by Chris McCarthy

We find our heroes looking for help with a fast growing problem…

Captain Amanda Markley looks through the thick pane of blast-proof glass in the lunchroom door. Inside the room, it’s silent. For now. 

“What did you think the Magno in Magno-puppy meant?” Amanda asks.  

Winston looks over his captain’s shoulder in thought. “I guess I didn’t think about it,” he says, the circuitry of his neural signal conversion hardware and the mirror-like tint of its micro-electrode array barely visible behind his ultra blue left eye.   

“Well, did you think that maybe there was a reason the government blacklisted these creatures from interplanetary trade?” Amanda asks.  

Lisa, blonde-haired with lively eyes, mutters something inaudible. 

Amanda turns her ear toward Lisa, her eyes widened and her brow furrowed up in mock anticipation. 

“I’m sorry, what was that navi?” Amanda uses the shortened slang term for navigation specialist when she’s peeved, which means she uses it often. 

But if you asked her, it wasn’t her fault she was always at a breaking point with this crew of union misfits. The damn union. It meant no one could be relieved of duty anymore. It also meant captains often had a crew of people who didn’t want to be there, had few prospects for advancement but were also frightened to lose the small amount of security they had in the Intergalactic Legion—the perfect recipe for superior achievement, right? She almost scoffs out loud at this thought. 

“Did it ever occur to you two geniuses that the magno in magno puppy stands for, I don’t know, magnify, as in these puppies magnify twice their size every week in the first six months of their lives? 

Lisa slaps her forehead. “Oh, that’s what it means. Magnify. I should have known that.”

“Right,” Winston chimes in. “They get exponentially bigger. I forgot about that. Makes sense now because…he’s gotten so big.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you cracked the case,” says Amanda, nodding with a tight smile, “You’re a real Rizzoli and Isles. Next time, maybe research the blacklisted animals you want to smuggle across the galaxy and sell for profit?”

ROAAARR!

The mango-puppy, now the size of an adolescent bear, slams his face into the thick pane of glass. Everyone takes a step back.

Amanda rolls her eyes. “Now, what do we do when this beast grows so big that the hull of the ship can no longer contain it?” 

Lisa chimes in, looking over at Winston for his buy-in, “I’m sure there’s something, uh, structural we can figure out.” 

Amanda nods, incredulous. “Structural?”

“Yeah, can’t we just expand the lunchroom a little bit?” Winston adds.

“Expand the lunchroom?” Says Amanda, dripping with sarcasm. “Yes, let’s break down a wall and expand the lunchroom. The Space Occupational Safety and Health Administration doesn’t usually consider it safe to do construction projects without the proper tools while on a mission in deep space, but in this case, I think it’s worth the risk. Brilliant idea. That’s what you came up with in that metal head of yours?”

“Half metal head to be accurate,” Winston says, pointing to his right temple. “This side is fully human and I still have half of a human brain.”

“Clearly,” says Amanda, “Maybe if you updated your operating system and incorporated the appropriate performance optimization algorithms when you’re supposed to, you’d have some fresher ideas or at least one that made a modicum of fucking sense.” 

“Amanda, you know I’m old school,” Winston says, tapping his chest proudly with his right hand. “I’m a classic. Besides, union rules state…”

Amanda looks away, annoyed, then cuts into him, “Oh stop. You want to stay human because you’re in love with Lisa and your know she’ll only ever be with a fully human man.” 

Winston gulps in embarrassment as Lisa looks away, suddenly taking great interest in a tiny fissure in the high strength polymer composite floor. 

Amanda continues. “But the truth is you’re not human. You’re supposedly half human, but from what I see, it’s closer to, say twenty-ish percent. Yeah, let’s go with twenty-ish. That feels right.”

“Amanda, we can fix this,” Lisa adds. 

“Exactly. We can fix this and we’re going to,” Amanda says, definitively. “Salamander!” 

Salamander, a six-foot-five green humanoid Salamander and Amanda’s number two on the ship, pops his head around the curve in the hallway. “Amanda, yes I’m here.” 

