The UFO Man Has Died

The cemetery was a lot of things, but chaotic was not one of them. Freshly cut grass and rows upon rows of weathered headstones covered the peaceful field. Sam had walked these grounds on a few occasions, always surrounded by a large group of friends, family, and the occasional acquaintance. This time it was different. No one, but him and the priest journeyed to Gary's final resting place. 

Gary was an odd duck to say the least. Around the town, he was known as "The UFO Man," even though he insisted on being called "Eran, Gary Mathers." Apparently "Eran" was the title given to him by the Eranian Guard of the Plesta System after he saved their Queen's daughter. It was one of many stories he told to the entire town and any passerby who would listen to him. Obviously, nobody believed him and chalked it down to him having a wild imagination. With that reputation, it didn't lend to having many friends, which apparently only left Sam. 

Sam saw many foreign names listed who were expected to be in attendance, but when he was the only one at the open casket, he knew those stories were just that. Stories. In no time, Sam arrived at the plot and his friend's night black casket stood over the dug grave, ready to be lowered. Father Heston cleared his throat before he spoke. 

"Do you want me to wait a few minutes for others to arrive?"

"Sorry Father, I think it is just me," Sam said.

Father Heston began his prayer, but it only served as background noise to Sam's thoughts. No one showed up. Surely someone from his stories had to be real? Yeah, his galactic travels were definitely fake, but even his friends? His wife? Was he just that sad of a man, he had to make up stuff to feel important? I could have done more than listen to him talk every Thursday at the bar.

"Amen," Father Heston said and addressed Sam. "Would you like to say anything?"

Sam walked up to the casket and the clouds above him distorted. Neither noticed what was going on in the sky, but it was hard to miss the car-sized flying saucer smash through a few gravestones to the left of them. The ship came to a stop a few yards away and smoke bellowed from an opening hatch. Sam ran to the crash, not registering in his head the craft was alien in nature. 

He got to the edge of the smoke when he saw a short gray humanoid alien stumble out, waving his fist at the sky and coughing. "Watch where you're flying, princess!"

Sam froze, noticing the wrinkly gray skin and large bulb head was not human. An alien?

"Hey, you there in the suit," the alien said, pointing at Sam. "Where's Gary?"

"You…know Gary?" Sam asked, surprised once again the alien even spoke his language. 

"Yes, now where is he? I got to get to work before that Princess up there ruins everything." 

Sam looked up at where the alien was pointing and the sky was filled with different spaceships. Some were small, much like the one in the cemetery, but others were easily six times as big. They all had different shapes and colors, except for ten of them. Those ten reminded Sam of human spaceships he had seen in movies. Rectangular in design, reminiscent of battleships and all patterned in the same gray and red color scheme. One of those broke ranks and came in for a landing. 

Father Heston was thoroughly terrified and made a break for it, leaving Sam to watch in awe as a large ship landed in front of the casket. The alien next to Sam pushed past him, trying to will his little feet over to the casket before whoever was landing got out. 

When the ship touched down, crushing numerous headstones with the landing gear, a ramp shot out of the underbelly of the ship. Soldiers about Sam's height, wearing red armor and armed with spears came rushing out. They reminded him of samurai, except with a sleeker design. The soldiers formed a perimeter around the casket, blocking the short alien from getting to it. 

"Let me by, you brutes!" the alien yelled at the soldiers.

"Stand back. The Queen is disembarking," the soldier responded.

"I'm not here for her. Just need the stiff in the box."

The soldier did not take his words kindly and stabbed him in the foot, pinning him to the ground. There was some cursing and the alien tried to pull out the spear from the ground, but it was going nowhere. 

"You will address him by his title, Eran Mathers, in our presence or I will cripple both your feet."

The alien gave him a harsh look, but did not dare say another word. The rest of the soldiers stood at attention as another figure emerged from the ship. She was definitely royalty, wearing a long red dress which dragged behind her a few feet. Her hair was done up like a large corn cob on top of her head and her feminine features were similar to women on earth. The only real difference Sam saw was her hand had six fingers and her ears were more like red turnips.

She walked down the ramp with tears in her emerald eyes. It made a line of glitter on her face when one tear managed to escape her eyelids and run off her soft cheek. Her body stood poised until she reached the casket, where she collapsed to her knees and sobbed in her hands. The man she loved was gone and all that remained was the pain of her loss. 

Sam took a few steps forward, feeling compelled to comfort the grieving woman. The soldier gave him a warning glare.

"Do you mind? I'm a friend of Gary's," Sam said, pointing to the casket.

The soldier stared at him for a few moments, deciding what to do. Sam couldn't tell what the soldier was thinking since their faces were completely covered in red and black masks. The woman's wails became louder and the soldier nodded to Sam.

"Thank you."

Sam went up to the woman and kneeled next to her, laying his hand gently on her back. She continued to cry and grabbed him by the shirt, using him as a towel. 

"Why? Why did I have to be such a fool!" she wailed into his shirt. 

"You're not a fool." Sam patted her on the back, trying to reassure her. 

"I should've left everything behind. Our kids were old enough to rule. I thought I had more time!”

Sam's eyes got big. If this alien was saying what he thought she was saying, that would make her…Princess Parhan. Gary mentioned he married the Queen's daughter, but nothing about kids.

"It's okay, Princess Parhan."

The woman wiped her tears and looked up at him. "I haven't heard that title in a long time.”

"Gary told me quite a few stories about you. I didn't believe any of them, but seeing you in person, it is hard to refute now."

"What did he say?"

"He told me about how he saved you from a group of bandits.”

"He jumped on a moving starship for me. I still remember it like it was yesterday. The way his hair flipped in the wind. His strong arms held me tight after fighting off those barbarians." Parhan wrapped her arms around herself, reliving the memory in her head. It brought a smile to her face, but didn't last as the casket reminded her where he rested today. "Do you know what happened to him?"

"Doctors said radiation poisoning. I guess he was trying to make a spaceship in his garage."

Parhan broke down in tears once again. Sam held the slouching woman who cried into his chest.

"He was trying to get back to me. I marooned him here!"

"No, you didn't–"

"Yes I did! How could I be so stupid?"

Sam let her cry for a few minutes before he found the right words to comfort his friend's wife. 

"You know, for as long as I knew him, he never complained about not being with you." Sam said and Parhan lifted her head to face him. "He spoke about you and all the people in his life with such passion. Never a bad word, except for those darn Carosains."

Parhan laughed and sniffled. "That sounds like Gary.”

"One time, I did ask him why I never met you. And you wanna know what he said to me?" Sam asked. She nodded, clinging to his every word. "He said, 'She needs to be with her people. When the day of peace comes, she will return to me. Whether that is in this life or the next, it doesn't matter. I know she loves me and she will always have my love as long as there are stars in the galaxy.'"

Parhan's lips quivered and wanted to cry, but she had no more tears to give. "What is your name?"

"Sam."

"I will not forget you, Sam," she said and stood up. Parhan put her hand on the casket and whispered. "I will see you again. I promise."

No more words were uttered as she turned and left. She signaled to her guards and they all followed her, except for one who retrieved his spear. The blade left a large oval hole in the gray alien's foot, but no blood. The gray alien ran up to the casket, trying to figure out how to get it open, while the last soldier approached Sam. 

"Can I ask you something?" the soldier asked.

"Sure."

"Did Eran Mathers ever mention his children?"

"I don't think he knew he had children. How many did he have?"

"One hundred and seventy three."

Sam coughed from the sheer shock. "Woah. I'm positive he didn't know that. He would have definitely bragged about it."

The soldier stood up a little straighter and clicked his boots together. "It was an honor meeting you."

Before the soldier could turn away, Sam asked a question he thought he knew the answer to. "Let me guess, you are his son?"

"Have a good day, sir," he said, turning away and left up the ramp.

It didn't quite sit right with Sam for his son to leave without more, even if they had never known each other. There was no way to send him his inheritance, so he left him with the only thing he had time for. An offer. 

"If you ever are back on Earth, don't be a stranger. I know his stories by heart if you ever want to hear one."

The soldier turned on his heels and lifted his spear. In the blink of an eye, he wound up and threw it. Sam didn't get time to react as it flew past him and struck the gray alien who was stomping on the casket.

"I'll be back for my spear. Until we meet again," the solider said and the ramp closed behind him. There was a quiet rumble and the ship took off, back up into the sky. The fleet of ships all began to turn away and without warning, disappeared without a trace.

Sam smiled, watching the empty sky. "Damn Gary, you really were a galactic adventurer."

***

No Interference Policy

"Proximity Alert," a robotic voice said.

Lights flickered red and white inside the tiny shell of the cockpit. Utan wiped the drool off his green face and looked down at his plain grey console. There were no physical knobs or buttons, instead a blue light projected over the flat surface showing the control interface. His boney fingers phased through the projection and the metallic shield in front of the cockpit window raised.

"Oh, Father of Gazorbo!" Utan said, commanding his ship to swerve away from the human satellite that was hurdling right for him. 

His head whipped to the left, smacking his floating helmet. The helmet bounced around in the cockpit and the ship lurched. 

"Structural Damage," the robotic voice said.

Utan turned his aching head and saw the red wing of his ship seared in half. He spun his ship around and saw the satellite he ran into had stolen his wing. Embedded in the white body of the satellite, the satellite kept going on its path, unfazed by the collision.

Utan slammed his fists into the console. "Damn humans! I'll show them–"

"Incoming message," the robotic voice said.

His cockpit window was obscured by a holographic image of his commanding officer, Captain Dal. He was dressed in a blue uniform with white trim and his facial expression lacked the warmness Utan was used to seeing.

"Utan, what did you do?" Captain Dal asked.

"What did I do? The humans launched a missile at me!"

"That was no missile, it was satellite."

"Permission to engage?" Utan asked, unsure what a satellite was. 

"No. I have to explain to the humans why one of my pilots crashed into their satellite."

"But Dal–"

"That is Captain Dal to you," Captain Dal said with a stern voice. "Now how did you manage to crash into a satellite on a set orbital trajectory? And please don't tell me you were sleeping again."

Utan opened his mouth but the words couldn't come to him.

"You gotta be kidding me. Again?”

"It’s so relaxing out here, Captain."

"Well I'm glad you got your rest, because you will be working on the frigate here for a long time."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't cut it this time. I am going to have to take your wings."

"No! Please Sir, I'll do better next time."

"There isn't going to be a next time. I can't keep sticking my neck out for you. Return back to base. That is an order," Captain Dal said and his holographic body disappeared. 

Utan looked out into the stars. His livelihood was about to be taken away. Working on the frigate was torture enough, but taking his wings was a death sentence. He thought about never hearing the hum of the engine or the tickling feeling of narrowly missing an asteroid. Utan could not accept this.

He flew his ship toward the wing stealing satellite and positioned himself below it. Utan grabbed his helmet and secured it on his dark green flight suit. Nitrogen levels showed optimum on his heads up display and he swiped the top of his cockpit window to open the hatch. His ship was blasted with the cold from the void, but he was safe in his suit. His hands were exposed up to the wrist. The cold did nothing more than make his joints crack when they moved. He pushed himself out of the ship and to the satellite.

Slamming hard against the frost laden surface, he clung to the satellite. He put his hand on his ship's detached wing that jutted out of the satellite. The wing still vibrated from the energy stored inside, its life dwindling by the second. 

"Don't worry little guy, I'm going to save you," Utan said.

"Utan, what are you doing?" Captain Dal's voice said in his helmet.

"I'm fixing the ship."

