A storm of shattered stars and drifting nebular mist hung outside the cockpit windows like the aftermath of a cosmic fistfight. The Fogrunner drifted through it, engines on low burn, cloaked in the pale blue glow of stealth mode.
Inside, Julian Fog sat hunched in the pilot’s chair, eyes narrowed, tapping his fingers on the console in an erratic rhythm that mostly resembled nerves disguised as swagger.
Nikara stood behind him with arms crossed, her reflection a sharp silhouette in the star-glass.
Z1N knelt on the floor in full contemplative meditation pose, plasma katana resting across his lap.
A faint hum pulsed through the deck plates, Mollie idling in diagnostic mode, low and irritated.
JULIAN (quietly, to himself): “He better still be alive.”
NIKARA: “And he better still like you. Or we’re dead in about, oh… ten minutes?”
JULIAN (scoffs): “Please. We served together. Bled together. Once got drunk together and tried to fight a gravity well.”
Nikara blinked.
NIKARA: “…What does that even mean?”
JULIAN: “It means Marines are idiots with trust issues.”
Z1N: “As are samurai.”
Julian didn’t turn. He felt the weight of it, old memories, old debts, and the fact that somewhere out there was the one man he trusted, back before he learned not to trust anyone.
Nikara softened just slightly as she watched Julian’s face.
NIKARA: “Look… whatever this is? We’ll handle it. I’m with you.”
Julian looked up, surprised. A real moment, something rare for both of them.
JULIAN: “Yeah? Even if my buddy turned into a lunatic mercenary warlord?”
NIKARA: “Especially then.”
Z1N: “Captain, I sense romance blooming. Should I fetch incense?”
Both: “NO.”
MOLLIE (dry, over speakers): “Julian… incoming long-range sensor ping. It appears your friend found us first.”
The view shifted as Mollie displayed the approaching vessels.
Nikara tensed.
What emerged from the nebular fog were warships, long, jagged, retrofitted with illegal weaponry. Reactor horns glowing like demonic halos. Gunmetal hulls marked with a sigil: two vertical stripes crossed by a broken star.
Julian swallowed.
JULIAN: “…Ah. Yep. That’s the symbol of the Golgothain Warborn. My old squadmate’s new ‘family.’”
NIKARA: “Your friend joined them? That’s not a mercenary fleet, Julian. That’s a cult with plasma cannons.”
JULIAN: “He’s a good guy. Mostly. Probably. Hopefully.”
MOLLIE: “Statistically unlikely.”
A transmission clicked through. A deep voice rolled across the cockpit like thunder through a steel cavern.
VOICE (over comm): “Fog… is that you, you reckless son of a plasma rat?”
Julian let out a slow breath.
JULIAN: “Tanto. It’s been a long time.”
The warfleet parted like giant mechanical beasts making way for a smaller ship, matte black, sleek, adorned with a single blazing scarlet stripe.
Tanto-3’s personal fighter.
He had arrived.
TANTO-3
The docking clamps clanged into place as Julian, Nikara, and Z1N walked down the Fogrunner’s ramp onto the landing bay of the Warborn flagship.
Metal. Heat. The smell of grease, scorched plating, and discipline. Marines who had left the Corps but kept the ethos. Soldiers who fought for credits and vendettas instead of governments.
Julian kept his shoulders back.
He wasn’t afraid.
Just… respectfully aware these men could break him in half.
A heavy footfall echoed.
And then the man himself appeared, massive, bald, cybernetic implants glowing faintly, wearing a long black coat that screamed “ex-military, current nightmare.”
Tanto-3 grinned.
TANTO-3: “Fog! You beautiful disaster!”
He grabbed Julian in a crushing bear hug. Bones audibly popped.
JULIAN (strangled): “Still… crushing… spines… I see…”
Tanto laughed and set him down.
TANTO-3: “You still owe me a beer.”
Julian nodded toward Nikara.
JULIAN: “Tanto, this is Nikara. Assassin. Occasional voice of reason. My date.”
Nikara raised a hand.
Tanto’s eyebrows arched.
TANTO-3: “You? Have a date? In public?”
NIKARA: “I know. I regret it daily.”
Z1N bowed dramatically.
Z1N: “I am Z1N, metal samurai, warrior-poet, seeker of honorable battles!”
Tanto stared.
TANTO-3: “Fog… you brought a malfunctioning toaster with delusions of honor.”
Z1N: “BONZAI!”
A drone in the corner exploded.
Tanto didn’t blink.
TANTO-3: “Yep. Definitely your crew.”
THE ROGUE FLEET
Tanto led them down a long corridor lined with banners of fallen Marines. No governments. No orders. Just rogue soldiers carving out survival in a lawless sector.
TANTO-3: “Fog, not gonna lie, seeing you here? Weird.”
JULIAN: “I needed a safe place to regroup. And maybe a favor.”
Tanto laughed bitterly.
TANTO-3: “Favor? Brother… nobody’s safe from what you dragged in.”