Amanda gestures toward the lunchroom door, “Sal, we’re shooting this puppy out the airlock.”

Salamander takes a few more steps and looks through the glass. “Oh. Where did that come from?”

“Don’t ask,” Says Amanda. “Just start planning for airlock evacuation of our special guest. If one of these two wants to go along for the ride, so be it.”

Winston and Lisa laugh nervously. 

Salamander puts his hand to his chin. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it feels good to not be the one getting shot out of the airlock, but I don’t think this puppy shares my ability to go into deep freeze mode for thirty minutes to an hour. I’m sure you knew this is one of my natural attributes that was exacerbated by the mutation.”

“No, I had no idea.” Amanda says, looking at the nails on her left hand. 

Salamander processes this. “Oh… So you shot me out the airlock all those times without—”

“Sal, quit blathering and get to the point,” Amanda says, cutting him off. 

“Well, Amanda, it would kill it.” Salamander says carefully. 

“What do you expect me to do?” Amanda asks. “Get arrested the second we step foot off the ship at Androlenga Terminal after the customs lifeform scan upon our entry into Tumis’ atmosphere?”  

“There’s got to be another way,” says Lisa.  

Salamander grits his teeth nervously and looks around as Amanda seethes. He knows whatever they do will become his responsibility. 

“Can’t we just hide it?” asks Winston. 

“Hide it? That’s what you got?” Amanda asks incredulously. “Wow. OK. Androlenga Outpost is the most restricted, fascist outpost in the sector. We’ll face maximum penalties.”

BRRRRIIIINGGGG BRRRRIIIINGGGG BRRRRIIIINGGGG

Amanda is cut off by the alert echoing from several speakers down the hallway and across the ship. The bracing alarm is followed by a soothing male voice: Passing Karman Line of Planet Tumis, ninety eight kilometers above surface. Eight minutes from arrival at Androlenga Outpost. 96 kilometers above surface…

Amanda runs to the viewport on the other side of the hallway.

“What the—? Salamander, I told you not to enter Tumis’ atmosphere!”

“I didn’t.” Salamander runs over and looks out the viewport over her shoulder. A blue planet comes into view. It’s blanketed in green and pink ionospheric auroras. “I set the course for a wide orbital holding pattern just like you asked.”

“Then who the hell—?” Amanda’s face drops. “Sal, did you leave him alone on the bridge?”

Salamander hangs his head, “Yes. I may have slipped out to the heat room for a few minutes. The whole cold-blooded thing…”

Amanda closes her eyes in annoyance at yet another unpleasing response from her crew, then turns and runs down the hallway. Salamander follows closely on her heels. Amanda stops and turns back, accidentally knocking Salamander on his backside, but not noticing or apologizing. 

“We’re in planet Tumis’ territorial boundary so we’ve probably already been tagged by the lifeform scanners,” says Amanda. She wags a finger from Winston to Lisa. “You two. Take this monster to the brig. Our only hope is to play this off as an official job for Admiral Flake, not that he’ll go out of his way to defend us. Then get your asses to the bridge ASAP. We need to make it seem like everything’s normal or we’re screwed.” 

“Ok, we won’t let you down, Captain,” Lisa says, standing at attention. 

“Good one,” Amanda says, before turning to run down the hallway. “Salamander, what are you waiting for? Get to the bridge.”

Salamander runs after her. Winston and Lisa share an awkward look. Then Winston puts his hand on the door lever. Lisa nods, “I hear they like popcorn.” 

“Do you have any?” Winston asks. 

“Yeah. It’s in there,” Lisa says, nodding into the lunchroom. Winston looks inside. It’s quiet for now. He pushes the lever down and opens the door slowly.

——

Amanda runs onto the bridge and b-lines for the controls. Chase Markley sits low in the captain’s chair with his feet on the console, looking lazily out the glass viewport. 

“What did you do?!” Amanda asks as her eyes dance apprehensively over the data displayed on the translucent master control interface that appears as a large square in a section of the clear glass, which, with a flick of the finger can also be pulled off and turned into a twin holoscreen that a crew member can look at wherever they’re comfortable. 

