Emperor Doland sat atop his opulent golden throne, his brow furrowed in contemplation as he listened to the latest reports from his subordinates. A holographic display floated before him, showing a live feed of the wreckage from the recent incident at Super XTREEM Space Jail.

"So, let me get this straight," said Doland. "We found the person carrying the third missing artifact, and we threw him in prison. But then he blew up a bunch of stuff and escaped. And we still don't have the missing artifact. Is that about right?"

A hologram of Warden Kliever, the officer in charge of Super XTREEM Space Jail, bowed his head in shame. "That is correct, Your Majesty," he replied. "Unfortunately, one of the main downsides of streamlining our incarceration processes via automation is that these sorts of things can easily slip through the cracks. Still, thanks to the prison's surveillance systems, we've learned a great deal about this man."

"I see," said Emperor Doland. "Well, tell me what you've found, then. This is a mess, and I would like it to be... un-messed as soon as possible."

"Of course, sir!" Kliever exclaimed. "The prisoner in question is one Flight Lieutenant Billy Williams-Doom Jr."

"Hah! Really?" Doland laughed. "That's the dumbest name I've ever heard!"

"Yes, sir, it is a terrible name," agreed Kliever. "But he used to be one of ours. He was a troop transport pilot during the war, at least until he deserted and made off to parts unknown with his ship. Apparently, he's spent the last few years hiding out on Hogwash, doing odd jobs and such. His associates know him as 'Spaceman.'"

"Great, so we've got multiple reasons to fire him out of a cannon and into the nearest star," Doland grumbled. "But what about the artifact? Do we know how he got his hands on it?"

"Well, this is going to sound very strange, sir," Kliever began, "but we believe he somehow absorbed the artifact into his body. We pulled the security footage from the wreck of the ISS Salazar, and well... it's probably easiest if I just show it to you."

Doland watched in silence as the holographic display showed footage of this 'Spaceman' character touching the Spooky Box that the ISS Salazar had been transporting to Mega Earth. The artifact glowed with a bright golden light before vanishing in a flash and leaving Spaceman unconscious on the ground. "Okay, yeah, that is weird," Doland admitted. "We're gonna need a space magic expert on this one."

"A space magic expert, sir?" asked Kliever.

"Don't worry about it, Krieger," Doland replied. "I know a guy or two, so I'll take it from here. And don't worry about the prison exploding. I actually made a bunch of SpaceBucks off of it from the insurance claim. I mean, I'm still gonna dock your pay because you messed up, but no surprise space walks or cannons shooting you into the sun or anything."

Kliever breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said. "You are most merciful."

"Yeah, I know," Doland agreed. "I'm a great guy. That's what everyone says. Now get lost."

As Kliever's hologram vanished, Doland whipped out his commlink and dialed his secretary, Lynnette. "Leeann, it's Daddy Doland," he said. "Have someone space that Warden Kringle guy and then fire his frozen corpse out of a cannon into the sun."

Lynnette sighed. "Do you mean Warden Kliever, your Majesty?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Doland replied. "And don't sass me, Lucy, or I'll fire you out of a cannon too."

"With all due respect, your Majesty, if you do that, then who will take your calls?" Lynnette asked. "Or schedule your appointments? Or pick up your dry cleaning? Or send your lunch orders to the kitchen?"

Doland paused, considering this. "Huh. That's actually a pretty good point," he mused. "You win this round, Lainey."

"That's what I thought," said Lynette. "Now, was there anything else you needed, your Majesty?"

"Oh yeah, are those morally dubious mercenaries here yet?" Doland asked. "The ones who are morally dubious enough to murder people but not so morally dubious that they might betray me or ask too many questions?"

"Yes, sir, they've been waiting here for the past three hours, and they don't look very happy about that," said Lynnette. "I'll send them in."

"Perfect, thanks," said Doland. "Daddy Doland, out."