Nikara and Julian exchanged a look.
JULIAN: “You know?”
TANTO-3: “The Galactic Council kill-order? Yeah. Whole quadrant knows. Someone’s putting serious resources into hunting you.”
Julian paled.
TANTO-3 (lowering voice): “Fog… You need to stop running. There’s more going on. More than bounty hunters. More than Larkon.”
JULIAN: “What do you mean?”
Before Tanto could answer, alarms blared.
“INTRUDER ALERT. INTRUDER ALERT.”
TANTO-3: “Oh frazz me sideways. Fog, follow me!”
THE IRON FUNERAL
They sprinted into a massive hangar, where Marines in black armor circled around a coffin-like steel pod engraved with names and unit numbers.
Nikara whispered:
NIKARA: “Julian… this is a funeral.”
But it wasn’t like any funeral she’d seen.
The pod was mounted on a towering mech.
A funeral mech.
A walking monument of war to carry a fallen Marine to a plasma burial.
Z1N gasped.
Z1N: “A sacred warrior rite. Beautiful. Violent. Perfect.”
The crowd parted.
Tanto stepped forward.
His face hardened.
TANTO-3: “Fog… the intruder we detected, it’s not a spy.”
He pressed a button.
The coffin slid open.
Inside lay a Marine, chest torn open, face pale, clutching a strange metallic shard in his hand.
Julian felt the breath leave him.
JULIAN (whispering): “That’s… Lieutenant Marrin. He saved my life twice.”
Tanto nodded grimly.
TANTO-3: “He came back from a recon run with this.”
He handed Julian the shard.
It shimmered, etched with strange runes, pulsing with dark energy.
NIKARA: “What is that?”
TANTO-3: “We don’t know. But Marrin said one word before he died.”
He looked Julian dead in the eye.
TANTO-3: “He said your name.”
Silence.
Julian stared at the shard.
It felt cold. Too cold.
MOLLIE (over handheld comm): “Julian… I am detecting a resonance. Dark energy. Non-Euclidean tech. This is… Galactic Council black-ops grade.”
NIKARA: “Why would the Council mark your friend?”
Julian swallowed hard.
JULIAN: “Because Marrin was tracking someone. Someone dangerous.”
TANTO-3: “Marines talk, Fog. Rumors everywhere. Word is the Council’s working on something called HARROWSTAR.”
Z1N gasped.
Z1N: “Ancient texts speak of such a weapon. The Harrowstar consumes stars and—”
Tanto blinked.
TANTO-3: “Why is the toaster talking about star-eating weapons?”
JULIAN: “He reads a lot.”
NIKARA: “Julian… if the Council really is developing a weapon like that—”
TANTO-3: “And if Marrin died bringing you that shard—”
JULIAN: “…then Harrowstar is connected to me?”
Silence fell across the hangar.
Then—
A BOOM shook the entire flagship.
Marines scattered.
TANTO-3: “WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”
Julian’s comm crackled.
MOLLIE: “Julian, incoming ship signatures. You’re not going to believe this.”
NIKARA: “Council kill-team?”
MOLLIE: “…worse.”
A massive, tusked dropship thundered through the hangar doors, smashing aside drones.
Painted across its hull in bold red letters:
THE IRON HOOVES OF NEBULON-4
Julian groaned.
JULIAN: “Oh come ON!”
THE HOOVES RETURN
The dropship bay doors blew open, and a familiar voice bellowed:
TROTTER (roaring): “FOG! YOU HONORED BOAR! WE COME TO REPAY OUR DEBT! CLOAKED KILL TEAM HAS BOARDED YOUR STARBOATD SIDE!”
One hundred armored pig soldiers stormed out, firing into the shadows.
A massive roar echoed.
From the other side of the hangar, Council kill-team soldiers burst in, visors glowing blood-red.
Julian sighed.
JULIAN: “Tanto… allow me to introduce the Nebulonian swine army. They’re on our side. Mostly.”
TANTO-3 stared.
TANTO-3: “…Fog, I swear to every star in the sky, you attract war like flies attract dead things.”
Z1N ignited his plasma katana.
Z1N: “Then let us die with honor!”
Julian grabbed his blasters.
JULIAN: “We’re not dying, Zin!”
NIKARA (cocking pistol): “Not before our second date, anyway.”
Tanto slammed a fist into his palm.
TANTO-3: “Warborn! FORM UP!”
Pigs squealed.
Marines roared.
Council killers charged.
And Julian Fog, idiot, pilot, chaos gremlin, grinned like a man born for this exact disaster.
JULIAN: “Frazz it… let’s dance!”
THE BATTLE FOR THE DEAD
Chaos exploded.
Pigs stormed the kill-team in perfect tactical formations.
Marines flanked them with pulse rifles.
Julian leaped onto a cargo crate, firing down at armored soldiers.
Nikara fought beside Trotter, slicing throats and kicking troopers off ledges.