Chase looks over at Amanda, his head resting in his clasped hands above his shoulders. “Huh? Oh I’d heard about the light curtains of Tumis and really wanted to see them. So I decided to move things along. Turns out they’re not that cool.”

Amanda looks out the viewport at the pink and green auroras then back at Chase, incredulous. “So you defied my orders and entered Tumis’ territorial boundary? You know how delicate this mission is, right? You understand our position in the Intergalactic Legion relies on our ability to complete this mission for Admiral Flake with no complications?” 

“Yeah, I do.” Chase kicks his muscular legs down and groans as he stands up and straightens out his back. “We’re here to find Baldrick and bring him back to Legion HQ. Easy peasy.”

“So relaxed. You narrowly avoided a death sentence for illegal smuggling four days ago!” Amanda says. 

“And got out of that trial being named your co-captain.” Chase counters. 

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s actually a true union designation. I’m gonna have Salamander look into it. But for now, I need to, you know, worry about saving us from mandatory ten year prison stints on the most fascist planet in history, because we’re carrying illegal cargo.” 

Salamander runs onto the bridge and looks over Amanda’s shoulder at the interface screen. He looks out into space then takes another look at the screen. “Um, Amanda…”

Amanda waves him off, “Not now Salamander. Adults are speaking. Or at least one is.” 

“That’s no way to talk to your father. Have some respect.” Chase says, turning around in his chair to face the inside of the bridge.

“We need to come up with a plan for when we definitely get boarded by customs for smuggling a blacklisted species…” Amanda says, breathing in and out in a controlled way, attempting to remain calm. 

“Oh. Is this about the magno-puppy?” Chase asks. 

“You knew about it?!” Amanda asks through gritted teeth. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think there was any harm in letting Lisa make extra money so she could finally quit this dead-end job and buy a pod home on Zantaria.” 

“What!? This is why you’re not fit to be a co-captain. I can’t believe you didn’t think this would be a problem. First thing I’m going to do when—if—we get out of this, is to get you decommissioned for insubordination.”

“I’m a captain, so who am I subordinate to?”

“You didn’t share crucial information about our crew with the other captain—me.” Amanda says. 

“It’s not my fault the crew isn’t comfortable talking to you about personal matters.” Chase says. 

“That’s not our job, Chase.” 

Chase turns to Amanda, sensing her deeper anger, “Let’s not be irrational.”

“The only thing irrational on this bridge is you thinking that t-shirt is flattering.” Amanda says, putting her face in her hands then brushing her hair back, composing herself. 

Chase pretends to brush off the comment, but looks quickly at his shirt and the thickness just above his waistline. He sucks in his stomach.

“Amanda!” Salamander yells. 

“What, Sal? Spit it out!” Amanda yells back.

“We have company.” Salamander gestures at the display then with his thumb and index finger expands the space it takes up on the glass viewport to twice the size. 

Amanda and Chase both look at the screen. It’s a clear image of an approaching vessel. 

“Oh, shit. We’re getting boarded.” Amanda sits down in the captain’s chair. 

Winston and Lisa run onto the bridge just as another alert TRILLS briefly followed by a computer generated woman’s voice this time. Red lights flash on the deck. Ship approaching. Preparing life support systems for additional boarding of five persons.

Amanda looks through the glass then at Salamander. “Five persons? Wait, is that…?” 

Salamander puts his hand to his chin. “Oh, this isn’t good.” 

Lisa squints her eyes. “That looks like an ambassador’s seal.” 

“Why would such a high level ship be interested in us?” Amanda asks the bridge in general. “They could have just sent a customs droid ship. I don’t…”

She’s cut off by the soothing female computer voice saying, “More data collected. The ship is the official vessel of his excellency Ambassador Edwin Trong. Prepare for an official boarding.”

They all look out the glass viewport. Coming into view is a small green ship with yellow lines on each side. 

Lisa leans agains the glass viewport. “An official boarding? Ugh. Those are the worst.”