The door slid open, and a small mob of mercenaries, bounty hunters, and other ne'er-do-wells marched into the throne room. At the front of the pack was a brawny, green-scaled saurian wearing a battle-worn suit of armor and carrying a blaster rifle at his hip. He was followed closely by a slender, four-armed automechanical with a blaster pistol mounted on each arm, a pair of black-feathered matari in raggedy leather armor, a humanoid with a mechanical body and a face that resembled an ancient gas mask, and a masked woman with long blonde hair and hot pink attire.

Emperor Doland clapped his hands together as the mercenaries assembled before him. "Hello, hello, welcome!" he said, flashing them a pearly-white smile. "Lizard guy, good to see you. Robotman, you're looking menacing, as usual. Crow twins, huge fan of your work. Robert Fetterman, always a pleasure to have you." His eyes lingered for a few moments on the woman in pink. "You there, lady. I don't think you've worked for us before."

The woman in pink carefully removed her mask, revealing a pretty face decorated with impeccably applied makeup. "Oh my gosh, like, this is so, like, totally embarrassing," she giggled. "My name is Lorelei, but my friends call me 'Lorelei.' I'm, like, Eugene's space warlock apprentice, and he, like, totally ordered me to come help you with your little missing artifact problem. But don't worry. I've, like, literally been studying under him for, like, so long and junk that my connection to the Bogus Side is crazy powerful. And I got this super chic energy blade." She drew her weapon and activated it, revealing its pink blade as she gave a few quick flourishes. "It's pink!"

Emperor Doland blinked at the young space warlock in disbelief as she haphazardly swished her energy blade through the air, but he quickly composed himself. "Well, uh, if Eugene sent you, then I'm sure you're more than capable," he said. "So, here's the deal: You guys are going to help our soldiers recover the three remaining Spooky Boxes. We've tracked down two of them; one of them is on Nimbus-6, a privately owned gas mining colony, while the other is on Renegade's Hollow, a haven for pirates, smugglers, and mercenaries that make you all look like upstanding citizens. As for the third, we're not able to track it, but we know it's in the possession of an ex-Imperial Pilot named Billy Williams-Doom Jr., also known as 'Spaceman.' Until we figure out how he's hiding the third artifact, we need him brought in alive. Any questions?"

"So, no disintegrations?" asked the mechanical man with the gas mask.

"NO, ROBERT FETTERMAN, NO DISINTEGRATIONS!" shouted Doland. "I'm tired of telling you this, man! You're a frickin' bounty hunter!"

"Understood," said Fetterman, nodding slowly. "No disintegrations."

The saurian raised his hand. "When do we start?" he asked.

"Immediately," replied Doland. "We'll pay triple your usual fee, with a third up front and the rest once the job is complete. Now get going."

Without another word, the mercenaries turned and left the throne room, with the exception of Lorelei, who lingered behind. "Um, excuse me, mister Emperor, sir," she asked. "Why haven't you, like, told Eugene about the third artifact? I'm sure he'd be, like, totally interested to know about how this 'Spaceman' guy absorbed its power."

Doland made a face at the space warlock and shook his head. "Because I just found out about that like ten minutes ago, idiot," he replied. "And how'd you know about that anyway? That was a private, top-secret call for important people only. Not weird space warlocks who wear too much pink."

"First off, never insult the threads," said Lorelei, wagging a finger at the Emperor. "Second, I totally, like, read your mind with my mystical powers. The thoughts of a weak-minded fool are, like, easier to read than an open book."

"Okay, that is super weird and unsettling," Doland replied. "Don't read my thoughts anymore, or else."

The woman in pink slowly approached the Emperor's throne, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Or else what?" she asked, leaning in close. "Even if you could hurt me, what do you think Eugene would say if he found out?"

Doland shrank back in his seat. "Fine, whatever," he grumbled. "Just go away; you're really starting to weird me out. I was just about to give Eugene a buzz anyway. I need his space magic know-how on this."

Lorelei giggled, and she pulled on her mask. "See ya later, your Majesty," she said as she turned to leave. "I'll be sure to give Eugene your regards."

