosmic currents, traversing star systems, their purpose inscrutable. She had taken down countless bandit parties and beasts in her time leading the ground forces, but this was different.
Chief Overseer Thal Korr, a portly bureaucrat with a penchant for fine cigars, fretted in his office. His holographic desk displayed charts and projections, but the numbers blurred. The Purrgil had delayed the construction for months. Affordable housing units remained skeletal frames, buffeted by gales. The local leaders were irate—their constituents crammed into makeshift shelters, their dreams deferred.
“Captain Voss,” Overseer Korr wheezed, “we need results. The Confederacy expects progress.”
Elara adjusted her pressure suit collar. “Sir, the Purrgil—”
“—are a nuisance!” Korr interrupted. “We’ve dealt with worse. Why can’t we eradicate them? I don’t recall hearing any complaints on Sarris V from the Matukai Dragons! They had that planet cleared in near record time and are making us look bad!”
“Because,” Elara said, trying to express the mixed feelings currently gripping her , “they’re sentient beings. Guardians of cosmic knowledge. They go where they please, and Sarrish IV is their sacred ground.”
Chief Overseer Korr dismissed her cries with a wave, pressing a button on his datapad that connected him with the construction teams.
Construction Site Beta, nestled in a canyon of sulfuric clouds, faced the brunt of the infestation. Foreman Jax, a grizzled veteran with a cybernetic arm, cursed the Purrgil. Not only was their presence hindering the creation of cities, but also pushing his team on the brink as they tried to make deadlines. His workers vanished—swallowed by the nebulous tide. The eXiles Corporation’s profits dwindled, and the Confederacy’s patience wore thin. His datapad screamed at him for a progress report. Looking up at the large massive, mysterious creatures, their colossal forms floated in the upper strata, their bioluminescence casting eerie glows as they intermingled with a clustering of Streaked Velker, he wondered when this project would ever end.
Back on the open platform, as her team readied its next operation against the infestation, as the suns dipped below the horizon, Elara stood on the platform’s edge. Above, The gas giant’s upper atmosphere bore witness to the carnage—a celestial graveyard of skeletal remains.
Suddenly, the Purrgil approached—a pod of spectral giants. Their eyes, like galaxies, held ancient wisdom. They hummed—a cosmic lament.
“Why?” Elara whispered.
The Purrgil’s song echoed—a requiem for lost worlds. They spiraled upward, their bioluminescence illuminating the half-built structures. And then, they vanished—into the heart of Sarrish IV.
Chief Overseer Thal Korr glared at the holoscreen. The progress report mocked him—a litany of delays, setbacks, and the haunting word: Purrgil. His office aboard the Stardancer smelled of bureaucracy and desperation.
“Cursed creatures!” he bellowed, slamming his meaty fist onto the polished desk. The cigar, once smoldering, spiraled into the air like a lost starship. “30 Purrgils and 28 Velkers so far… We’ve mined the orbit, erected force fields, and invoked every algorithm known to the Confederacy. Yet still, they come!”
How would he explain to his superiors that, on this day, the mighty eXiles were being out maneuvered by creatures.