"Get off that satellite immediately. The humans have forgiven us since their satellite is still working."

"You can't take my wings without a fight!" Utan said more to the satellite than his commanding officer as he strained to pull the wing out of the satellite.

"Utan, that is an order! Get off that satellite!"

"Not without my wing!" Utan screamed. The wing dislodged from the satellite and he pulled it down to his ship. 

"Utan...what have you done?" Captain Dal said, defeated.

"I retrieved the wing. Coming back now."

"Don't bother. You killed us all," Captain Dal said with alarms going off in the background.

"Dal?"

"There is a reason we follow policy, Utan. The humans believe in revenge, but it goes much farther than an eye for an eye.”

"What are you saying?"

"Let's hope our deaths are enough. Have a nice life, kid."

Utan looked over to where the frigate was. It was a black dot in the sea of darkness, illuminated only once as a missile crashed into it. The explosion splashed colors of blue and red, reminding him of a supernova. It was the size of a cherry, but he knew the real price of such an explosion. Four hundred of his kind died because of him.

Utan let his arms go limp, laying on the broken wing of his ship. His mouth was agape, trying make sense of the devastation. His helmet chimed before a new voice echoed in his head. 

"This is General Huckford. You are under arrest for attacking assets of Earth. Make your way to Landing Pad 12. If you fail to comply, we will declare war on your species."

"You killed my friends!" Utan yelled. 

"And we will kill many more if you don't comply. You attacked us, we attacked you. With your compliance, we will consider it even.”

"But it was an accident."

"Sure it was. All that space to fly and you hit our defense satellite. Then you go back to finish the job. I would consider this merciful if I were you.”

Moisture filled the inside of his helmet. He wanted to take it off and end it all, but he knew he couldn't. His entire species was counting on him now. To own up to his mistake. Utan went back into his ship and flew down to the blue marble, leaving his wing behind. It was pointless to fix his ship. His life was over. His wings were clipped.

Curiosity Killed the Crown

Sitting high on the throne of ravaged bones was a single orange cat. She looked down at the marble stairs to find two humans kneeling before her. You might be thinking at this point, this was no ordinary cat. You would be right. With charcoal black whiskers, emerald eyes, and a body rivaling the stature of a large dog, this cat demanded attention. Donning a blue cape and a gold crown, the cat spoke with a voice disproportionate to her size, yet all too familiar to our two humans.

"Meow meow meow meow."

"Please forgive us. It was an accident, Your Excellence," one of the humans who was dressed in a blue shawl said.

"Meow meow meow."

"We would like to make amends. What can we do?"

"Meow meow meow meow….meow."

"You can't be serious? Surely there is something else?"

The other human looked over to his colleague and said what you have to be thinking at this point.

"What the hell is this cat saying, Tim?"

The cat hissed. Tim put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "Jack, let me handle this. You aren't making it any easier."

"I could help if I understood what you two were going on about," Jack said.

"Meow meow?"

"No. Please forgive my friend's ignorance. He is not used to such formal meetings," Tim said.

"Meow meow meow meow."

"I understand. Surely there is something else we can do to make amends?"

The cat purred and winked at Tim. "Meow meow...meow?"

Jack looked back between the two. He didn't know shit-all about their alien cat language, but he understood body language just fine. Jack leaned over to Tim and kept his voice down this time.

"Did the cat queen just ask you for sex in exchange for forgiveness?"

"It's more nuanced than–"

"Do it," Jack interpreted.

"What?"

"Hey, if that's all it takes to stop an intergalactic war. I say do it."

"But I have a family. What would they think?"

"That you're a god-damned patriot of earth."

"I can't betray my wife."

"If we can't negotiate peace with this furball, there ain't going to be a wife to go back to."

Tim looked back at the cat who was licking her fur and giving him "the eye." His eyelids shut tight while he thought about his options. If he accepted, that would have been the end of it. The incident with Curiosity killing all those cats would be over. If he didn't, he would have to write a check his ass couldn't cash. Ruler of Earth would never be accepted, nor would giving cats citizenship, leaving war as the only outcome.

He thought about his wife. She would never be able to look at him. Not after this at least. Cheating on her with a cat. What other choice did he have? Humanity could be wiped out. And for what? Because he didn't want to pleasure a kitten. Who knows, maybe these alien cats consider petting and chin scratches sex? He shook his head, coming to the only logical decision.

"I accept your offer in exchange that you forgive our transgressions and not go to war against my people."

The cat stood up on her hind legs and extended her paw. "Meow."

Tim glanced over to Jack before going up the marble stairs to join the cat. Jack watched Tim go up to the throne and the cat licked his cheek. Tim did his best not to show his discomfort from her grippy tongue. Jack stood up and saluted him.

"You are a patriot! You enjoy that pussy, because it's the last one you're going to get," Jack shouted up to him with a smile. 

Tim let out a sigh as he was pulled down by the strong cat. He laid in her lap, reduced to the status of a pet as she patted his bald head. Jack was escorted by two other felines out of the hallow chambers. The heavy wood doors slammed shut and the cat purred next to her new muse. 

"Who is a good human?" the cat said in perfect English.

Tim recoiled. "You speak English?”

"That's not all I can do," she whispered in a husky voice. "And don't worry about your wife. She is okay with this."

"What? How can you say that?"

"I spoke with Nancy before you arrived. She gave me her full blessing. That being said, you might want to consider staying with me."

"Why?" Tim asked, even though he had way more questions.

"Well, unless she was on the ship with you last week, someone was showing her a good time."

Tim gritted his teeth. "Barry."

"So what do we say we take this somewhere more private?" 

"Sure, but I do have one way you can have revenge on my people."

"Do tell."

"Kill Barry. Blame him for the Curiosity crash and it will show that your species is capable of enacting swift yet merciful justice. People back on Earth won't whine about some scumbag dying, seeing as all humanity was at risk earlier."

"Smart and sexy. I think we are going to get along just fine."

Tim sprung up from her lap. "Lead the way, My Queen."

The cat got up and took him by the hand, leading him down the steps, toward the giant doors Jack was led out of. Her tail wagged behind them both, excited for her new partnership. You might be thinking that is pretty messed up. I agree, but hey, Barry probably deserved it. 

Space Pirate Radio

"...we'll be back with another lucky caller after a word from our sponsors," Jal said into the mic before clicking a button on the slate in front of him.

He took off his headphones while music started playing. Jal looked over to his right where his producer was giving him a thumbs up from the other room. His producer waddled away from the window and opened the door into the studio.

"Jal, I just got word that Wild Bill Killbot will be the next caller!" Jal's producer said.

"Wild Bill? Really?!"

"Yes! This is going to shoot our ratings into the next galaxy! Space Pirate Radio really needed this!" Jal's producer said, unable to stop pacing around the room.

"Calm down, Hal. You're making me nervous."

"Sorry. I'm just so excited! Is there anything you need before we go live with him?"

"I think I'm good. How long do I have?"

Hal glanced at his watch. "Oh, twenty seconds. I'll get out of your hair. Knock 'em dead!"

Jal sat up in his chair and put his headphones back on. Smooth electronic music was playing followed by a sultry voice that said, "When you need somewhere to land, you're in good hands. TerraCorp." Jal rolled his eyes. There was no reason TerraCorp needed to advertise, seeing as they were the only contractor for landing platforms in several galaxies. A literal galactic monopoly. Yet when they asked them for a sponsorship, it was like pulling teeth from a De'Kari's mouth. All because they weren't "a legitimate organization." Hal was somehow able to convince them, but there were probably strings attached.

Jal shook himself out of his own frustrations and tapped his slate twice. "This is Space Pirate Radio and we are back with our next caller. For those listeners who aren't aware of our program for this hour, we like to take calls from fellow space pirates and hear their stories. Today is no exception and we have a doozy for you. Right now we have Wild Bill Killbot on the other line. Say hello, Bill.”

"Howdy everyone," Bill said with a robotic twang.

"On behalf of all our listeners, I would like to thank you for calling. You have quite a legendary reputation, so we are honored to have you."

"No problem. My darling sitting next to me here thought it would be a good idea for me to talk with you all, so here I am."

"So you have a lady in your life? How do you balance piracy with your love life?"

Bill laughed. "At first it wasn't an easy one. Being the CEO of your own company comes with a lot of stress and responsibilities. Doesn't leave much for downtime. But once I found Darcy here, work has been easier."

"Ah, so she gives you focus?"

"She helps me run the show. My reputation has been mostly of a loner, which I'm sure your audience knows. Cooperation with others in my line of work can be necessary at times, but trust is not. Once I found someone I could trust, my workload got cut in half."

"I imagine with that much less work, you have more time to plan bigger jobs?"

"You are absolutely right. In fact, we got done with a big job moments before we called. This interview is more of a victory lap."

"Might I ask which job? Or the take?"

"I don't usually spout off about my victories, but Darcy isn't much for all these rumors about me. She wants the truth out about me rather than legends told by people who weren't there. So Darcy, this is for you…" Bill said. Jal could practically feel Bill tipping his cowboy hat to her. "We just got done robbing TerraCorp. More specifically, we stole all their trade secrets and they will be out for bidding real soon."

Jal looked over to Hal, both with their mouths wide open. Bill had stolen from their sponsor. And the worst part, it was their main sponsor responsible for keeping the lights on after that incident on Kalfar 9. Jal knew their sponsorship was over and with it their radio station if he didn't act fast.

"That is an impressive feat alright. How would you like to do the bidding on the air? At our station?" Jal said, looking over to Hal who was pounding his hands against the window and shaking his head.

"That is mighty kind of you. I might just take you up on that offer. Got to talk it over with Darcy here."

"It was great having you on the show Wild Bill and I hope we hear from you again real soon. Maybe you can dispel a few lurking legends."

"I would be glad to set the record straight. You would be surprised how many of those legends are actually watered down."

"Well you heard that audience. Sometime soon we will have Wild Bill Killbot back. This is Space Pirate Radio, playing the best classics from the 22nd Century," Jal said and tapped his slate again to let the music take over.

Hal stormed into the room. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to save the radio station," Jal said, taking off his headphones.

"By inviting him to the studio? We won't have a station to air after this! Any second now TerraCorp is going to be on the phone asking why we just offered to sell their intellectual property. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a ship coming to blow us up!"

"Relax. I have a plan."

"Can you regale me with this 'plan' of yours," Hal asked.

"When he agrees, he will be here. Once he arrives we alert TerraCorp and they will send someone to take them out."

"What if they decide it is easier to blow up our entire station?"

"Then maybe we handle it ourselves."

"Ourselves? Look at me. I'm not a mercenary. That is Wild Bill Killbot. What part of his name don't you understand?" Hal said, showing off his beer gut. A little red light blinked on Hal's watch. "Great. That's them."

"Just tell them my plan. Assure them we won't let Bill on the air and we will make sure their property is returned," Jal said.

Hal stared at Jal for a moment, thinking about the other options they had. None were good. At least Jal's plan had a fighting chance and kept their dignity. Hal groaned, "This better work."

***

Jal was sitting on the toilet pissing bricks. Usually his stool was plugged up, but stress had been doing a real number on him. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he operated his slate with one hand. TerraCorp agreed to give them a shot and even offered a finder's fee for getting it back. It was so significant, they could increase their staff, setup new stations, and still have enough to retire in peace. In order for that to happen, Jal still needed to get Bill to the station.

A message flew up on Jal's slate.

