The Lucky Star space station shimmered, a glittering jewel against the inky backdrop of space. Inside, the air buzzed with the chaotic energy of a high-stakes poker game. Around a chrome table inlaid with glowing nebulae, sat Captain Zero, his usual swagger replaced by a nervous twitch; Veeva, her usually sharp eyes narrowed in concentration; Sparks, fiddling with a deck of cards that seemed to multiply in his hands; Luna, calmly sipping a drink that glowed an alarming shade of purple; and Grizzle, whose grunts of frustration were almost as loud as the station’s background hum.

  Opposite them, Lord Krixis, a being whose reptilian skin shimmered with an oily sheen, leaned back, a cruel smile playing on his lips. His claws tapped a rhythm on the table, a countdown to their impending doom.

  “Fold,” Zero mumbled, tossing his cards face down with a clumsy flick of his wrist. The cards scattered slightly, a small mishap that seemed to mirror his current state of mind.

  Krixis chuckled, a sound like grinding gears. “Not so lucky this time, Captain. Looks like you've lost the SS Obselete.”

  Zero groaned. He hadn’t even noticed his ship, the SS Obselete, was the wager. It had just seemed like a good idea at the time. "But... but it's my ship!" he protested weakly. His voice, usually booming with faux confidence, was thin and reedy.

  “Indeed,” Krixis purred. “And as you are now officially in debt, I propose a solution. Enter the Nebular Death Rally.”

  Veeva’s eyes widened. “The *what*?”

  Sparks whistled. "That's insane, Zero! Vortag the Unkillable is always in that!"

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  Luna simply stared at Zero, her purple drink forgotten. Grizzle grunted something that sounded suspiciously like a death rattle.

  “It's a race across the nebula, Captain,” Krixis explained, his voice dripping with malicious glee. “A test of skill… and survival. Win, and your ship is yours again. Lose, and well…” He let the threat hang unspoken.

  Zero swallowed hard. The Nebular Death Rally was infamous. A suicidal race through a swirling maelstrom of asteroids, space pirates, and cosmic anomalies. Even the thought made his stomach churn. He glanced at his trusty co-pilot, Veeva, hoping she'd have a miracle solution, but even her usually unflappable face showed concern.

  “I… uh…” Zero stammered, his bravado completely gone. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing he hadn’t eaten so many space-cakes before the game. The sugar rush was wearing off badly.

  Zeno-9000, the ship’s AI, a metallic orb with glowing blue optics, whirred to life. “Calculating… calculating… odds of survival in the Nebular Death Rally… 0.0027%... adjusting for Captain Zero's past performance… 0.000001%.” The final percentage was delivered in a flat, emotionless tone.

  A collective groan echoed around the table. Even Krixis seemed a little taken aback.

  “Well, Captain?” Krixis prompted, a glint of amusement in his reptilian eyes. “What’s your answer?”

  Zero’s eyes darted around the room. His crew was staring at him expectantly, but there was a clear lack of belief in their eyes. He thought about the SS Obselete, his beloved, albeit slightly dilapidated, starship. He thought about the prospect of facing Vortag the Unkillable, and Garnak the Great, and Draxar the Destroyer, all notorious racers in the Death Rally. He thought about the odds, the minuscule, almost laughable odds of survival.

  “Fine,” Zero mumbled, forcing a semblance of bravado into his voice. “I’ll do it.” He added under his breath, "But I'm finding a way out of this mess later."

  The other members of the crew exchanged glances. Their respect for the captain, never exactly sky high, seemed to plummet to zero.

  “Great!” Krixis exclaimed, clapping his scaled hands together. “Then preparations begin immediately. I've already arranged for you to meet Captain Miran, your assigned navigator. She's... unique." Krixis smiled thinly. “And you'll be sharing a hangar with the equally unique Blip and Blop… they’re quite the... characters.”

  Zero felt a tremor of dread. This was a bad decision, a really, really bad decision. But it was his decision, and he was stuck with it. At least he had his trusty crew to rely on – even if they were currently debating the merits of mutiny. He could already see it coming. As they filed out of the poker room, his mind was racing with a plan, yet he had absolutely no clue what he was going to do. All he knew was that the Nebular Death Rally was about to become his biggest nightmare, and his crew's next adventure.