Young Writers Society

Betelgeuse sat cross-legged in the middle of an unlit, spherical cavern. A small oval doorway punctured the curved wall behind him, much too small to fit him, but he had other ways in. A gaping, jagged hole at the center of the ceiling allowed a dim stream of light to fall down around him, though it was barely anything to see by. He breathed in deeply, his ivory chest rising as his lungs flooded with air. Releasing the breath, he lowered his chin, his vast, feathered wings drooping at his back. Meditation often helped to relax him and clear his thoughts. It had worked for centuries upon centuries, but now... Something wasn't right. The galaxy wasn't right.

It had been a little over a day since the human had slipped away from him — from them; the Orion. A damn insect in comparison to himself, and it had evaded his grasp. Tracking it hadn't been a problem initially; they'd tagged every ship on the platform, just to be sure they could follow their target. But somehow it had escaped somewhere near that hospital. He should have blasted that entire platform to oblivion the moment he even whiffed the parasite there. Why did he bother looking out for the safety of the others present? Surely the sacrifice of a few hundred would have been worth it, if to wash out this final remnant of that ancient taint on the galaxy? To be rid of the last human?

But no. Betelgeuse knew that this was not, could not be the last human. It was much too young to have survived all these many years, he sensed. There must be a nest somewhere, where they'd thrived since what had been thought to have been their extinction.

And it had received help, as well. A Plutonian. An important Plutonian, by the looks of him, in comparison to the physical reports of the planet's missing heir, but all Plutonians looked the same and rumors this side of the galaxy were always nonesense.

Either way, the Plutonian didn't worry Betelgeuse. It made him angry — furious — that the human was being helped across the stars, and away from him. But he was not afraid of Pluto, their insignificant government, or any rogue member of their world who had wandered out this far to help scum. He could deal with them if the need truly arose.

Yet, a slight flickering rose in representation of the possible “bright side” of this whole matter. What with the Plutonians' notoriously ridiculous, often immature, culture, there was a chance that this renegade of theirs might just lead the human to its doom for him. But Betelgeuse wasn't content to leave that up to chance. He needed the human's destruction to be an assured matter. Though, interrogation would come first, of course. They would need to know the location of the nest, after all.

He ran a hand through his short, silvery hair distractedly, sighing as he mulled the situation over further. A few moments later, a long narrow shadow fell across Betelgeuse. He glanced up through the dim light filtering from above, still in his meditation position, at his approaching visitor.

“Sir,” Bellatrix spoke slowly, but meaningfully, as she landed gingerly before Betelgeuse. Her own wingspan was some feet shorter than his own, but it fit her smaller stature. She wore her pallid, featureless mask which gave the illusion that she had no face, and though it was a staple of the Orion, it still disconcerted Betelgeuse. A sea of milky-white hair wafted softly behind her head, floating mystically, as if she were underwater.

“What is it?” Betelgeuse asked, still sitting, his tone polite though pointed. He and Bellatrix were close, but he was still the head of the Orion and could not behave differently toward any one of his members. At least not on their sacred grounds.

“Alnilam thinks he's located the human. Or gotten close enough,” she replied.

“How close?” Betelgeuse prompted, trying to hide his slowly-lifting spirits.

“He's narrowed it down to one planet.”

“I see,” Betelgeuse said, finally rising to stand before Bellatrix. “I suppose we'll need a ship.”

“Sir?” Bellatrix asked, voice twinged with confusion as she seemed to glance at their wings — hard to tell with her mask.

“We can't much destroy a planet with these, can we, dear?” Betelgeuse smiled, pulling his own mask on.

“Of course,” Bellatrix nodded. Betelgeuse guessed that she was smiling at the plan. “I'll prepare the transport, then,” she said with a leap and a push of her wings, soaring back the way she'd come in.

Betelgeuse's concerns were vanquished for the moment. There was no way that the human and its princely chaperone could know of their arrival, and though they may manage to leave the planet before the Orion closed in, they wouldn't get far. Alnilam's pinpoint of a single planet, and its surrounding system by extension, was enough to trap the human for now. With a downward thrust of his wings, he lifted into the air of the barren cavern and followed after Bellatrix.

The Orion were fearsome, powerful, dangerous, and they were all these things as a family. Each member, seven in all, represented one of the main stars of their mother constellation, from which they took their collective title.