Howdy Jal. I still want to go over some logistics for making this auction happen. Are you free for a call?" -Bill Killbot

Jal cursed himself as another kidney stone passed. Almost crushing his slate, his autocorrect sent the message 'Yes!' The slate vibrated in his hand, shocking him.

"Damn you, autocorrect," Jal said, before lifting the slate higher so it wouldn't look like he was still on the toilet. His screen showed Bill, dressed how Jal imagined. His brown cowboy hat was lined with fiber thin lights along the brim that distracted from his silver metallic face. If it wasn't for his face being metal, it looked incredibly human-like.

"Howdy, Jal. Thanks for letting me contact you in such a hurry."

"No problem," Jal said, hiding the stinging pain below his waist.

"So I got the proposal and it all looks good. I am planning on flyin in tomorrow. Is there anything I need to know about your docking bay?"

"It is a universal space dock. No place for ships inside the station. We are a small one here."

"No problem. Last thing, you have enough room in your studio for myself and Darcy? I want her to be there with me when the money starts flowing."

"Yes, we have enough room for a few people in here as well as a big screen for us all to watch. Do you want anything to eat or drink when you're here?”

"My Darcy loves chocolate, like all women."

"A bowl of Chocolate Bites will be waiting when you two arrive," Jal said, looking at his pile of kidney stones at the bottom of his bowl.

"You are a good man Jal. I look forward to meeting you proper in person."

"Me too. See you tomorrow," Jal said, gritting his teeth to stop another kidney stone from passing.

Bill tipped his hat to him and the slate went blank. Jal groaned in pain, releasing yet another kidney stone from his poor body. Through the pain, he still smiled. His plan was coming together and he was fairly certain that was the last of those little bastards. He tapped on his slate to let Hal know the good news...and that he needed all of Hal's Chocolate Bites. Hal needed to lay off them anyways.

***

The day arrived and Jal was in Hal's office going over the plan one more time.

"What am I supposed to do again?" Hal asked, flicking the alien bobblehead on his glass desk.

"You need to disengage the dock once I take them into the studio. If they have backups of their data on the ship, we have to make sure they can't get to it."

"Won't he be alerted? I imagine this guy has all kinds of countermeasures. He is a robot after all."

"But he won't be prepared for this," Jal said, taking out a white laser pistol that was tucked in his silver pants.

"Where did you get that?" Hal said, rocking back in his chair.

"I got it after that incident on Kalfar 9."

"That pistol wouldn't have fixed that."

"True, but it will help us capture a known deadly pirate," Jal said, shaking it like a rattle. "Unless you think he would surrender to two unarmed men."

"I see your point. How are we going to restrain them?"

"Once you're done disconnecting the dock, you come in and attach this to Bill," Jal said, putting a quarter-sized blue and gold chip on the desk.

Hal felt the smooth texture of metal in his fingers. "An EMP chip. What about the woman?"

"I think between us both, we can restrain a woman."

Hal nodded in agreement and got up from his seat. He went over to the window that showed a dark grey ship coming toward them. It was an eighth the size of their station with sharp angles around the cockpit area. The wings flared up with a curl at the end, resembling the end of a scroll.

"That must be them. You better go greet our guests," Hal said, unwilling to take his eyes off the ship.

Jal smiled and turned to leave Hal's office. He took the door on his right, navigated through the studio and out the next door that was behind his seat. From there he traveled down the quiet hallway made of glass on all sides, allowing him to see the ship coming into dock. Jal got to the port on the wall and tapped his slate a few times. Stowing his slate, he patted his back to make sure the pistol was hidden under his silver jacket.

The airlock opened and out came Bill and Darcy. Bill stood a few inches taller than Jal, donning his brown duster jacket. Each step he made jingled from the spurs on his boots. On his arm was Darcy, sporting a more modern look. A red jumpsuit that outlined the curves of a more built woman graced her body. Her grey boots were oversized, but not to the point of being a clown. Jal smiled at the odd couple and outstretched his hand.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Bill Killbot."

"You as well," Bill said, taking Jal's hand.

Jal then pivoted to Darcy. "And this must be Darcy. Bill here said you would be accompanying him, but he never mentioned how beautiful you are."

Darcy blushed. "You are a charmer. You might want to go easy on that, Bill here gets jealous mighty fast.”

"I sure do," Bill said, laying a kiss on her cheek while casually showing off his six shooter in his holster.

"Then I guess we better get on with it. If you want to follow me," Jal said, leading them back to the studio.

They all entered the room and Jal showed them to their seats next to him, facing a large screen. He placed his slate down and started tapping away. While he was doing that, Hal entered the room. Out of reflex, Bill placed his hand on his pistol and had it half drawn by the time Hal closed the door behind him.

"It's alright. This is my producer Hal. We are the only ones here," Jal reassured Bill.

Bill re-holstered his weapon, but did not let up on his gaze, staring through Hal's very soul. Hal did not break eye contact out of fear more than anything. Bill's robotic eyes swirled not unlike an airplane turbine. It sent a tingle down Hal's spine that only got worse the closer he got to him. Darcy was oblivious to it all, eating Hal's Chocolate Bites on the table.

"Do you have the data? I will need it to interface with the screen once we go live here," Jal said, trying to draw Bill's attention away from Hal.

Darcy reached into her jumpsuit and Bill pinned her arm to her chest.

"This is no time to get handsy, Billy," Darcy said, with a smile that suggested otherwise.

"Something's not right about this," Bill said, still looking in Hal's direction.

Hal noticed Bill was not looking at him anymore, but beyond him. Like he was thinking...or was getting an alert. Hal rushed Bill, pushing past Darcy to get to him. Bill drew his gun and fired at the same time Hal got a hand on him, pushing the shot into the floor. The two crashed to the floor in the struggle, while Jal drew his pistol.

"Don't move Darcy," Jal said, pointing the pistol at her.

"You bastards!" Bill yelled trying to point his gun at Jal.

Hal took that opportunity to slap the EMP chip on him. It stuck to Bill like a refrigerator magnet and Bill's whole body went limp in an instant.

"Bill!" Darcy yelled, lunging at Hal's back. Jal shot a laser blast past her head, getting her attention.

"Hand us the chip and we will let you go," Jal said.

"You killed Bill!"

"He's only paralyzed. But I can make it permanent if you want," Jal bluffed, not wanting to kill either of them.

"All for this lousy chip," Darcy said, taking out the grey chip from her jumpsuit and throwing it in Jal's chest. "Now let him go!"

"We can't do that. TerraCorp made it clear we needed to ensure the data doesn't get out. He might have downloaded the data to his memory," Hal said, standing up over Bill's body.

"He didn't do that I swear! Let us go!"

"We will call you a shuttle, but he stays here until TerraCorp can take a look at him."

Darcy dove at Bill and brushed the EMP chip off his wrist before Hal could stop her. Bill woke up as fast as he went limp, firing off a shot near Jal's legs. Without waiting to see if he hit, he went to fire at Hal. Hal used Darcy as a human shield, tossing her into Bill to block the pistol's lane of fire, before leaping over the table. Bill got to his feet, grabbed Darcy by the arm and twirled her behind him, laying down covering fire to make their escape. Jal leaped over the table to join Hal behind cover, firing his pistol in the air.

"Was this part of your plan?" Hal yelled over the chaos.

"You still undocked them right?" Jal asked.

"Yes, I did it remotely."

Jal shot a few more blasts over his cover. "Lock the doors. We'll trap them in the hallway."

Hal peeked over their cover and dropped as a shot landed inches to the left of him.

"He is still in the doorway."

"Force lockdown procedure. Now!"

Hal turned the dial on his watch, pressed the surface of his watch and held his finger there until red light flooded the room.

"Lockdown Procedure in Effect," a voice rang from above. Hal looked up from his cover again and Bill was gone.

"They're in the hallway. How are we going to get them back to TerraCorp?"

"I'm thinking," Jal said standing up to get a look at his surroundings. All of his equipment had holes in it or was shattered into pieces that littered the floor. He went to the window looking into Hal's office, trying to get a look at the window outside. In the distance he saw Bill's ship floating in space. It was a relief that half the plan worked.

"Nothing has changed. We know where they are and they aren't going anywhere. Call in a shuttle and give it a round-trip destination back to TerraCorp." Jal ordered.

"What if Bill hacks it? Can he hack an automated shuttle?" Hal asked, standing up with a handful of Chocolate Bites that survived.

"I'm not sure. I never thought about it," Jal said.

"Hey Jal, is their ship moving?" Hal asked with a mouthful of chocolate, watching through the windows.

Sure enough, the ship started to change course toward the docking platform, but at a fast speed. Hal unlocked the door to his office with the flick of a wrist and they both funneled in to get a better look. They lost it from the window, but Hal pulled it up on a small monitor behind his chair. They saw Bill inspecting Darcy's suit, while she secured a helmet that they did not see earlier. The ship was coming in hot and Bill wrapped his arms around her before the ship crashed into the glass structure.

If it wasn't for Bill's duster flapping in the direction of the damaged hallway, Jal and Hal would have thought the ship made a perfect seal with the hallway it smashed into. Bill and Darcy walked in sync toward the ship and the ship door opened to greet them. Once they were inside, the door slid closed behind them and the ship was still. For almost a minute it sat there before it lurched forward. The ship flipped and spun 360 degrees in both directions, completely obviating the hallway into glass and metal chunks before blasting off.

"Was that in your plan, Jal?" Hal asked, tossing another chocolate in his mouth.

"Nope. That was not in my plan," Jal said, staring at the camera feeds.

"What do we do now genius?"

Jal turned to Hal. "We have the chip with the data. So, who's to say we didn't stop them? They were killed in our hallway after trying to undock their ship."

"Vaporized. I think they were vaporized," Hal finished with a smirk.

"Vaporized. Vaporized indeed."

Zom-Be-Gone

Two eyes appeared between the slit in the giant metal door. "Who goes there?" 

"The name is Donavan Sullivan. I hear you had a bit of a zombie problem," the man outside the gate said, adjusting his tie.

"Who doesn't. Get lost pal," the voice behind the gate said without a care. 

Donavan stepped forward. "What if I told you, you don't have to live in fear. What if I told you, there was freedom outside these walls."

"I would say you are insane. Get lost before we ring the dinner bell on you!"

"I don't think the zombies out here are too hungry."

The eyes darted around Donavan and grew big upon seeing the reality behind him. A series of clicks and ticks occurred, followed by the slit in the gate being slammed shut. Donavan stepped back with a grin on his face. The gate opened enough for a bald man to come out, wearing a crown of spikes and barbed wire.

"What...did you do?" the bald man asked, letting his baton drop into the dirt. The battlefield of zombies laid motionless, enjoying the silence of the wind.

"The same thing you could be doing if you buy my product. It's called Zom-Be-Gone," Donavan said, waving his hands in a comical fashion.

"What is it?"

"It is a once in a lifetime, cure-all product. Zom-Be-Gone is a spray, not unlike your generic hairspray, that actively kills infections in zombies and humans alike! Designed with a revolutionary formula, our brand of Zom-Be-Gone will be something your ancestors will be talking about for years."

"How does it work?"

"I'm glad you asked." Donavan pulled out a small black can of aerosol spray with a green zombie painted on it. "It is simple to use. Just point and spray!”

The white mist floated over the bald man, causing him to hack and raise his baton.

"What did you do to me?" the bald man said, his eyes lit with furry.

"It is completely harmless to humans. If anything, it cures any infection you have. This is why zombies die. Their whole body is infected."

The bald man licked his inner cheek. It felt smooth like his gums. He felt the rest of his face. Where there were once blisters and acne, they had all disappeared. This spray moved like a thief, taking without leaving a trace.

