Able Crewman Third Class Freen wrapped a tentacle around the handle of his mop, breathed a heavy sigh, and resumed polishing an already spotless deck. Join the Force, and See the Universe, his recruiter had said. If he could get his tentacles around that filbert’s neckflange—
The deck beneath him heaved, and sent him careening into the bulkhead. Cleaning solution slopped over the side of the bucket and across the deck.
“Beautiful,” he said as he rubbed the blossoming bruise on his head.
The sound of rushing flippers echoed down the corridor, which was soon crowded with techs and officers. All hurried in the direction of the lightdrive’s dark chamber, tracking through the puddle on the deck
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Freen got to his flippers and waved his tentacle tips. “You guys are tracking-“ He might as well have been invisible.
First Officer Moorick brushed by with Master Wan in his wake. Mooric’s face was drawn into a tight scowl, and Wan trotted along behind him, stammering “-put the lightdrive out of commission. The beam’s lost its focus and we’ve-” The pair disappeared around the corner.
Freen decided that as long as he was invisible, he might as well slip down to the galley and see if he could round up a hot cup of cack.
The galley was busy when he got there, but his pal Brill spotted him and waved him over with a beefy tentacle. Brill was one of the genetically augmented Heavy Marines. Taller and broader than any ordinary Barfarian, his skin was hardened into a segmented exoskeleton.
“Hey, Freen, what’s doin’?”
Freen pulled up a chair and plopped down. “Dunno, sounds like they busted the light drive.”
“Aw, hell. Guess we ain’t getting’ to Gleesion on time.”
The ship was definitely off beam, Freen could feel it. Traveling on a beam of light tended to stretch you out, but Freen without doubt felt retracted. He bummed a schmoke from Brill, and stared into his steaming mug of cack.
###
Bahl Kilith, commanding officer of the Barfarian Lightship Venture was not pleased. He skimmed over the preliminary damage report, but it was the drawn look on his first officer’s face that told him all he needed to know. “We’re off beam, then?”
“Yessir.” Moorick’s response was curt and correct, just like the first officer himself. “Master Wan reports the light drive is severely out of focus, sir. Best estimates are currently fifteen to thirty cycles for repair.”
“And the state of our stores?”
“Quartermaster Blueth reports current stores of proteins sufficient for eight to ten cycles, sir.”
The Captain sighed and rubbed his eyestalks wearily. “Very well, then Moorick, scout the surrounding area for a suitable location to take on stores and make the necessary repairs.”
“Aye, Aye Captain.” Moorick slapped his flippers together and brought a tentacle up into a crisp salute.
###
Freen paced the length of his quarters, tentacles knit behind his back. “I’m tellin’ ya, Brill, it’s just a basic disregard for our well being is all. The Force could give two paps about us, why else would they send us out on a busted up piece of gank like this?” He kicked at the bulkhead as a point of punctuation.
“I dunno, man. From what I hear, a light ship is a pretty expensive-“
“They can’t even keep the thing on beam! Although maybe that’s Wan’s fault. He’s a total gronat lover.”
Brill chuckled, “No argument there, buddy. He couldn’t find his excrement hole with both tentacles.”
“And a darktorch,” Freen agreed.
###
“Sir?” Moorick stood respectfully outside the doorway to the Captain’s quarters and waited until he was waved in before continuing. “Radiation Officer Dontec reports organized RF transmission from a nearby system, a sure sign of habitation.”
“Excellent news, Moorick, have you a system analysis?”
“Yes sir. The system contains four to five solid planets as well as a few gas giants orbiting a single star. The RF transmissions we are intercepting appear to emanate from a single celestial body, one of the solid planets. Lack of expansion from the home world suggests a culture in the primitive stages of development.”
“How long before we can get a full assessment?”
“Under atomic propulsion? At least five Cycles, Sir.”
“Very well,” Captain Kilith locked his tentacles behind his back and stared out the viewport. “Have the Navigatron set the course.”
