“Hm,” I grunted, studying my newest passenger.
A four-legged alien woman in a long red coat, staring sadly out the window. Her long, curly hair fell in soft waves into her lap. Her skin was flawless. Perfect.
Definitely a Thalassi.
A far too quiet Thalassi.
I hate it when my passengers don’t talk. So I grunted at her again.
“My name is Merai Pelagi. I work as an agent for E-CSI.”
She continued staring sadly out the window.
I hadn’t expected that.
Normally, agents don’t introduce themselves that quickly. Something was off.
I reached down toward my leg.
My weapon was where it was supposed to be.
“I don’t want to arrest you. I have no interest in jeopardizing my deal with L’Lony.”
I put my hand back on the steering wheel. A little more relaxed.
Just a little.
“So what do you want?”
For the first time, she looked forward, and I saw in the mirror that she’d been crying.
“I’m not sure anymore whether I really want this.”
Her gaze returned to the window.
Melancholy.
Exhausting.
Horrible passengers.
“Listen, sweetheart.”
Yeah, I was trying to make myself unlikeable, and the twitch of her eyebrow told me it was working.
“I have no idea what’s going on with you. And it’s none of my business. But we’ve been flying in circles for hours. So either you give me a destination now, or I dump you at the next spaceport.”
Merai straightened up, tugged at her coat, and cleared her throat.
Now she looked like a tough E-CSI agent.
“I heard you people know things. And that you can find people.”
“Possibly. Who are we looking for?”
Her voice broke for a moment, but she pulled herself together.
“My husband. He’s missing. His name is…”
“Vick Pelagi. Vampiriasos. I know. I’ll take you to him. But I’m not sure you really want that.”
“I do. Please.”
I entered the route.
First stop: the nearest gas station.
The Quex needed refueling. We’d been flying around a planet for what felt like forever and five days.
One quick pit stop, a coffee, and a far too long conversation with a far too cheerful fish-jellyfish later, we were on our way to the “Motel Motel.”
Very creative name, right?
An old decommissioned spaceship held together only by its Quex drive core. Artificial gravity and all that.
The “Motel Motel” is the most famous, cheapest, and dirtiest dump in the entire sector.
Only junkies, dealers, whores, and people who should know better come here.
Or cheaters.
Which brings us back to our sweet little agent’s husband.
What the agent didn’t know yet was that I’d brought her husband to the “Motel Motel” a few days ago.
With another woman.
Of course, the agent wasn’t stupid, and it didn’t take long for her to recognize our destination.
And put two and two together.
Poor thing.
So I landed on the parking deck and let the agent out.
She paid and said goodbye.
Normally, I’d just fly away again.
But I decided to park and visit Stevy.
The motel owner and the artistic genius behind the magnificent name “Motel.”
An asshole.
But he has the best coffee in the entire galaxy.
And monitors that let him watch the rooms.
Yes, it’s exactly as bad as you’re thinking.
But right now, it was actually useful.
For once.
Don’t try this at home, kids!
And you too, Dieter!
Hopefully no children will ever read this…
Anyway, we watched Room 307.
And were surprised.
“Tell me, do your damn cameras not have sound?” I asked Stevy irritably.
“Of course they do. Without sound, it’s only half the fun.”
He really is a perverted asshole.
But with sound, it really is more interesting.
Our agent entered the room and screamed first.
Then her husband and the woman beside him looked up.
Before that, they’d been lying in bed asleep.
Naturally, both of them were naked.
Then the agent’s posture changed.
She wasn’t tense and angry anymore, but…
Relaxed?
Stevy and I looked at each other, wondering if she’d lost her mind.
One thing was certain.
This could only end one of two ways.
Either we’d have to call the corpse disposal service.
Yes, corpse disposal people make good money in the Eris System.
There’s more work than there are companies in the business.
Or I was about to see something I really didn’t want to see.
So the agent walked toward the bed, swaying her hips, dropped her coat, and purred something about,
“Why didn’t you just tell me that…”
and…
Yeah.
THAT was something I did not want to see.
So I quickly turned off the monitor.
Stevy looked at me, offended, and was about to say something, but I interrupted him.
“She’s E-CSI. You don’t want her discovering the camera and your little business.”
Stevy glanced briefly at the blank screen and then back at me.
“Beer?”
“I’d rather have another coffee. Yours really is the best in the entire galaxy.”
Stevy laughed, and we went into the kitchen.
I told you.
The Eris Sector is inhabited entirely by crazy people.
And me, obviously.
I’ll just file this one under:
“Unexpected Love Story.”
I’m Raven Morrigan Hawke, artist and worldbuilder creating Elyndor and the Eris System—two worlds shaped by stories, characters, mysteries, and countless little details.
Elyndor is a dark, living fantasy world of ancient secrets, strange creatures, magic, and stories that rarely go exactly as planned.
The Eris System takes those ideas somewhere else entirely: into the vastness of space, where technology, distant worlds, and new stories are waiting to be discovered.
Through art, stories, and worldbuilding, I invite you to step inside both worlds—and see what you find along the way.