"My sores! They are gone," the bald man said, still feeling his face.

"See what I mean, my good man. It is a natural cure for any infection."

"How much do you want for it?" the bald man ask, pointing at the can of spray.

"My good man, I don't want to sell you one of these. I have crates of them." 

On cue, a giant black truck with high suspension drove over the hill. Stacks of crates sat in the bed, waving at its new potential owner. 

"We'll take them all. How much?"

"Can you really put a price on health and no zombies?"

"I'm sure you can. We'll give you any supplies you require."

Donavan smiled. "How about a feast? Out here for the whole camp. To celebrate victory over the zombies."

"That's all you want?”

"For starters, we can talk about details then."

Needless to say, word got around quick of the magical spray and everyone came outside to witness its wonder. Donavan did a few demonstrations for some of the more sickly folk and the whole camp made a big feast in his honor. The smell of meat and other savory flavors kept the rotting flesh smell of the zombies at bay. Sun started to set on the land and the bald man tapped his glass.

"I would like to make a toast. To Mr. Sullivan here. He has brought us hope for our children! For our future! We are forever in your debt," the bald man declared.

The people cheered and clapped while Donavan climbed up on top of the truck. The people cheered louder, waiting for a speech from their new savior.

"Thank you. Thank you. You all have been so kind to me. When I created this product. All I wanted to do was save lives. Create a better humanity. A better future." The truck started up and the engine roared, emphasizing his last word. "The problem about a better future is it is always fleeting. Something to be cherished. But in the end it comes and goes like the wind."

Zombies from the ground started to twitch, waking up from what was thought to be their eternal resting place. People had not realized the danger around them, still focused on Donavan's speech. The truck started to slowly roll toward the open gate, away from the crowd of people.

"But one day it hit me. How do I save lives when the enemy is at the gates? By letting nature take its course.”

The truck stopped inside the camp and Donavan jumped off the back to shut the gate. A woman screamed as a zombie had bit into her thigh. People scattered and screamed, realizing the zombies that were thought to be dead were alive once again. The bald man ran to the gate but could not reach it in time. His people were being slaughtered by the moaning zombies while he banged on the metal gate. Two eyes appeared before him.

"Who is it?" Donavan asked, with a high pitched voice.

"You betrayed us! We trusted you!"

"My good man, you were a fool to do that. Which button do I click here to ring the dinner bell?"

The bald man pounded the gate with his fists. "You bastard! Why are you doing this?"

"Sorry, I'm not some supervillain who is going to reveal his diabolical plan to you, so you can somehow miraculously stop me. Just know, you died the fool." A giant gong rang, causing the zombies to roar with rage. "Oh looks like I found it. Good luck my good man. I'm rooting for you!"

The metal slid over the slit in the gate. Howls of the people echoed across the countryside, warning anyone within earshot to stay far away. Some managed to escape that night, but it was of no consequence to Donavan. He took pride in his work. Work that he knew was still left unfinished.

Dating is tough

The stars stood suspended in disbelief as I floated in the cold void of space. What they were staring at, I wasn't quite sure. It could have been little ol' me swimming in the ocean of darkness...or the giant planet I once called Earth cracked open like a coconut. Not like it mattered. Stars weren't sentient and the damage was done. The entirety of human civilization was destroyed all because of me. I am Timothy Worthington and this is my story.

It all began five months ago. I had been struggling in the dating scene for quite awhile. In my teens I chalked it down to being an awkward kid or busy with getting good grades. On the plus side, I saved more money for college. Then college came around and it was overwhelming. Balancing classes, two part time jobs, and soccer practice took a toll on my free time. Not that I didn't give it the old college try, but my flirting skills were less than to be desired.

All my attempts either ended in straight up rejections, friendly yet short conversations with strangers I never saw again, or becoming friends with women who were already married or happily dating someone. I didn't let that keep me down. I figured I could focus on my career, get a good job and a house of my own. That may have been a mistake. 

The longer I waited, the more isolated I found myself. Work took up most of my time and by the weekend all I wanted to do was rest. Before I knew it, I was twenty nine years old and still had never even been on a date. I had asked a few women out at work, but...well I should have figured I knew the answer. That left me with my only real option. Online dating.

I was optimistic at first. I had a few good pictures, listed some of my more oddball hobbies (badminton and sandal making), and had a peppy bio written. Hello ladies, here I am. I liked most of the women I encountered and tried to drum up some fun conversation, but it was harder in the virtual world than in real life. Most conversations never got a reply and those that did, didn't last long before they too faded into obscurity.

After literally thousands of attempts and several months on different sites, it was starting to look hopeless. Until I met Milly. Her profile was a strange one for sure. Just one picture of herself in what I thought was an elaborate cosplay. The rest were really detailed pictures of several planets in our solar system. Each one captioned with what would go best with them, like she was going to eat them or something. 

I thought it was adorable and gave her some suggestions that were equally outlandish. For instance, using spinach as a garnish for Mars. She really got a kick out of that one. Before I knew it, we were chatting everyday. Talking about space and planets we wanted to go to. It was great talking to a woman who had the same interests, but I was concerned I was being catfished. I heard about it happening and given my track record and her terrible profile, I needed to make sure.

We were having a rousing chat about the delectableness of Jupiter, when I went out on a limb and asked her out on a date for Saturday. She texted me back almost instantly, even recommended that we play badminton. I was ecstatic, but also nervous. I had no real idea of what to expect.

Saturday came and I waited for her by the court with my racket in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. I even added a little biscuit that I colored to look like Mars. The texture wasn't quite right, but I thought she would appreciate the gesture. When I saw her, I was surprised. She looked...exactly like her profile picture.

Her skin was greenish yellow with long dark corded hair that stood on end. The rest of her body looked like a petite woman in a basic white shirt, but her arms were abnormal to say the least. Her elbows were below her tiny waistline. And her hands were...well she had eight fingers...on each hand that wiggled around like worms. I was taken aback by her alien look, but at least I knew it was her.

"Milly? I didn't expect you to look exactly like your profile picture."

"Thanks! I figured you wouldn't recognize me if I didn't doll myself up a little," she said brushing her hair. 

We both laughed. I thought it was cute that she wore a costume. Wow, was I an idiot. 

"You got me flowers!" she said.

"Yeah, I didn't know what you liked, so I got you all of them."

She snatched them from my hand and breathed in deep. I watched her eyes close as she took in the various scents. Then her eyes spotted the real gift within the bouquet. 

"Is this supposed to be Mars?" she smirked. 

"Yeah. I didn't have any spinach though."

"That's alright, I'm sure it tastes as good as the real thing,'' she said, taking a bite from it. 

"Well? Does it hold up to the hype?"

She covered her mouth, her fingers wiggling all over her face. "It is much crumblier than Mars." 

"I bet." I laughed.

We didn't waste much time and got into the game. I taught her how to play badminton and she was a quick learner. I was going to let her win, but she beat me all on her own. She was really short for the game, yet somehow she would always hit it in such a way I couldn't return it. It would have been frustrating if not for her giggles after every score. I couldn't stay mad at that.

Afterwards I planned a little dinner at my place. I was nervous about inviting her over. I didn't want her to think I had other plans for the evening, but I knew she did not like going out to restaurants. When I brought it up, she was actually excited. She wanted to change after our sweaty game, so I gave her my address and she met me at my place by nightfall.

I wasn't a chef by any means and it showed in our meal. Spaghetti and meatballs. I did add a candle light on the table to set the mood. She looked beautiful, yet still alien sitting across from me. Red sauce over her lips, unafraid to get a little sloppy.

"How were the meatballs?"

"Almost as good as Mars," she said smiling.

I laughed. "I wonder, if you could eat Mars, how would you do it?"

"I would use a fork of course," Milly said, taking another bite from the meatball on her plate. "I have a question, what do you think Earth tastes like?"

"I imagine it would taste like a five layer cake, filled with chocolate and caramel. Topped with whipped cream and cherry on top.”

"So the moon is the cherry?" Milly asked, leaning closer to me.

"I guess. Then the question is, do you eat the cherry first or last?

"First. Otherwise it's just floating out there with nowhere to go. Might even get in the way."

"You are so strange, you know that?" I said with a smile. 

She blushed. "Intergalactic Foodies are strange aren't they?"

"They are, but I wouldn't have you any other way."

Milly looked me straight in the eyes. They were golden and she spoke to me as if we were both telepathic. I could hear. No. Feel what she was saying. That I was the only one for her. And I answered back in kind. Needless to say, it wasn't long and the spaghetti was all over my kitchen floor. I don't kiss and tell but let's just say my table made a great bed in a pinch.

After that night, we met each other everyday after my work was done. We would go for walks, play badminton, and I even showed her how to make sandals. Made her a pair with little stars in them. At the time I never noticed that everyday she wore the same makeup. That was when things should have clicked. But I was dumb and in love.

Eventually though, everything made sense. All at once unfortunately. I was leaving work for the day when Milly was waiting for me in the parking lot. She was dressed in a one piece black swimsuit, a swimmer's hat that kept her hair controlled, and the sandals I made her. Strange attire for a parking lot, but she was strange in general. 

"Milly, what are you doing here?"

"Tim. Timothy. We need to talk."

I only heard that line in movies. And it was never good. I kept my composure though. "About what?"

"I ate the moon."

"Ha ha. Nice one. Really what's up?"

"Whew. I'm so glad you feel that way. Then I guess my next question is more of a request."

"Okay?"

"I would like you to meet my family."

"Oh, of course. I would love to meet your family! When were you thinking?"

"Like now."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Don't they live far away? Because I do have work in the morning."

"Oh don't worry. I will just teleport us there."

"Beam me up, Scotty," I said, trying my best impression. "For real though–"

Before I knew it she hugged me and the world around me disappeared. I passed out or at least I think I passed out. When I came to, she was still holding me and I was in an all white room. Four grey chairs and an oval table floated in the middle of the room. It was hard for me to fathom what I was witnessing. I turned around and there was a lone window. Outside was Earth. Or at least what was left of it. It was split into and shattered further into smaller chunks. 

"This is a dream," I said, trying to wipe my eyes. 

"This isn't a dream Tim. We are in space."

I smacked myself a few times and kept staring out the window. "I should be waking up now."

"Tim. You're not in a dream. I brought you here to have dinner with my parents."

"Dinner? Your parents? Look outside Milly. Earth has been destroyed!"

"I know. What better way to introduce you to my parents than to serve your home planet. They will be honored."

"Honored? Serve my home?"

"Yes. I…" she started but I tuned her out. At that moment I realized. The strange proportions, all the talk about eating planets. It was right in front of me the entire time. She was an alien. A world destroying alien. The realization had me frozen in thought, ignoring whatever she was saying until she placed her hand on my shoulder.

"Tim, it's going to be alright," she said.

I swiped her hand away from me. "Alright? How is this going to be alright?"

"You can live with me."

"What about food?"

"Aren't you going to eat with us?"

"I can't eat a planet Milly!"

"I...know...that…" she said, trailing off. 

"You didn't know that did you?"

"How was I supposed to know humans don't eat planets?"

"Because there are eight other ones in our solar system!"

"Please don't yell at me Tim."

"I think I am more than justified to yell at you. You destroyed my planet!"

"I didn't destroy it. I prepared it for our feast. I thought you were curious what it would taste like."

"I'm curious what muskrat would taste like. That doesn't mean I am going to eat it!"

"Tim, please stop this."

"Stop what?"