“Of course, sir.”
“And order half rations, Moorick. The Lights only know when we’ll be able to resupply.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
###
Brill gave a forlorn gaze to the small mound of grey on his tray. “Half rations. Down to half rations. How’s a fella supposed to survive?”
Freen pushed his tray across the table; his grey blob had been barely touched. “Here, take mine, but gimme a schmoke, would ya?”
“Thanks, bud.” Brill tossed a thin metal cylinder Freen’s way, and began digging into the pile of Proteez with gusto. “Man, I just can’t get enough of this stuff.”
“Yeah, just like mamma used to milk.” Freen ignited his schmoke and took a long pull. “So, you hear any news?”
“Told us to get ready for planetfall in less than a cycle, so we must be somewhere.” Brill said around a mouthful. “I just hope that we still get some leave time, once we get to Gleesion. There’s this little place I know, you gotta see it man, they got some chicks from the outer arms that-“
“Brill! Gear up and get your ass to assembly!” A gigantic Marine sergeant barked at the back of Brill’s thick head. The sergeant spared a glare of contempt for Freen before moving on, looking for more of his troops. “Bronton! Put down the fork, son and get…” his voice was lost in the galley’s general din.
Brill stood and wiped his mouth with the back of a tentacle. “Gotta, go. Check you later, man.”
###
The light reflecting from the brilliant blue planet poured through the sweeping view port, bathing the command deck in a pleasant lapis glow. Mooick stood beside yet slightly behind Captain Kilith, allowing the simple beauty of the scene to wash over him. “Magnificent, is it not, sir?” he said.
“Hardly.” Captain Kilith snorted. “A pathetic little backwater, Moorick. You can barely tell it’s populated at all from here.”
“Yessir.”
“I have decided to name it Bilickstone, for Prince Bilick. It’s nearly as dull as he is.” The Captain smirked at his own cleverness.
“Yessir. I shall have the Navitron plot it so.”
“Lt. Hortac!” the Captain called out to his Communications Officer, a short, fat Barfarian with dark brown ornamental patches.
“Aye, sir.” Hortac’s eyestalks swiveled in the captain’s direction.
“Has there been any reply from the surface?”
“I’ve been transmitting standard interstellar hailing and salute protocol on all accepted wavelengths, but have had no reply, Captain.”
“Very well, inform me if the situation changes,” Kilith said, then mumbled to himself, “Damn savages probably can’t tell a salute protocol from a passing of gas.”
“Sir,” Morrick piped up, reading from a report coming across the Expressway, “Science Section reports suitable spot for planetfall has been scouted, access to liquid water and industry. Proteins and carbons are detected in abundance, and atmosphere is…” He squinted at his readout, “non caustic. Atmosphere is breathable.” A murmur of relief washed over the command deck at the news, but was silenced by a stern look from the Captain.
“I want the ship made ready for planetfall in less than eight hundred Passes, Mr Moorick. I shall be in my quarters.” And without further ceremony, the Captain turned and strode away, his flippers smacking the deck with authority.
###
“Hold on to somethin’ you hold dear, man. We’re goin’ in!” The thunder of atmosphere buffeting the exterior hull threatened to drown Freen’s voice, although Brill didn’t need instruction, he was already clamped onto one of the overhead rails.
“Whoo Hoo! I love me a planetfall, buddy.” Brill’s grin was ear to ear. “This is the kind of gank I signed up for!”
“Here’s to full rations and leave time.”
“You said it all right there.” Brill’s grin widened beyond his ears.
###
Dr. Greis pointed a tentacle to the display screen, and cleared his throat. “As you can see, the local inhabitants are squat, thick-limbed bipeds, hairy over much of their bodies (although more so on the tops of their small heads), with hard claws and teeth much like a gronat. Their eyes are tiny, and appear limited in range of spectrum to a very narrow band. They wrap themselves in multicolored textiles as protection from the environment, which they apparently have little or no control over. The bipedal stance and lateral symmetry being on a rough estimation somewhat similar to our own, I surmise that we may share a common ancestor.”