As the space warlock apprentice departed, Emperor Doland wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "What a creep," he muttered to himself. "Ugh. I'm gonna need a shower after that one..."

* * *

Katarina let out a sigh of relief as her cobbled-together ship survived its second Origami Drive fold. The remote jungle world of Tangle was a green speck in the distance, growing steadily larger as the ship drew closer. "Well, we didn't explode," she said. "Looks like the drive held out."

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"Would have been a huge bummer to escape from prison only to get blown to bits," Bedlam remarked. "Feels damn good to be a non-exploded free man."

Jukkau let out a squawk of triumph as he guided the ship toward the planet. "" he said. ""

"Yeah, yeah, thanks," Katarina grumbled. "Just worry about landing this heap. Make sure you set her down somewhere off the beaten path."

Rylee stood up from her jump seat and approached Katarina in the co-pilot's chair. "Actually, we have a landing pad at our enclave," she said. "I can guide you there directly if you would like."

Katarina shot the dark-haired mystic a sideways glare. "I thought this was some secret order of mystics and scholars," she replied. "What's the point in being all secretive if you've got a frickin' landing pad?"

"Oh, well, Amicron still delivers out here," Rylee explained. "Even we mystics require material goods from time to time."

Spaceman perked up at the mention of one of the galaxy's largest megacorporations. "Oh man, you guys get Amicron deliveries out here?" he asked. "That must be super expensive. I got a cheese grater sent to Hogwash once, and it cost me about 80 SpaceBucks just for the shipping. But I got a free SpaceBucks Deluxe Latte with it, which was nice."

"Wait, you ordered a cheese grater?" Katarina said. "Why?"

"Because I love cheese!" said Spaceman. "Duh."

Katarina shook her head. "Right. Not sure what else I was expecting," she said. "Rylee, where's this landing pad?"

Rylee stepped up to Katarina's console and began tapping at its touchscreen. "Here, let me punch in the coordinates," she said. "You should see a big, hollowed-out mountain once you are close enough."

As it entered the atmosphere, the ship began to rumble, and flames danced across its outer hull for several minutes. When the tremors subsided, and the flames vanished, the ship descended into the misty skies of Tangle. A dense jungle divided by countless rivers and streams sprawled across the ground below, stretching well beyond the horizon.

Spaceman stood up from his jump seat and gazed through the cockpit windows at the lush, verdant planet below. "Man, it feels like it's been forever since I've seen this much green in one place," he said. "What about you, Kat?"

A flash of anger momentarily crossed Katarina's face as her mind was filled with memories of a childhood spent toiling away on the family farm alongside her six siblings. "Reminds me too much of home," she grumbled. "And not in a good way."

As the ship drew closer to Rylee's coordinates, a ridge of jagged mountains appeared in the distance. Near the center of the peaks was a large, hollowed-out cliff that hid the landing pad from view. Jukkau deftly piloted the ship through the narrow opening and set down on the landing pad with a thud. "" Jukkau squawked. ""

Katarina looked at him and shrugged. "I dunno, I guess we wait and see if these Knights of the True Way are really not a weirdo space magic cult?" she replied.

A flustered Rylee shot a glare at the mechanic but decided that chastising everyone for repeatedly calling her people a cult was probably a waste of time and energy. "I will take Spaceman to see Theolman," she said. "The rest of you are free to move about the enclave if you would like. You will find a variety of amenities here, including a library, a workshop, and a mess hall."

Bedlam stood up and stretched his cybernetic arms. "Well, I gotta take a leak," he announced. "Maybe grab some decent chow for once, too."

Katarina unbuckled herself from the pilot's seat. "Yeah, I could probably eat," she agreed. "And I'd also like to take a look around this alleged workshop. See what sorta tools they've got. Jukkau, stay with the ship. We'll probably want to get off this rock sooner rather than later, so keep her ready to fly."