Z1N performed a spinning airborne kata that accomplished absolutely nothing except looking spectacular.
Z1N: “Observe my form!”
Julian kicked a kill-team soldier off the funeral mech.
JULIAN: “Very honorable, Zin! Now maybe do something lethal!”
A Council trooper locked onto Julian.
He dove, rolled, slid beneath a hovering skiff, popped up behind the trooper—
JULIAN: “Surprise!”
—and blasted him point blank.
The funeral mech suddenly powered up, the fallen Marine pod still attached.
TANTO-3 (shouting): “They’re trying to steal the mech!”
JULIAN: “Not on my date night!”
He sprinted.
Dodged plasma bolts.
Jumped over a fallen pig warrior.
Skidded beneath a collapsing scaffolding.
He clambered up the mech’s leg plating and punched the pilot window.
Glass cracked.
Julian grabbed the fallen Marine’s coffin-latch.
JULIAN: “Sorry, buddy. I need this ride more than you.”
With a grunt, he yanked open the pod, slipped inside, and took the pilot controls.
NIKARA (shrieking): “JULIAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
JULIAN: “STEALING A MECH DURING A FUNERAL! YOU KNOW, TUESDAY!”
The mech roared to life.
He launched a rocket fist.
A kill-team soldier went flying across the bay and smashed into a stack of fuel cells, exploding in the most dramatic way possible.
Z1N cheered.
Z1N: “Captain! You are poetry!”
Julian stomped the mech’s foot down onto a Council trooper.
JULIAN: “Haiku that, pal!”
THE SHATTERING REVEAL
Amid the smoke and fire, a figure stepped into the hangar.
Tall. Cloaked. Masked.
Council sigils etched into obsidian armor.
Nikara stiffened.
NIKARA (whispering): “Julian… that’s not a kill-team soldier. That’s a Council Executor.”
Tanto froze.
TANTO-3: “The frazz is an Executor doing HERE?!”
Executor raised a hand.
A sphere of dark energy formed above the palm, swirling, unstable, like a collapsing micro-star.
Julian’s blood ran cold.
MOLLIE (panicked): “That’s Harrowstar tech. A miniature core. Julian, RUN.”
Executor’s voice echoed, metallic and terrifying.
EXECUTOR: “Julian Fog. You were meant to die quietly. Your interference accelerates the timeline.”
JULIAN: “…Accelerates what?”
EXECUTOR: “The activation of Harrowstar.”
Julian swallowed hard.
JULIAN: “…What the FRAZZ is Harrowstar?”
EXECUTOR: “The end of disorder. The cleansing of chaos. The removal of unpredictable variables like you.”
Nikara stepped in front of Julian.
NIKARA: “You want him? You go through me.”
Executor tilted his head.
EXECUTOR: “So be it.”
He launched the micro-star.
Julian grabbed Nikara and leapt from the mech as it struck.
A blinding detonation tore the mech in half, vaporizing steel.
Julian and Nikara tumbled across the deck.
Pig warriors were sent flying.
Marines were thrown against bulkheads.
Julian coughed, vision blurry.
JULIAN: “Tanto… we have to run. Now.”
Tanto nodded grimly.
TANTO-3: “Fog… I’m with you. Warborn are with you. Whatever Harrowstar is, we’re stopping it.”
Julian staggered to his feet.
JULIAN: “Mollie! Warm the engines!”
MOLLIE: “Already overheating them for dramatic effect.”
Julian grabbed Nikara’s hand.
Z1N bounded after them.
Pig warriors formed a protective wall as they sprinted to the Fogrunner.
Executor’s voice echoed behind them.
EXECUTOR: “You cannot run from inevitability, Fog.”
Julian didn’t look back.
JULIAN: “Watch me.”
The Fogrunner blasted free from the flagship, streaking into the nebular storm as kill-ships pursued.
Inside, alarms blared.
Julian strapped into the pilot seat.
Nikara dropped into co-pilot, bleeding from a cut on her cheek.
Z1N somersaulted into the weapons station.
Mollie dimmed the cabin lights.
MOLLIE: “Julian. Please tell me you did not antagonize a Council Executor.”
JULIAN: “It antagonized me first!”
NIKARA: “Fog… they used Harrowstar tech. They’re not just after your bounty.”
Julian stared into the glowing shard he had taken from Marrin’s hand.
JULIAN (quiet): “Everything’s connected. Larkon. The Council. Harrowstar. Marrin’s death.”
He tightened his grip.
JULIAN: “We’re going to find out what Harrowstar is.”
He looked back at Nikara and Z1N.
JULIAN (steady): “And we’re going to stop it.”
The Fogrunner vanished into hyperspace.
TO BE CONTINUED…
NEXT TIME ON JULIAN FOG…
Julian and the crew travel to the edge of known space in search of a forbidden archive guarded by ancient machines.
A star devours itself.
A prophecy is awakened.
A betrayal cuts deep.
And the first secret of Harrowstar is revealed…