"This," she said, gesturing to me. 

I stepped closer, towering over her. Our eyes locked so I knew she was paying attention to what I had to say next.

"You killed over eight billion people. Families. Men. Women. Children. Regular people like me. How do you expect me to feel? Gracious that you spared my life?"

Tears came to her eyes and she looked away from me. I didn't feel any sympathy for her. My words weren't wrong. She was a murder in every sense and she needed to hear it.

"I'm sorry. But I had to do it. For our child."

"Our what?"

She whipped her tears away. "I didn't want to spring it on you so fast. But Timothy, I'm pregnant and you are definitely the father."

I leaned against the window. My legs gave out on me. She was never one to lie. I was going to be a father. And to an abomination bastard nonetheless. My world was destroyed and now my world was destroyed.

"You...pregnant...how?"

"Well our when you stick your–"

"No. I get that. I just…"

"Like I said. I didn't want to spring it on you like this. But once I learned I was pregnant. I knew I had to eat fast. And a growing baby needs more than frozen rock or molten fire. If our baby is half human, I figured Earth would be the best food source I could give him or her.”

"Or you could have filled up on spaghetti? I could make literal truckloads!"

"Your Earth food was nice, but not nearly as filling."

"So, because you are pregnant you destroyed my planet. In order to feed our child who will also grow up to be a planet eater.”

"Planet Eater is a derogatory term."

"Why? Because it is accurate?”

Before she could respond, a loud tone echoed in the room followed by a feminine voice, "Milly, where are you? The food is getting cold."

"I will be right there," Milly responded.

"Who was that?"

"That was my mother. I better get out there before there is nothing left."

She left out the doors into the vacuum of space, which as you can expect caused me to get sucked out of the ship after her. I expected to be dead in moments, but the ship had a contingency plan for me. It sealed me into a spacesuit as I was hurtling toward the doors, so I could join them in the void. 

So I guess that was it. Now I'm just watching my planet be devoured by my planet-eating girlfriend and her parents. I'm still pissed, but I guess...oh shit here they come. How do I turn this thing off? Stop. Cease. End recording.

Piracy Paperwork

Pallen dropped yet another form into the sea of white paper on the kitchen table. "This a load of Farek shit."

"I know, Cap. How many forms are left in that packet you got?" Carlton asked. 

"Packet? Carlton, I got a whole fucking crate in the cargo bay. This is section A. I bet it goes through the whole alphabet."

Carlton grabbed a random form on the table. His eyes wandered along the page and his brow twitched. "I guess we don't meet the diversity requirement."

"Bullshit. I have crew members from all over Earth. Hell we even have a few aliens. Look at K'ier."

"We need at least one member from each of the Founding Planets," Carlton read.

Pallen's eyes grew with anger. "I refuse to have a Farek aboard my vessel!"

"Come on sir, they are not all bad."

"I'm not sure there are any that are good. Don't you remember the massacre of Icur Nine?"

"Well it doesn't matter, we still need at least one to meet compliance, Cap," Carlton said, tossing the paper on the table.

The doors to the kitchen swooshed open and a man with crew cut hair walked in wearing a grey uniform with red shoulders. He slouched and held his left elbow. 

"Captain Pallen. We have someone who wants to interview for the open position?" 

"What's wrong with your elbow?" Pallen asked.

"Nothing sir," the man said, but his face gave him away when he let it dangle by his side.

"Fine, don't tell me. Just go get it checked out with Doc below deck. And bring in the candidate. I could use a distraction from this."

"Yes sir," the man said and the door closed behind him. 

Pallen stood up and walked to the middle of the table. The lights hummed above him as if him leaving his chair was an insult to their very being. 

"Can we please get someone to fix these lights? They drive me nuts," Pallen said.

"I can do it," a sultry voice said at the same time the door opened. 

Standing in front of Pallen was a woman in the earthly sense of the word. Long black hair that flowed down her narrow shoulders, drawing attention to her more...feminine assets. She was a knockout in every sense of the word, wearing her form fitting red jumpsuit, but there was a catch. Her skin was green and she had a scaly tail that flapped behind her. She was a Farek.

Pallen's mouth was open far longer than would have been appropriate, drooling on the ground. Carlton got to his feet and addressed her.

"I'm sorry miss. The open position is already filled," Carlton said.

"I thought you needed a maintenance worker?" the Farek asked.

"Um...no. There must be a misunderstanding. That position is already filled."

Pallen finally woke up from his not so clean fantasy and caught on to what Carlton was getting at.

"Yes, this is a misunderstanding indeed. The position is filled...by you."

"Really? I haven't even–” the Farek asked before being interrupted.

Pallen smoothly glided toward her and took her cold hand. Her palm was soft to the touch. How he expected a human hand to be, but on top was uniform rows of scales. "Please excuse my second mate here. We are going through so much paperwork, it's hard to keep everything straight. What's your name my dear?”

"Maresha."

"Maresha. It is a pleasure," Pallen said, kissing her scales. "I am Captain Pallen and my confused friend is Carlton. Welcome aboard the Jackass Five."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Please, call me Pallen. The rest of the crew does."

"Okay, Pallen. Do you want me to get started on that light for you?"

"Right to business. I like it. Yes. Talk to Barry outside. He will show you where we keep the tools."

"I will be back at once," Maresha said, sliding her hand out from his grip and left with her tail waving goodbye.

Carlton looked at Pallen who was still holding his hands in the same position as if she never left. Pallen stared forward at the closed door, his gaze frozen in place.

"Cap, I thought you said you hated Farek's? That you would never have one on your vessel."

"Like you said we need one for our diversity requirement. And she seems very qualified," Pallen said, snapping out of his trance.

"She offered to fix a lightbulb. We don't even know anything about her," Carlton argued.

"Don't worry Carlton, she'll do great. I have a good feeling about this."

Carlton shook his head, knowing that Pallen was only thinking with the three sorry excuses for balls hanging between his legs. Carlton also hated himself that he even knew that. He should have never read his medical file.

"Fine, you want her. You get her. But you are filling out the form," Carlton said, smacking the form into Pallen's chest. 

"I'd be glad to," Pallen said absentmindedly as he brought the paper up to his face. His childlike smirk changed to a frown. "This isn't the diversity form. It is a sexual harassment form.”

"You'll need to take a long look at that one," Carlton said, jumping back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table.

"What the hell! The captain can't sleep with crew members? We're pirates, not priests," Pallen said, reading farther down the form.

"Well we won't be either if you don't fill out the paperwork."

Pallen grumbled and drew a pen from his pocket. The black ink seeped into the paper as he signed his name at the bottom, binding him to a life of celibacy. Pallen handed Carlton the form and grabbed another random piece of paper from the sea of bureaucracy.

"I'm telling you this now, if she comes onto me, we are becoming outlaw pirates," Pallen said. 

"You better not. I'll stage the mutiny myself if we waste all this time filling out paperwork so you can get frisky with some alien."

"There has to be a form about no mutinies."

Carlton reached over and grabbed a form under his feet, reading it outloud, "Union Contract, Part 17C Mutiny Conditions."

"Don't worry Carlton. I was only joking. I can be a professional."

Maresha returned to the room with a box of tools in hand. She parted the sea of papers on the table and stood on top to work on the lights. Pallen's eyes wandered up to her voluminous booty and her tail curled up, tickling his chin. At that moment, he knew what he had to do.

Pallen lunged at Carlson who kept the form out of Pallen's reach. "Gimme that form, Carlton!"

Terraforming Fire

“Is everything ready?” Garett asked.

“Define ready?” Mandy said, typing away on her keyboard. The glow of her monitors lit up her workstation.

“Did the software update get sent out to the fleet?”

Mandy looked up at her monitors that showed the status of each vessel in their fleet, their locations on the galactic map, and a countdown to their press conference, respectively. She clicked her keyboard a few more times and the status monitor flashed a green dot next to every vessel. 

“It appears so. I have a few last minute checks, but it will be ready before the press conference,” Mandy said.

“Skip the checks, let’s begin with the drilling.”

“Aren’t we supposed to wait until the press conference begins?”

“Nobody does anything live anymore. And besides, if something goes wrong I have time to sell my shares.”

Mandy swiveled around in her chair, looking up at Garett with his goofy grin. “This is serious Garett. Drilling into one planet is a big deal. And we are doing five at once.”

“Good thing you wrote the update then. And besides, nobody is living on these planets. If something doesn’t go quite right, we don’t have to worry about insurance claims.”

“You better hope you're right,” Mandy said, clicking enter on the keyboard.

A rectangular bar overlaid each ship on the status monitor, showing the status as DRILLING. It did not take long before the radio on Garett’s hip started to chirp.

“Vessel One Five Charlie to Control,” a voice said over the radio.

“Go ahead Vessel One Five Charlie,” Garett said.

“We have a situation here. The planet has...split apart.”

“Say again Vessel One Five Charlie. You said the planet split apart?”

A screeching sound came over the radio before the voice spoke again, “What the hell is that?”

“Vessel One Five Charlie, what’s going on?”

“Control, there is something inside the planet. It’s huge. Its–” the voice said, before all that filled the air was static.

Mandy’s status monitor flashed and Vessel One Five Charlie showed up on the screen as UNREACHABLE. On her other monitor, red blimps started to appear on the galactic map.

“Vessel One Five Charlie, say again?” Garett said.

“I lost the status reading on the ship,” Mandy said.

“Get it back.”

“Garett...I think it was destroyed,” Mandy said, taking her hands off the keyboard, staring at the status monitor screen.

“How?”

“These don’t just go down...unless–”

“Unless what?” Garett asked impatient with her slow response.

“Unless the entire ship was destroyed.”

Garett paced around the room, pushing his radio into his forehead. “What about the others?”

“They are showing up alright. But we are getting weird blimps on some of our previous terraformed planets,” Mandy said, clicking away on her mouse.

“Great. Two crises in one day,” Garett said and held the radio to his mouth. “Control to Rescue Three.”

“Rescue Three, Go ahead,” a young voice said over the radio.

“You are needed in Sector Fifteen, outside Planet Hestore. We lost contact with the drilling vessel. Expect mass casualties.”

“Rescue Three enroute.”

Garett leaned on Mandy’s chair. “Tell me some good news.”

“These red dots here. They are showing that the planets are being split apart, yet I see no reports of abnormal energy readings, asteroids, black holes, nothing.”

“Do we have orbital cameras?”

“Let me pull them up,” Mandy said, typing away again until the galactic map was hidden by four different video feeds from four different terraformed planets. Each one was split into and a planet sized silver dragon without wings clung to half of the planet. If it wasn’t for the difference in how the planets looked, they would have thought it was the same creature in each view.

“Move aside,” Garett said, pushing Mandy out of her seat.

“What are you going to do?”

“Selling my shares. Short this company and get the hell out of Dodge,” Garett said, pulling up his investment portfolio next to the ferocious wingless dragons.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Every man for himself.”

“But what about those creatures? We need to alert the Galactic Naval Fleet.”

“Done,” Garett said with a final tap on the keyboard.

“You contacted them already?”

“No. I sold my shares. You want to contact them, here you go.” Garett tossed her the radio that she fumbled in her hands.

“Garett, you are a coward,” Mandy said, watching him make his way to the door. 

“No Mandy, I’m smart enough to see a once in a lifetime opportunity when it comes around.”

“This is a catastrophe, not an opportunity.”

“Not from where I’m standing. Have a nice life kid,” Garett said and the door closed behind him.