“Ghastly.” Captain Kilith shivered. “Master Sergeant Kruch, are your marines in position?”
“Sir, we have set up perimeter around the ship, all is at the moment quiet.”
Kilith turned to Hortac, the communications officer. “Any response to known languages?”
Hortac shook his neck flange. “No sir, We have been able to find no common language, audial, pheromonal, or photaic. They appear quite agitated by our arrival, my assumption would be that we are the first interstellar contact they have received in their recorded history.”
“Possibly so, Hortac. Do your level best. Perhaps some of the crew who have experience with animal behavior would be of use?”
###
“Unggh.” Brill threw himself down into his berth, which groaned in protest under his weight. “Two shifts on and one off is killin’ me, man. Perimeter guard sucks.”
“At least you get to see something outside. A sky over your head.” Freen put aside the gossip rag he’d been scanning. “What’s it like out there?”
“Um, it’s nice, I guess. The air is breathable.”
“Poetic.”
“Man, I gotta get some shuteye. Wake me up in a couple hundred passes, and we’ll grab some chow before I’m back on.”
###
Captain Kilith examined the metal cylinder, shook it, then held it up to his ear. “Most curious, Hortac. How does one use it?”
“Well, sir, having determined that communication between the native population is carried out through audible wave generation, I synthesized this conversational device allowing primitive exchange. You simply speak into this end, and audible waves are generated here.”
“You will be recommended for commendation, Lieutenant.”
Hortac beamed and puffed out his abdominal area.
Kruch, the marine piped in, “Communication now being possible, we have learned that the large body of water nearby is referred to by the locals as Lakeeree, the industrial center known as Cleevelund.”
“And the tactical situation, Master Sergeant?” The captain had already forgotten Hortac.
Now Kruch held the floor, and he did so with military bearing. “The Natives have situated themselves around our perimeter, and made several passes in small craft. They are displaying light armament, mostly metal sheathed vehicles. Some agitation is to be expected, due to the awe these pathetic creatures must feel at the sudden presence of a Lightship on their poor little world. However, I am confident that we are in no danger from any weapon they may possess.”
Very well,” Kilith said, and turned to his Chief of Mechanics. “Master Wan, how goes the repair to the light drive?”
“Work continues apace, sir,” Wan said, then nodded, as if that said it all.
“Yes, well. See that the pace is brisk. Dontec,” he turned to his Rad Officer. “Any further information gleaned from their radiographic transmissions.”
Dontec nodded toward Hortac, who was not only his superior officer, but a distant cousin. “Yes sir, thanks to Lt Hortac’s translation device, we have determined that they seem to believe that contact with their people was the sole purpose for our journey.”
Killith chuckled. “As if the consulate routinely outfits Lightships to visit the backwater primitives who inhabit barely productive worlds. The state of the ship, of course, will not be disclosed to them, and we will let them believe this to be a diplomatic mission if that comforts them in some small way.
“Gentlemen, resupply will be contingent on improved communication and understanding of the local culture. I have assigned a team consisting of First Officer Moorick, Doctor Greis, Lt. Hortac and four Marines and next cycle I will have them breach the perimeter, and attempt a parley with the local population.”
###
Freen sat on the edge of his bunk, rubbing his sore flippers. “Hoo boy, tell you what, the Old Man can be a hard case. If I get the decks any cleaner, you’ll be able to see through ‘em.”
Brill opened a can of Skele-Brite, and began spit shining his carapace. “Yeah, all they wanna do is impress the locals. I’ve gotta pass muster, get myself all parade ground ready, to go on some sort of escort mission on cycle’s break.”
“Yeah? Who you escortin’?”
“Bunch of big brass. We’re supposed to go try and find some food, I guess.”
“Man, you Marines have all the fun.” Freen leaned back and put his tentacles behind his head.