The matari pilot gave her a salute and squawked in affirmation. ""

The group made their way to the ship's boarding ramp, and Katarina mashed a big red button to open it. A gust of cool, damp air rushed in, carrying the scent of earth, wood, and vegetation. Rylee led the way down the ramp and out of the landing pad, with Spaceman, Katarina, and Bedlam close behind.

Outside, they were met by three figures in gray hooded robes. Rylee stepped forward to meet the tallest one, who pulled back his hood to reveal a middle-aged man with a bald head, a well-groomed beard, and pointed ears. An alvanian. He looked to Spaceman and quickly sized him up. "Is this the one Theolman seeks?" he asked.

Spaceman stared blankly at the alvanian, though his expression was hidden behind his helmet. "Uh... I guess?" he shrugged. "Sorry, I kinda lost track of what's going on. You guys think I'm some sorta messiah or something?"

Rylee buried her face in her palm. "For the last time, no, we do not think that you are the messiah," she groaned. "Theolman's visions have told us that your fate is tied to that of seven ancient artifacts of terrible power, which, if misused, could bring about a terrible calamity."

"I dunno, lady, preventing calamity sounds pretty messiah-like to me, but hey, you're the boss of all this mystical prophecy junk, I guess," said Spaceman. "So, is one of these guys Theolman, or what?"

Rylee gestured to the robed man she had been speaking to. "No, this is my master, Alwin," she explained. "This was my first time venturing off-world on my own, and he was understandably concerned, given the, erm... delicate nature of my mission. So he came to greet us."

Alwin nodded. "I must admit, I did have my doubts, but you did well," he said, placing a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "You should be proud."

Rylee smiled. "Thank you, master," she replied. "But I would not have succeeded without the help of my new companions here."

"I see," said Alwin, scanning the motley crew. "Thank you for bringing Rylee home safely. She is a valued member of our order. We would be... remiss to lose her."

"Yeah, I guess she's not so bad for a weirdo space magic cultist," said Katarina.

"Ma'am, we are no cult," said Alwin, "we are—"

"Do not waste your breath on them, master," Rylee interrupted, glowering at Katarina. "I have explained many times that we are not a cult, but it would seem my words continue to fall upon deaf ears."

"Well, in any case, I shall not keep you any longer," Alwin said. "I will leave you to your business. Please do not keep Theolman waiting."

As Alwin and his entourage dispersed, Katarina and Bedlam split off to find the mess hall, leaving Spaceman alone with Rylee. "Follow me, Spaceman," she said. "Theolman awaits; he has been eager to meet you."

Spaceman followed Rylee deeper into the enclave, passing between a series of stone and wood structures that rested among the forested mountains. The enclave was bustling with activity; mystics and scholars went about their business, all dressed in gray and brown robes that blended well with their surroundings. They walked past a pair of young mystics having a mock duel with wooden swords while another group of students practiced using space magic to levitate objects of varying sizes.

Eventually, the duo came upon a humble structure carved into a rocky hillside. Rylee pulled the curtain aside, revealing an elderly man in simple robes sitting in a meditative position in the center of the candle-lit chamber. "Here we are," said Rylee. "I will be outside if you require anything."

"You're not coming with?" Spaceman asked. "I was kind of expecting a more formal introduction."

"Theolman prefers privacy for these sorts of things," Rylee explained. "But do not worry, there is nothing to fear."

With a shrug, Spaceman stepped through the doorway and sat down opposite the old man, crossing his legs in what he hoped was an appropriate imitation of his posture. Up close, he could see Theolman with more clarity; despite his long gray hair and a face lined with wrinkles, his slender form was still strong and fit, and he had an odd sense of gracefulness about him. He opened his eyes slowly, revealing a pair of milk-white orbs devoid of sight.

"A blind oracle, huh?" said Spaceman. "Isn't that a little cliche?"

Theolman smiled at Spaceman's remark. "Bold words for a Space Wizard hiding out a planet in the middle of nowhere," he teased.

Spaceman chuckled. "Well, I'm technically still an apprentice," he corrected, "but fair enough. You must be Theolman?"