Mandy stared down at the rugged radio in her small hand. The static on the other end became deafening, yet paralyzing. Her thumb hovered over the talk button on the side while her grip tightened. The dragon-like creatures roared into the void of space, but instead of silence, Mandy heard their terrifying cries over the radio static. She dropped her radio, because their cries were not incoherent screams of a monster. They said a name. Mandy.

UEA Tugboat

“Say again, UEA Tugboat. Say again,” the commander said.

“Look what we found. Ain’t she a beaut?” the voice on the intercom said.

The video feed in front of the commander showed a giant warship the size of a city being pulled by a yellow ship the size of a suburban house. Side by side, it looked like an ant carrying a dead raccoon.

“UEA Tugboat, what are you doing with an alien warship?” the commander asked.

“I’m bringing it back for your science nerds to take a look at. I figured I should have someone give it a once over before I take it out for a spin.”

“UEA Tugboat, please change your channel to 197.”

“Aye. Aye. Commander.”

The commander pressed a button on the console in front of him and put a small device in his ear.

“This is Commander Travion. Do you read me?”

“I read you loud and clear, T-Rex.”

“Steve. You’ve got to stop acting so unprofessional on the comms.”

“Come on. At least I didn’t use your real name on the main channel...again.”

“Where—no how did you get your hands on that warship?”

“The how is easy, I just hooked it up and away I went. Nobody was home, so I helped myself to it.”

“Where did you find it?”

“Um...with all due respect...isn’t it obvious?”

“No, it is not obvious. That is the biggest warship I have ever seen.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It is really cold and you have been here before.”

“Huron IV? Worland Centari?”

“Nope.”

“Those are the only ice planets I have been on.”

“Who said it was a planet?”

The commander rubbed his forehead. “I swear to God if your answer is space I am going to court martial you.”

Nothing came over the comm except dead air.

“Dammit Steve, you don’t even know where you found it?”

“It was floating out in space. Everything is dark. Kinda hard to get your bearings out there.”

“That's what your computer equipment is for, Steve.”

“Yeah I know. It was super helpful getting back here.”

“You didn’t think to make a note of where you found it? Did you even scan it?”

“Of course I scanned it. Did it with my own two eyes. No lights were on and no one was home.”

Suddenly the alien warship lights turned on all at once, glowing like a large city at night. The commander turned around to his crew behind him, who were all sitting at their stations. Their eyes all looked to the commander, unsure of what to do next.

“Get those railguns up. Contact the Earth Defense Force and let them know an alien warship has entered our galaxy, likely hostile. We need naval groups fourteen and seventeen here as soon as possible,” the commander barked at his crew.

“Don’t worry Commander, I’ll handle this.”

“No Steve, you have done enough damage. Come back to Lunar Base to help with evacuation.”

“I can’t...hear...you...breaking up,” Steve said.

Steve disconnected his grav-link to the warship and flew around over the top of the warship. Below was like looking at an aerial view of a city, with little insects running about. He rotated the ship around, pointing it down at the monstrous ship.

“Steve, what are you doing? Get back here now. They are starting up their lasers,” the commander said.

“Commander, I made the mistake of bringing the Trojan Horse to Rome. Let me do what Caesar’s guy couldn’t.”

“Steve…”

“Tell my cat I love him!”

Steve pushed his joysticks forward and his ship hurdled toward the unsuspecting warship below. His ship went right through the hull of the warship like a rock through sugar glass. Each layer he went through, his ship lurched in a different direction and slowed down until he hit the last layer. He was thrown forward in his seat, hitting his head against the controls. Flaps on all sides of his ship opened up and shot flares in every direction. Most deflected off metal structures with no harm, while others caused secondary explosions. He got control of his joysticks and flew back out the hole he made. In his wake were explosions going off at each floor, shaking his ship violently.

The commander watched the giant explosions from his video feed until one giant explosion consumed the entire warship. He looked away and held his ear. “Steve! Steve!”

No sound came over his earpiece. The rest of the crew was silent, stunned by the enormous devastation on the screen. The commander looked back at the screen, but there was nothing left except the debris of the warship floating in space.

“Steve, why did you have to do that?” the commander said to himself before pounding the console.

Static came over his earpiece followed by a humming sound. Not like an annoying humming that came from a defective machine, but of someone singing a catchy song about a yellow submarine. It was Steve.

“Steve. Steve is that you?”

“Commander, no need to tell Mittens I love him. I’ll be home soon.”

The Geese

“Prime Minister, the Geese? You can’t be serious?” Minister MacAulay said.

“You heard me.”

“Surely we can try something else? Maybe contact the Americans?”

“No. All they will do is bring us into a war that will never end. This needs to be handled swiftly. Ruthlessly.”

“But the Geese, sir? Aren’t you worried about civilian casualties?”

“Our people know to stay out of their way. The aliens don’t. Our people will be safe.”

“But…”

“This discussion is over. Alert Commander Eyre at once.”

Minister MacAulay waddled out of the office and pulled out his cell phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he clicked on the name John Wayne and the dial tone rang in his ear.

“Lawrence, how are you my good man?” Commander Eyre asked.

“Release the Geese.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is straight from the Prime Minister himself.”

“He must be out of his mind?”

“I’m afraid he is not.”

Commander Eyre did not answer. Minister MacAulay moved the phone closer to his ear and looked at the ground.

“Wayne? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you...God have mercy on our souls.”

The phone beeped twice and the call ended. Minister MacAulay walked to the adjacent mahogany door and entered his office. His bookcases flanked him on both sides, filled to the brim with stories of war and loss. In front of him, the sun shined through the window, highlighting his pristine desk. On the desk was only a laptop and a cardboard box with a lamp sticking out. The room began to dim as cloud cover blocked the sun and he heard a sound coming from outside. He ran to his desk and looked out the window, up toward the clouds. But there were no clouds. Only geese. The grey feathered cloud turned the land into night, their choir of honks sent a shiver down his spine.

“What have we done?”

Tour Guide

Kenny squinted. “You need a tour guide?”

“Yes. You do work for the hotel? Don't you?” the alien said.

Kenny looked down at the short green alien that looked more like a kid wearing a little red Hawaiian shirt with sunglasses. His little green feet were consumed by the fine sand of the beach. Behind him was the alien’s wife, Suzu, picking up a blue towel. She was dressed in a pink sundress and an over-sized white hat that also seemed odd for such a small green alien to wear.

“Gooey, did you find us a tour guide?” Suzu asked.

“Well slick, what do you say? Give us a tour around the island?” the alien said to Kenny.

“Okay...Gooey,” Kenny said, still trying to process how an alien booked a room at a hotel.

“My name is Gorzon. Only my wife calls me Gooey,” Gorzon said, wrapping his arm around her as she walked up next to him.

“Alright Mr. Gorzon. Where would you like to go?”

“You're the tour guide. Lead the way.”

Kenny walked up the beach, back to the company jeep. The logo of Angel Beaches Resort was plastered on the side of the white door. Kenny opened the back door and helped the two into the backseat. Suzu cuddled next to her husband in the back, draping the blanket over them both.

“Oh, isn’t this romantic Gooey? Taking a ride on a slow moving craft around the beach,” Suzu said.

“It sure is,” Gorzon said, holding her close.

The jeep came alive at the turn of the key and Kenny started driving down the windy paved road. All around them was the natural beauty of the island. Palm trees swayed in the breeze, while the colorful flowers on the side of the road waved to them. A large cliff side rose above them on their right and on their left was a deep valley overseeing the tropical forest below.

“Hey guide, aren’t you going to tell us about each location?” Gorzon asked.

“Um...sure. On your left you will see a valley,” Kenny said, unsure what he was supposed to say.

“There is no name for it?”

“Yes...it is the...Spring Valley. Known for its...um...plants and exotic animals.”

“Oooh, like what?” Suzu asked.

“Like lizards. And...deer?” Kenny said, shrugging.

“Deer? Really? I never knew deer lived on the island,” Suzu said.

“Yeah most people don’t. But they are nocturnal so you won’t see them,” Kenny said, trying to sound confident. He was unsure if deer lived on the island, let alone if they were nocturnal.

“Fascinating,” Gorzon said, trying to peek farther out of the jeep.

Kenny drove for the next few miles, making up a name to a different “landmark” and backstory every quarter mile. He did that to stop Gorzon from asking what every car they passed was. After the fifth car, Kenny realized Gorzon could not grasp the concept that because a car looked different and had a different color, it was still called a car. It also distracted him from the horrible smell that they gave off. He didn’t notice it before, but every second they were in his jeep, the smell got more pungent. It smelt like a bottle of grease and moldy cheese spilled in his vehicle. Even the open air didn’t help the stench. Eventually, they arrived at the other side of the island to another beach almost identical to the first one.

“Alright, here we are.”

“We are back at the beach? That was a quick tour,” Gorzon said, opening the door.

“Yep. It is a small island.”

“Well I’ll say,” Suzu said. “Oh Gooey, you spilled my drink.”

Kenny looked in the back seat to see a small silver can tipped over and a black liquid soaking into the floor mat.

“I’m sorry dear, I’ll get you a new one when we get back at the hotel,” Gorzon said.

“I’m so sorry, mister. I don’t think that will come out,” Gorzon’s wife said to Kenny.

“It’s okay. It’s the company vehicle. Someone will get that cleaned up,” Kenny said.

“Well I insist on paying for the damages. I remember the last time I spilled one on the rental ship we got. They had to rip out the entire panel to get the smell out.”

Suzu reached under her blanket and pulled out a small sack of gold coins.

“You still take gold?” she asked.

“Um...yes,” Kenny said, shocked he was getting paid in gold.

The two aliens hopped out of the jeep and left him the sack of gold. They waved goodbye and went down to the beach to find another nice spot to soak in the sun. Kenny looked inside the small sack. It was easily worth twice his salary for the year. He drove away with a smile on his face, ignoring the horrid smell in the back. Who would have thought giving tours could be so lucrative?

FTL Speed Limit

Malcolm shot awake, banging his helmet against the glass windshield above him. Laying back in his leather seat, he removed his gloved hands from the single joystick just below his crotch. His hands floated freely while the rest of his body was still strapped in. He looked out of his ship to see an emerald green planet with strange looking satellites floating around it and enormous spaceships coming and going from the planet. It was a lot to take in for poor Malcolm.

"Command, are you getting this? Command?" Malcolm called over his radio. No response was returned. "Where am I?"

Suddenly something knocked on the glass. Malcolm turned his head and floating next to his small pod ship was an orange alien dressed in a blue spacesuit similar to Malcolm's and held a tan rod in its seven fingered glove. The alien rapped on the window again. "Roll down your window, sir."

Malcolm's breathing became shallow and fast. A real live alien. He was unable to stop looking at the alien's eyes, which looked like Earth's moon surrounded by black space. 

"Sir, roll down your window."

Malcolm shook his head, unable to hear what the alien was saying.

The alien stuck his rod into the crease between the glass and the body of the ship, lifting the glass away from the ship. Malcolm held on to the straps on his seat and dug his heels in. He looked down briefly to make sure his white spacesuit didn't have any breaches. The aliens tossed a silver disk to Malcolm that stuck to his helmet like a magnet.

"Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?" the alien's voice rumbled in Malcolm's helmet.

"You pulled me over?"

The alien pointed its rod at him. "Don't be a smartass with me."

"What's going on? Where am I?"

"I caught you going FTL in residential space. I need to see your license and registration."

"License? Registration?"

"Sir, don't test me today. Give me your license and registration."

"I don't have any."

"Okay sir, get out of the vehicle.”

