Star-Captain of the Crimson Crumb..Part ll (Treasury of Nebula-9)

The plasmadic waves of the falling star rippled beneath the hull of the Crimson Crumb like liquid neon, casting a violent purple glow across Cap’n Squeaky’s whiskers. Squeaky—a space-faring rodent of exceptional grit and questionable hygiene—gripped the steering wheel with his tiny, leather-gloved paws. "Keep her steady, boys!" Squeaky squeaked, though his crew consisted entirely of a broken navigation droid and a half-eaten space biscuit. Suddenly, the plasmadic sea went dead silent. The crackling energy of the star flattened into a mirror-like sheen. The ship groaned, trapped in a sudden, invisible gravity well. Rising from the shimmering plasma was the Multi-Cerebral Entity. It didn't have a face, or a hull, or a sail. It was a massive, floating cluster of translucent, glowing brains, pulsing in perfect, terrifying harmony. Lightning-fast synapses fired between the lobes, illuminating the dark vacuum of space like a localized thunderstorm. When it spoke, the voice didn't hit Squeaky’s ears; it echoed directly inside his tiny skull, vibrating his teeth. "WHO SKIMS THE COGNITIVE REFUGE OF THE DYING COSMOS?" the Entity demanded, its multi-layered voice sounding like a choir of angry librarians. "WE ARE THE COLLECTIVE THOUGHT. WE ARE THE SUM OF THE FORGOTTEN. WHAT SEEK YOU, LITTLE FLESH-THING?" Squeaky puffed out his chest, adjusting his tiny tricorn hat. He was terrified, but a captain never showed fear, especially not to an oversized bucket of cosmic grey matter. "I am Cap’n Squeaky!" he shouted back, waving a miniature cutlass toward the entity. "Terror of the Orion Belt! And I’m skimming these waves because they lead straight to the Treasury of Nebula-9! You’re blocking my highway, mate!"