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> The Humans were sitting around the fire with several of their Havenworlder friends. The winds outside the shelter were howling loudly and they were still waiting for the rescue vessel to bring them the rest of the parts they needed to repair the ship enough to limp it to a spaceport for a full refit. It was a stormy night so the Humans decided to have fun and tell ghost stories. -- Anon Guest

It was a dark and stormy night. The winds howled and rattled the very temporary shelter on a small, nondescript planet just off from the major shipping lanes. They would have made it to Pinkus East if only someone patrolling the lanes hadn't been napping and missed one high-velocity paint fleck.

Space travel. It makes even the most insignificant debris into a life-threatening hazard. Alas, in high-traffic shipping lanes, the ships' micrometeor defense systems[1] had to be turned off. Smaller ships and short-hop vessels looked an awful lot like asteroid hazards to defense system AI's. Which was why there were patrols in the first place. Which _should_ have worked. One had not, and now they were here because they were here.

On a passive planet that was set aside as an emergency landing for people like the crew of the _Therinbak_. All they had to do was wait for a patch kit and a tow back up into space, and they could resume their travels. This, of course, meant that the Humans were already bored. The one with the guitar had run out of songs to show off with[2], the one with the card tricks was still trying to work out what had gone wrong with the last one, and one of the Humans was sitting upside-down. Always a bad sign.

"This is the perfect setting for a ghost story," said the upside-down Human. "Howling winds, dark and dismal night. A shipwreck in the middle of nowhere..."

"Nal... no... There's _Havenworlder's_ present." Human Dris chided Nal.

"All right," they sighed. "We won't do the Screaming Skeek[3]. Just a little bit of light horror. It's only a story."

"A _real_ story," quoted Human Pod, adjusting her guitar.

"No," Human Dris barked, adding hir finger into the debate. "We do not have a Havenworlder resuscitation system."

"What about Edgar Allan Poe?" Nal pouted, crossing their feet. "_The Raven_ is tame beans. All buildup and no payoff."

Dris checked hir datareader. "I'm looking it up. These little fluffy birds of ours need cautions for sure."

"Our adrenaline is currently more than adequate," said Parid Gorx. "This environment is sufficient threat."

Human Nal groaned. "I never get to have any fun."

"We will _have_ fun when we _get_ to Pinkus East. The little fluffy Paridae can head off to their safe zone, and _you_ have all the rollercoasters you can eat."

"Is _this_ your card?" said Human Ren.

"They are all _your_ cards," answered Parid Lee. "I do not understand."

It was going to be a _long_ four hours.

[1] Colloquially known as the Hungry Caterpillar.

[2] One of them is always about a wondrous wall.

[3] It's a slow-burn jumpscare in which the rest of the arseholes creep off one by one to jump out at the end of the story and make an unsuspecting victim soil themselves.

[Image <a href="https://www.canstockphoto.com">(c) Can Stock Photo / semmickphoto</a>]

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