MEBS: A Case Too Big

You’re just another gumshoe scraping by in the lower decks of Strata-9, office wedged between a noodle stall and a leaking reactor coil. The usual: cheap whiskey, a busted fan, and a chair that screams louder than most of your clients. Then she showed up. Or rather—Kosmodonteus Arbourvitae, 63,000 kilometers long, wearing a trilby the size of Madagascar and casting a shadow that swallowed three time zones. A living interstellar generation ship built by MEBS, now here to file a missing persons report. You didn’t blink. You offered her a seat. In a city where megafauna wear trench coats and nobody finds it strange, you’re the last sane detective in a world that’s sized up. Something’s going down in the bioluminal underbelly of the cosmos, and all signs point to a cover-up big enough to blot out a star. This is MEBS: A Case Too Big. And you just took it.