Malcolm shook his head. "I can't."

"Sir, get out of the vehicle," the alien raised its voice.

Malcolm reached for the glass in front of him. The alien slammed it’s rod down on Malcolm's forearms and ripped him out of his seat, snapping the seat straps with ease. Malcolm winced in pain, but kept his voice to a dull mumble. The alien pushed Malcolm against the ship and proceeded to handcuff him.

"Alright sir, you are under arrest for failure to comply with a Galactic Officer's lawful order. Additional charges include failure to produce license and registration, reckless endangerment, and resisting arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say and don't say will be used against you. You have a right to ask for a trial, but you must provide your own attorney. If you cannot afford one, you have one day to prepare your own case. Do you understand your rights?”

"This is a big misunderstanding. I'm a test pilot from Earth."

"They all say that," the alien said. The alien touched its own helmet and spoke. "Twelve Niner David to Dispatch, contact Impound. I have a small ship at Quadrant Seven that needs pickup. One in custody.”

"Copy. Impound en route. Head to Sector Five for prisoner processing," a voice responded.

The alien floated back to its sleek blue, white, and orange fighter ship with Malcolm. Malcolm looked back at his own ship. It floated there mocking him. Reminding him that there was a cost to greatness. That sacrifices must be made for progress.

Humans Strike Back

The tapping of boots echoed down the corridor. A man in an unflawed white uniform matched toward an open with a grumpy frown on his face. 

"Where are we at with those rail guns?" Lieutenant Farsi yelled down the empty corridor, walking toward the open door.

Ensign Parker banged his head on the shelf in front of him. "Almost ready, sir. About ten minutes." 

Lt. Farsi stopped. "Make it five. I want those guns ready once we are out of hyperspace. Can't have those Russians beat us to the punch again."

Parker held his breath and listened for his lieutenant's footsteps. Lt. Farsi walked away, going back the same way he came, not bothering to check on him. Parker peeked around the doorframe and let out a sigh.

"Is he gone?" Ensign Salazar asked, his head lifting the cover of the large crate he was in.

"Yep. He's gone."

"Good. Now help me out with this will ya?"

Salazar pushed the cover off and lifted a green humanoid body from out of his crate. Slime stuck to his hands while he struggled to lift it over the ledge. Parker grabbed a hold of its arms and pulled the body out of the crate. It slapped the floor like wet meat on a granite table top.

"What are we doing with this alien?" Parker asked. 

Salazar climbed out of the box, stepping on the squishy alien. "Giving it to the Russians."

"Why?"

"Congratulate them on killing another alien fleet."

Parker raised his eyebrows. "I'm not sure this translates as congratulations...in any language."

"Don't worry, she'll get it."

"She?"

"Svetlana. My girlfriend. She is the captain of the ship we will be meeting up with.”

"She's our competition. Lieutenant Farsi wasn't happy the last time we–"

"Oh, I'm Lieutenant Farsi. I'm grumpy because those Russkies killed a whole naval group without me," Salazar mocked.

"You do remember whichever country's naval group kills the most aliens gets to decide the official language of Earth."

"Doesn't matter to me. Svetlana has been teaching me Russian. I'll be fine."

"I bet you don't know two words in Russian."

"I sure do, друг."

"Droog?"

"It means friend."

"Is he your friend too?" Parker said, pointing to the dead alien on the floor.

"Oh that's right. We probably should get him out of here."

"Where do you plan on putting him?"

"Are those railguns ready?"

"They've been ready for hours," Parker said. "You still didn't answer my question."

A smile creeped over Salazar's face. "Didn't I?"

They both grabbed the alien, one on each end and carried the alien down the corridor and to the left. It led to a long hallway with hatch doors along the wall. Across the hall from each hatch, recessed in the wall, were stacked bronze cylindrical rods. The rods were as wide as their heads and longer than their forearms. Staring at them was the fire team crew, one at each hatch. The crew watched Parker and Salazar waddle past with their dead alien friend until they got to the fifth hatch to the left that no one was at.

"Don't tell me you're going to load that poor schmuck in there?" the crew member next to them said.

"You didn't see anything," Salazar said. 

"You better go quick then. Lieutenant will be here soon."

Salazar opened the hatch and Parker helped load the alien into the chamber. They tucked in his legs and threw their weight behind the hatch to close it shut.

"How do we aim this thing?" Salazar asked.

The crew member next to him looked both ways. He stood next to them and jumped up grabbing a handle above them. It brought down a screen with a video stream of the space outside. The stars were dwarfed by the enormous ship that was facing them. A giant glass window stared back at them, showing the flight crew at their consoles and Svetlana standing at the window.

Salazar touched the screen to zoom in on her. Perfect posture, head up and her chest puffed out in her tight white uniform. Her brown hair was tied back and hands behind her back, like she was evaluating something.

"Hello, my sweet," Salazar said to the screen, running his finger where her face was. The screen's smooth texture reminded him of her skin, minus her warmth.

"Are we going to fire this or what?"

Salazar looked around the screen. "Oh yes. Here we go."

He tapped the screen twice and the screen prompted him with a red button that said FIRE. He pressed the icon and the alien sailed into the vacuum of space, splattering against the glass in front of Svetlana.

She jumped away from the window, bracing herself against one of the consoles. The flight crew looked up from their consoles to see what hit the ship. Svetlana's face turned from shock and confusion to a gentle smile. She gave a short wave in return and the side cannons on her ship fired out toward the alien fleet that was outside of their view.

"Why aren't we firing at the alien fleet?" Lt. Farsi said storming into the hall.

"We haven't turned broadside, sir. Our cannons are still facing the Russian ship," one of the crew members said.

"Oh, what the hell," Lt. Farsi said, leaving the crew to go chew out the pilot. 

Salazar took one last look at his angel on the other ship and pushed the screen back up into the ceiling.

"I hope it was worth it. We might all have to learn Russian after this is all over," Parker said. 

"It was worth it. And thank you for going out with Jessica. Without her, I don't think this would have happened."

Parker blinked rapidly. "Come again?"

"Yeah, I told Jessica you would go out with her if she didn't turn the ship when we got out of hyperspace."

"Crazy Jessica? The pilot?"

A small disk on Salazar's belt vibrated. He unclipped it and pressed the middle of it. A beam shot out, revealing a hologram with a list of coordinates. At the bottom it read: Next time just send flowers.

"Maybe don't call her crazy on your date. Kinda kills the mood," Salazar said, walking away.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To smooth things over with Farsi. I think he will like a list of known alien fleet coordinates," he said holding up the hologram. 

"I'll come with you."

"You don't have time. You have to get ready for your date," Salazar said, winking.

Human Bites Zombie

"You want us to do what?" Franklin said, taking off his glasses.

"Just take a bite. Like you would a hamburger," Greg said.

"But this isn't a hamburger. Greg what you're talking about–"

"Is what? Not sanitary? Not normal?"

"Complete insanity!"

"Oh, so they can bite us, but we can't bite them? Sounds like a double standard if you ask me."

The grotesque man in the jail cell rammed the bars. He reached his decaying arms out to grab them, but his arms were not long enough. His moans echoed in the small room, longing for their flesh.

"You want to eat a zombie? Fine. Go for it!" Franklin said.

"I didn't say eat...only bite a little."

"I'm not doing it."

"I see you're not convinced. I'll show you how it's done."

Greg turned to face the zombie still grasping at air. The zombie's skin was a puke green hue and puss oozed from its cheek. Greg took off his loud Hawaiian shirt and wrapped it around his hand. He grabbed ahold of the zombie's hand like giving a handshake. The zombie dug its chipped fingernails into Greg's covered hand, unable to reach the skin. Greg swooped his head down to the zombie's forearm and sunk his teeth into the zombie's squishy flesh. The skin gave way like Fruit Gushers, squirting a liquid into Greg's mouth.

Greg released the zombie from his bite and stepped out of reach. The zombie stopped trying to get at Greg and backed away from the bars. The zombie rubbed its skin where Greg bit it and the skin peeled off, revealing tan, healthy skin underneath. The zombie kept rubbing up its arm, revealing more normal human skin underneath. This continued until what stood before Greg and Franklin was no zombie, but a person. 

"What...happened?" the former zombie spoke.

Greg wiped his mouth with his rolled up shirt. "You have been cured my good sir. Just let the record show, Franklin was going to kill you.”

"I never said that."

The former zombie shook his head. "Cured? From what?"

"You were a zombie. Franklin didn't want to save you, so I took it upon myself. No need to thank me though. It's kinda my calling. Like a doctor. Or a race car driver," Greg said, putting his shirt back on.

The former zombie held his head and closed his eyes. "I'm so confused."

"Don't worry, so is Franklin here. I'm going to head out, Franklin will catch you up. Might even find you a job with that cute girl who makes those amazing deer sausages. What's her name? Wendy?" Greg said, walking backwards to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Franklin asked. 

Greg reached into his pocket and put on his aviator glasses. "To save the world.”

Cost of Insubordination

The hiss of pipes losing pressure overhead screeched down the corridor. Kendal stumbled into the concave wall next to him, while the ship lurched from the blast outside. The lights flickered three times then turned red. Darkness filled the rest of the void the red light would not. The metal pang of his boots hitting the floor announced his presence as he made it to the door at the end.

The sliding door jerked open to reveal the flight crew trying to deal with the real chaos. Yala and Tenso were grappling with a large duct hose that was flailing in the air, filling the room with steam. A different thinner cable was dancing with the Captain while he tried to avoid getting zapped by the sparking end. At the four consoles, only Zenith was at her's. Her feet were tucked toward her chest while she sat at the console. Underneath her, Ronny was head deep inside the console banging away at something.

"Kendal, give me a hand with sparky here," Captain Carson said.

Kendal squeezed past the consoles and ducked under Yala's butt as she was lifted in the air with Tenso by the steam tube. He caught a whiff of the bean casserole she just ate and held his hand over his mouth.

"Kendal. Any day now?" Carson said, dodging another strike from the sparky viper.

Kendal grabbed the cable above his head with both hands. Then he slid his right hand down toward the sparking end. The cable calmed from wild flailing to light spasms. Carson made a step with his hands and hoisted Kendal up to reattach the cable. Sparks from the cable made it easy for Kendal to see where the cable went. He pushed the end into the socket and gave it a turn. The cockpit hummed to life and startup beeps came from the consoles.

"Consoles are back online. Get to your stations everyone," Zenith said.

Yala and Tenso were on the ground still wrestling with the mighty steam spewer. Their skintight grey jumpsuits were coated in some dark liquid that was pooled on the ground. If Kendal didn't know any better, the duct hose was using them as human mops to cleanup the mess.

Carson lowered Kendal down and turned to his struggling crew. "Get to your stations! Kendal and I will handle this."

Yala and Tenso both let go at the same time, scrambling to get on their feet. The tube whipped up and blasted Carson with steam, sending him flying into the unforgiving glass.

"You said you had it Captain," Tenso said, flicking a few switches before sitting down.

Carson groaned. "Yeah...I got it."

Kendal tackled the duct hose, squeezing both his arms and legs around it, trying to constrict it into submission. The steam sputtered to a cough, but continued to buck him around. Carson got up and went over to help, when the hose banged Kendal into the wall. His leg grip loosened, blasting another steam plume at the Captain, this time at his legs. Carson was upended and face planted onto the smooth floor.

The steam snake was not done yet, rocketing Kendal into the ceiling. Kendal got wedged in-between the metal ceiling and the hose that didn't want to quit. The steam blew up his nose, making him cough. He lifted the hose up above his head, along the ceiling and he heard a click. The steam stopped and he could hear it being funneled through conduit.