"I am," Theolman answered with a solemn nod. "It is good to finally meet you, Billy Williams-Doom Jr. Or do you prefer 'Spaceman?'"

"I very much prefer 'Spaceman,'" said Spaceman. "So, what's all this about? I hear there's some weird artifact business happening or something?"

"Indeed," Theolman replied. "Let me start from the beginning; long before our time in the galaxy, there was a civilization of incredible power who walked amongst the stars. We simply call them the 'Precursors.' Ancient texts suggest that they could bend the very fabric of space and time to their will, and they once even attempted to reshape reality itself. But the Precursors were ultimately a flawed people, and their ambitions led to their disappearance from our universe. Still, remnants of their civilization can be found all across the galaxy even today. Among these remnants are seven artifacts of great power that, when combined, could invite calamity to the universe, especially in the wrong hands."

"Let me guess," said Spaceman. "The Empire is gathering them to build some superweapon so they can war crime the whole galaxy?"

Theolman gave a satisfied nod. "That is the gist of the crisis at hand, yes," he replied. "The Empire has already gathered five of the artifacts, and two of the remaining three will soon be within their grasp."

"And the last one?" Spaceman asked.

"I can sense its power within you," Theolman answered, pointing a bony finger at Spaceman. "There have been... debates among our order regarding the accuracy of my visions, but I believe you are the Space Master, the chosen protector of the Precursors' artifacts. The fact that you have already absorbed the power of one of them is proof of your potential."

Spaceman let out a long sigh. "Yeah, that's what I was afraid of," he grumbled. "Look, I get that this is a huge deal and all, but I am definitely not the guy. I just wanted my friend's SpaceFlix password so I could watch some decent TV for once. But then I touched a talking box, got in a fight with some guy in my brain, woke up in jail, blew up the jail with the help of a guy who has a gun for an arm and can punch robots, and now I'm here being told the weight of the galaxy is on my shoulders? Pretty bogus day, honestly."

Theolman shook his head. "I understand that this is a heavy burden," he said. "But you are most definitely 'the guy.' You have a good heart, Spaceman. Even your companions can see that. And I know that deep down, you do not want the Empire's plans to come to fruition."

"I mean, yeah, obviously I don't want them to get away with this," Spaceman replied. "Whenever the Empire wins, it's usually a pretty terrible day for everyone else. I just think there's probably someone better qualified, you know? Like an actual Space Wizard, maybe?"

Theolman reached out and placed his hand upon Spaceman's shoulder. "Perhaps," he said. "But we do not have the luxury of waiting for someone else. The war was not kind to the Order of Space Wizards, and those who survived have scattered and gone to ground. There is no one else to stop the Empire from reaching its goal, and even if you run or try to hide, they will come for you sooner or later."

"Yeah...I know," Spaceman sighed, shaking his head. "No walking away from this one. Alright, I guess I'm in then. But if the Empire shoots me full of holes, it's your fault."

"I knew you would come around," said Theolman, smiling. "Now, we're not just going to send you back out into the stars without any assistance. The instructors here can help get you reacquainted with the mystic arts, and I am certain our workshop has some spare components for constructing an energy blade. You are still proficient in their use, I hope?"

Spaceman nodded. "Yeah, I remember a few of the forms," he replied. "Space Hampster Style was my favorite, but I am rusty as heck. I didn't have anywhere I could practice on Hogwash, and it's not like I could have just ordered a training sword from Amicron."

"They actually started selling them about a year ago," said Theolman, "but you're probably better off using ours anyway. The Amicron brand ones are... not great."

"Ugh, of course," Spaceman grumbled. "But yeah, I could definitely use some practice. Where should I start?"

"Start by getting a good night's sleep," said Theolman. "You've had a busy day, and you've been through a lot. Take some time to rest and clear your head, and then we can get started with your training in the morning."

"I won't argue with that," said Spaceman. "Thanks, Mr. Theolman."

Theolman chuckled. "You're very welcome, Spaceman."