Amanda turns from the viewport. “Does anyone even remember how to do those? Winston, look up the protocol. It hasn’t changed in a hundred years so even you should be able to handle the task.” 

“On it,” says Winston, “thanks for having faith in me.” Winston sits down at his console, then winces as he catches the sarcasm in Amanda’s comment. He puts one hand to his temple, leans back and closes his eyes, then thinks better of it. He looks over at the neural dock headpiece attached to his console to his left. He wipes off some dust and attaches it to the left side of his head, blue and red lights indicating the system has engaged.

“Wait a minute…Edwin Trong?” Amanda looks to the handplant device on her wrist. Photos of a nerdy thirteen year old boy pop up. She slides to one of the same boy, just a bit older. She slides through a few more images. “Shit, I went to school with Edwin Trong.”

“Then, maybe he’ll let us off without the mandatory ten-year prison sentence for smuggling,” Salamander says. This is a good thing.”

“No, Salamander,” says Amanda, “This is not a good thing. We were supposed to go to the Neon Gala together in year eleven, but…”

Chase looks over, “You went with that pretty girl with the bangs. What was her name?”

“Her name was… Edwina. Edwin’s sister.” 

“Oh, that’s right! I forgot about the carnage that cost him and his family—Amanda, you’re a true Markley.” Chase says, as the realization of what this scarring betrayal could mean. “Oh shit.” 

“Yeah, oh shit.” Amanda says wryly.

“Oh fuck us,” Salamander says, leaning down on his knees catching his breath. 

Winston stands up suddenly, a marked change in his confidence. “Ok, I downloaded the protocols. Amanda, you need to stand right at the center of the Intergalactic Legion Seal. Let’s go.” 

Lisa looks surprised, noticing the neural dock in Winston’s hand. “Wait, did you just do a system update?” 

Winston’s eyes cut into her, a new power behind his eyes, which now blaze a bright green. “Yeah. I’m fully updated. I figured, what’s the point of me halting my growth? What am I waiting for? Plus, now I know kung fu.”

Chase looks over, “Great line!”

Lisa’s eyes rest on Winston for another moment before she lets out an anxious breath out and looks out the viewport at the approaching ship.

“That’s a joke.” Winston smiles, then says to himself: “I have a sense of humor now!” Winston shuffles on the balls of his feet, his hands up in mock fighting position.

Salamander walks to the backside of the bridge. “I think I remember my official posture. It’s been a while but I think I stand about here. Standing frozen like a status is sort of in the DNA.”

Amanda hesitates but Winston grabs her gently by the shoulder and steers her toward the seal at the center of the bridge. “Over here, Amanda.” She follows him, surprised at his new confidence. 

Amanda follows his lead. “OK, everyone, do exactly as Winston says. If we perform our ceremonial receiving ritual perfectly, we might be able to buy enough time to…” 

“To what?” Chase asks. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know — we’ll be able to buy ourselves some more time. That’s all I have for now. I need time to think.” Amanda says. 

Winston claps his hands, “OK, everyone else, follow Salamander’s lead and line up behind Amanda. Lisa, come on. You too, hotshot.” He says talking to Chase. 

Chase lifts his eyebrows. 

“We have three minutes, guys. Let’s go!” Winston says, suddenly all business

——Three minutes later

Ambassador Trong walks onto the bridge wearing official satin robes of green and yellow. His attaches, Liam and Sturgis, enter behind him in a heightened dramatic way, stone faced, their eyes not connecting with anyone. A woman named Maritha, his pageant guard, walks just in front of the ambassador waving a green and yellow flag wherever he is about to walk to give him the pageantry he deserves.

Finally, after taking in the bridge for a few brief moments, Trong deigns to look in the direction of Amanda and her crew, who stand in the center of the bridge, all adopting the official postures of their rank and place. 

“Captain Amanda Markley. It’s been a long time since the Perihelion Academy.” Trong says. 

Amanda stands stone-faced and empty-eyed, like the rest of her crew. Save for Chase, who is no longer on the bridge. 

——

End Part 1

Copyright Chris McCarthy 2024, Graphics by Chris McCarthy with Imagen3.