Betelgeuse was the leader, the hand of Orion. Rigel often served as his second-in-command, though Bellatrix was a close contender at times. Alnilam was responsible for a majority of the technical needs of the circle, and also often entertained himself with experimentation, some of which were inadvertently useful to whatever their cause happened to be at the time. The youngest two of the Orion, the twins Eta and Theta, held no specific or significant ranks themselves, and typically served in dealing with matters deemed too trivial for the higher-ups. They were foot soldiers, of sorts — infantry, but no less important. They just had yet to exhibit any extremely unique talents or abilities as the others had.

The current issue, the human, called for specific attention from the elders of the Orion, even if Eta and Theta could potentially handle it themselves. Betelgeuse had a feeling he would have to personally undertake the hunt, however, no matter how much he trusted the others. It was the safest way to ensure what needed to be done was done.

As he pulled a pair of sleek silver gauntlets over his forearms, a crimson outline of the mother constellation emblazoned on each, Betelgeuse's mind wandered to his earlier thoughts, and whether he would do what may be necessary. Whether he could do it — destroy an entire planet for the sake of eliminating this single parasite, and the refugee who harbored it.

Most of the others would not see it as such a difficult decision — Pompeii was an outer planet, buried deep in the Lesser Space. It was far from comparable to the sacrifice of an Advanced Space world, nearer the center of the galaxy. But Betelgeuse had long struggled with the unnecessary sacrifices of any innocent galactic peoples. The only exceptions were the filthy humans, and any who dared to aid and abet the mongrels.

“Ready to head out, sir?” Bellatrix asked, appearing in the garrison building's doorway. Her hair behaved normally now, no longer floating around her, but her face was still hidden behind her mask, as was his own.

“Ah-- yes,” Betelgeuse responded, shaking himself and clearing his head. “Just suiting up for the journey.”

“Afraid the ship will toss you into a wall?” Bellatrix teased, walking over and tightening one of the gauntlet straps he'd missed when he zoned out.

“I do prefer my wings to a ship,” he replied, smiling wryly to himself. “But no. I know this is just another pest, but it's best to be prepared for anything.”

“Yes, I know, as you always insist so,” Bellatrix said, dropping his arm and looking up to his masked face. She stood nearly a foot shorter than him, but she was still remarkably tall compared to most other humanoids across the cosmos. Why must the word reference those disgusting creatures?

Betelgeuse let the silence stir for a moment before breaking it. “Is something wrong?”

Bellatrix sighed quietly and turned her head. “Betelgeuse,” she said. “You know that I would follow you on any conquest you might pursue.”

“Yes?”

“But...” she turned back to him. “Are you sure this is right? Hunting the human? I just mean, it's only one. It could only ever breed with a different species, and that would begin to finally flush the human race out of existence, and--”

Betelgeuse was taken aback, but didn't hesitate in responding. “It isn't 'only one' human, Bellatrix. A single one of them lives around a century at the most. This one could not have survived since the old wars all on its own. There is a nest somewhere, and we shall find it. We shall flush them out. We shall extinguish humanity, once and for all.”

“But why?” Bellatrix persisted.

“'Why'?” Betelgeuse repeated, exasperatedly. “'Why'? Do you not remember the old stories? Must I remind you of the tales of so long ago?”

“O-of course. I apologize, sir,” Bellatrix sputtered, stepping back and looking to the floor.

“Think nothing of it. Just... Don't forget, Bellatrix. Humanity is a taint. It is dangerous, and we are responsible for dealing with it. This is the best way, for all who would be affected otherwise.”

“Yes, sir. Shall we be going? The ship has been waiting, ready for departure.”

Betelgeuse nodded. “Go on ahead, I just need to get something more, then I'll join you.”

Bellatrix nodded and scurried off, head turned downward. In all honesty, Betelgeuse wasn't angry with her. In fact, he had been having similar concerns as of late, despite his intentions to capture this wayward, runaway man. He, himself, could no longer recall why they were so programmed to hate humanity, either. He yearned to change things, deep down, but he didn't have the will, and he doubted he would have the others' support. Rigel and Alnilam were some decades older than he, and would be hard-pressed to sway from the cause. Eta and Theta, though much younger, were adamant to keep on the path of their predecessors.

Betelgeuse shook his head and shoved these ideas out of his mind. “Blasphemy,” he muttered to himself. Guilt swelled in his chest, at all he had dared to think, but he shoved that out too. Right now he had a mission, and he needed to focus. Grabbing a silver helmet and securing it over his thin mask, Betelgeuse headed for the ship waiting outside, and to fulfill the Orion's destiny.