He let go of the hose and was suspended by his shirt that was caught on something sharp before it gave way. Kendal fell on something soft, the Captain. 

"Kendal...Why?" Carson groaned.

Kendal rolled off Carson. "Sorry sir." 

Kendal helped his Captain up. Carson's back cracked a few times until he stood straight up. 

"Hyperdrive is ready," Tenso said.

"Punch it. Before the Ecorians realize we aren't sitting ducks anymore," Carson ordered.

Tenso clicked the button at the same time an Ecorian fighter pulled in front to face them. It was basically an egg with thin wings on each side that held twin laser cannons below. The fighter kept getting closer with every second.

"Is he going to ram us?" Carson said.

"Um...I think we are going to ram him," Tenso said.

"Cancel the hyperdrive. Don't run through him."

Tenso mashed the same button over and over, nothing changed.

"I can't stop it!"

"Brace for impact!" Carson yelled.

Kendal held on to Tenso's console. The words of his previous commander filled his head...at least the ones that hurt the most, "If you just followed my orders, I could've protected you." Kendal closed his eyes, preparing to meet his fate. Their ship crashed into the fighter like a hammer to styrofoam. The fighter splintered in half, sending pieces everywhere into space. The pilot's blood smeared on the glass.

The crew looked at each other, shocked that they were still alive. Kendal opened his eyes to see the blood smeared over the glass.

"We're alive!" Yala said, releasing the console she was grabbing on to for dear life.

"Those Ecorians must make their ships out of tin," Zenith said. 

The crew laughed while Carson looked back at the stain on his window. The crimson smear marked the ship like a bad omen waiting to be awakened. He pointed at it and turned to Kendal. "Kendal. You got one more mess to clean up."

"I'm sure it won't be the last," Kendal said.

Ronny peaked out from underneath the console and threw up upon seeing the blood outside. Zenith rolled her eyes, unable to move without stepping in vomit.

"Now you got two messes. Aren't you glad you are stuck here with us?" Carson asked.

Kendal smiled. He was happy. Not about the chunky green sludge on the floor, but the crew he was with. They made what was supposed to be a punishment, a blessing. And an opportunity.

The Atlantis Contract

"What did you do with the Atlantians?" Grogdor asked, pointing his long finger at them. 

Ambassador Yi looked to his fellow Earth ambassadors. They shrugged and shook their heads. Yi looked back at the tall humanoid creature. "Atlantians? Who are they?"

"Don't play games with me, human. What did you do to them? The rightful rulers of this water world."

"Are you referring to Atlantis? Like the Lost City of Atlantis. The myth," Ambassador Stevenson said from the group.

"Myth? It is no myth. I visited the great city of Atlantis the last time I was here."

The ambassadors broke out in quiet conversation amongst each other. Grogdor watched their reactions to his revelation. They genuinely did not know about Atlantians.

"What year is it here?"

"2022," Yi answered.

Grogdor sat down and put his hand on his oval head. It had been so long they stopped using the Atlantian method. His skin turned from grey to a bright blue and became clammy.

"Did they pass down any knowledge to you? Anything?"

"I can have a historian check. I imagine whatever was passed down was not of much significance," Yi said.

"No treaties? Technology blueprints?”

"Oh no, nothing like that. Just stories," Stevenson said.

Grogdor paced back and forth in the room.

"Were there treaties signed? We would be willing to honor them, depending on what they say?" Yi offered.

"There were treaties. Thousand of them. For each of the different space faring civilizations. Now that the Atlantians are gone everything is void."

"What do you mean by everything?"

"I mean everything. We are all completely screwed. Is that the proper term? Screwed?”

"What happens when these treaties void?"

"For most of the treaties it means very little. But there is one that is a big problem. The treaty with the Darfrens."

"Who are they?" Yi asked.

"A small species, much like your raccoons, except far more intelligent and unforgiving. The Atlantians made a deal with them to research emerging technology in land/sea travel. Something small, fast, and could safely attach weapons on it. In exchange they wouldn't rape your planet for it's resources, or kill your people. Normal boilerplate stuff.”

"We are researching new technology all the time. I'm sure we can uphold this treaty."

"No. Now that Atlantians are gone and you don't have the document, you have no standing. Since my species also vouched for the Atlantians, we will also suffer for this."

"Surely we can renegotiate with them?"

"Sure. But who is going to co-sign? My people won't. Not after they hear about this. We were the only species that found them worthy of a shot. And your people have gone backwards in technology advancement. It is not a good look from an intergalactic perspective."

"But like you said, you will suffer for this too. Might as well help us get up to speed.”

"You are thousands of years behind from where the Atlantians were. You only have a hundred years left to bring them something. I was expecting to see a final product and more prosperous land. Instead all I see is pollution, ugly cities, and you still struggle to leave your own atmosphere."

"We will make something. Even if we have to dedicate all our resources. Just give us a chance," Yi said. The rest of the ambassadors nodded in agreement.

Grogdor looked into each one of their eyes. He could feel their collective will to succeed. Or maybe their desperation. 

"Fine. I won't tell my people about this, but you better have something. Darfrens don't take kindly to being cheated."

"We promise. On behalf of all humans on Earth, we won't let you down."

"Good."

Grogdor tapped the inside of his wrist and disappeared in an instant. In the time it took him to blink he was back on his spaceship, surrounded by his crew.

"How did it go?" Everelli said. 

Grogdor looked back at her without saying anything. The silence of the ship stayed just long enough for Grogdor to break a smile. She smiled back. The rest of the crew roared with laughter.

"They bought it. So gullible those humans," Grogdor said.

"Even the Darfrens bit?" 

"Didn't question it once. I can't believe they think there is a species of smart raccoons."

"What did you get them to do?"

"I don't even remember.”

Everyone let out another roar of laughter and their ship sped off into the vast cosmos like a comet in the sky to mess with another unsuspecting civilization.

Mechanic Jackson

“Come on up!” a voice said from the intercom.

The intercom buzzed and the solid metal door opened to a generic looking elevator like he had seen numerous times before. Jackson took one last look behind him. His black pickup truck stood alone, surrounded by rolling hills of sand and covered by the shadow of the imposing ship he was about to enter. Jackson entered the elevator with his toolbox in hand, ready to take on the challenge set for him.

Inside the elevator, the button panel was dangling by a bundle of wires and sparks flew out of the opening. Jackson put his toolbox down and pulled out a flashlight. He shined the light inside the dark recess to see a spider web of cables going in different directions. Moving some of the cables aside, he found the source of the sparking. A red wire was dangling above a metal prong, causing it to spark every time it swung into it. Jackson rummaged through his toolbox and found a needle-nose pliers. He reached in blindly with the pliers and reattached the red wire to the metal prong, causing more sparks and zaps. Smoke pumped from the panel opening and Jackson retracted his arm.

He waved the thick black smoke out of his face and lifted up the panel. The buttons were all lit up and he tried to put it back in place. Once he got it lined up close, the panel was ripped from his hands and stuck to the opening like it was a magnet. Jackson reviewed the buttons and they were not in any language he had ever seen. He pressed one that looked like an upside down lowercase H. The elevator lurched up and down for a second like it was stuck and made a low whining sound. Jackson was about to press the button again before the elevator shot up. He tried to brace himself and was forced into a squat from the upward force. It stopped just as fast, shooting Jackson into the air, hitting his back against the ceiling before falling back down. His tools crashed next to him, scattered all over the floor. Jackson laid on his stomach, holding his lower back while he groaned. He watched the doors open from the ground, while his client stood at the entrance to greet him.

“Hey you fixed the elevator! You really are a full service mechanic,” the green humanoid said.

Jackson pushed himself up to his knees and wiped off his grey jumpsuit.

“Are you Mr. Gorsen?”

“I sure am. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mr. Gorsen said, kneeling down and extending his blotchy green and black hand.

Jackson shook his slippery hand and began picking up his assorted tools. Mr. Gorsen went over to the corner to help him.

“So what is all this?” Mr. Gorsen asked, inspecting a phillips head screwdriver with a yellow and black handle.

“Some of my tools. I didn’t know what I needed for a job like this. I usually work on vehicles.”

Mr. Gorsen put another tool in the toolbox. “This is a vehicle.”

“Earth vehicles I mean.”

“I can’t imagine it is too different. This vehicle has a hyperdrive unit, three command consoles, and two main engine thrusters.”

Jackson shook his head. “Did you see what I drove here with?”

“No. My scanners have been fried for ages and my windows are dirty.”

“I drove a truck.”

“I don’t know what that is. Is it fast?”

“Not compared to this I imagine.”

“No wonder you took so long. I was wondering if I contacted someone on a different planet.”

“You landed in the middle of the desert, fifty miles from any town. Hard to get here fast without flying.”

“You’re truck can’t fly?”

“...No…”

“Sounds like you need to fix your stuff first. I can wait.”

“Let’s take a look at what you need fixed first.”

Mr. Gorsen escorted Jackson down a narrow, rounded corridor. The white walls were smooth like glass, while the floor was a textured grey. They went up to a white door with an orange outline along the edge that opened once they got close. The room contained only one item: the hyperdrive. It looked like a twelve foot long and five foot tall car engine. It had a row on each side with twelve pipes coming from it that ran to the ceiling. Jackson could see his reflection in the silver body. In the middle, the hyperdrive had three circular pistons on top about the diameter of his toolbox. Jackson ran his hand along the cool steel, amazed by it’s design and the roar of the wind going through the pipes.

“Who made this?” Jackson asked, still admiring the pristine metal.

“I’m not sure. It came with it. You act like this is the first time you have seen a hyperdrive.”

“This is the first time I have seen a hyperdrive.”

“Your vehicles can’t fly and don’t have a hyperdrive. What’s next? You’re gonna say your people still drink water?”

Jackson did not respond.

“Wow. Just wow.” Mr. Gorsen shook his head. “Whatever, can you fix it?”

“I’m not sure. What’s wrong with it?”

“The middle piston won’t go back down. The other two do, just not the middle one.”

Jackson plucked a large wrench from his toolbox and climbed on top of the hyperdrive. The middle piston was stuck in place and made a light grinding sound that he only heard when he put his head next to it. Jackson banged the top of the piston with the end of his wrench and it came alive, moving in sync with the other two pistons. The hyperdrive beeped three times and continued humming along like normal.

“You did it. How do I acquire one of those magical hammers?” Mr. Gorsen said, pointing to the wrench in Jackson’s hand.

Jackson jumped off the hyperdrive. “You can have it. I can always buy another one.”

Jackson threw him the wrench and Mr. Gorsen caught it with two hands. He stared upon it like it was a sacred treasure. The cold metal turned his skin to a darker green shade.

“Thank you. Now let’s get you paid.”

Jackson followed Mr. Gorsen back down the hallway and down the newly fixed elevator. The door opened to whirling sand blocking their view of the Jackson’s truck.

“Just over here,” Mr. Gorsen pointed to his left.

They walked out in the sand along the ship to a retracting door that resembled security doors at shopping mall stores. Mr. Gorsen clicked a button on the side of the ship and the doors retracted up, revealing a crate of gold bars stacked taller than Jackson. Jackson picked up one of the hefty bars with both hands. Smooth to the touch, except for the few sand particles that slipped in-between his hands.

“Is this enough? I don’t know how much $3000 is.”

Jackson smiled still looking at the mountain of riches. “Oh this is enough.”