###
“Yes, Moorick, what is it?” Captain Kilith wiped a smudge of grey from his chin and set his napkin carefully beside his plate.
“Sorry to interrupt your meal, sir.”
“Not at all, please.” He motioned the First Officer in. “What have you to report?”
“The liaison team has returned with excellent news. Proteins are to be made available to us, albeit in the very raw form of slaughtered domesticated animals. I have discussed the rending of these into a useable state with Keloid, the dietary technician, and it looks as if a workable solution can be found. Provisioning can begin as early as next cycle, and should be completed within as little as six cycles thereafter.”
“Most agreeable, Moorick. And work on the lightdrive?”
“Master Wan reports all going exceptionally well with repairs, with an illumination index of well under one thousand photonic units being achieved in the dark chamber. Focus of the beam appears to be his primary concern at this point”
“Wan is a good man and I trust his judgment implicitly,” the Captain said, “however, all haste should be applied to the repair of the light drive. We should have arrived at Gleesion two cycles ago.”
“Yes sir.” Moorick looked down at his flippers. “There is another matter, sir.”
“Yes?”
“An Able Crewman, sir. By the name of Birha Sholk. He’s been caught pilfering items for trade with the native population.”
“Items for trade? Whatever for?”
“Seems that some of the crew have discovered that the natives are compatible with our own species. In a sexual way.”
Captain Kilith dropped his fork. “Damn me, that’s disgusting.”
“Nonetheless, several native groups have been making overtures at the perimeter, and seem to be much enamored of anything employing dark matter. Shoulk pilfered several dark bulbs and a can of blackout, and was caught trying to get them out to the perimeter.”
“Very well.” Kilith picked up is fork and shoved a heap of grey goop into his mouth. “Have Shoulk report to the Marines for disappearation.”
###
“I gank you not, man. They’ve got this thing they call a pulled pork sandwich; it’s literally the best thing I have ever put in my mouth. And that’s sayin’ somethin.” Brill was salivating just thinking about it, and flecks of spittle flew from his lips when he talked. “I’m tellin’ ya, it’s a crime what they do to the stuff once they get it on board and serve it up to us in the galley. And the music- with the wah wah wah and the boom boom boom, it’s like, tribal you know? I tell you, these furry little critters know how to party, man.”
“Pap me, I haven’t seen nothin’ but a bucket and brush for over twenty cycles. I’m goin’ nuts here.” Freen punched the side of his wall locker, then shook his tentacle in pain. “Oooh, that smarts.”
“Dude, I know the guy who guards the aft egress port, slip him a twenty credit chip and tell him you know me. Then meet me out at the perimeter.”
###
“Report, Master Sergeant Kruch.” Captain Kilith paced back and forth in front of the hulking marine, who stood at rigid attention with his eye stalks locked forward.
“Sir, it came to my attention that some of the crew had somehow smuggled natives on board, for the purposes of- entertainment.”
“Somehow. They somehow got the natives past your perimeter guards and the marines stationed at the points of egress? Go on.”
“Yes sir. Upon a thorough search, we found no less than twelve of the native species in various locations. All were rounded up and escorted back to the perimeter.”
“And yet there was further trouble?”
Kruch croaked in discomfort, and then swallowed hard before continuing. “A group of four additional stowaways, sir. They were hidden from us by some of the mechanical techs, and some sort of chemical intoxicant was involved. There was an issue with the translation devices and I believe our orders to vacate were misinterpreted.”
“And that caused the panic at the perimeter?”
“Well, by the time we got them to the egress port, they were all squirming and struggling a bit, and well, to tell you the truth sir, these natives are just not that elastic.”
“So?”
“So, one of their arms got detached. A complete mistake. The crowd gathered out there at the perimeter, well, they didn’t like the looks of that too much at all, sir. Not at all.”
“And that is when the disappearation occurred?”
“Yessir, my men reacted quickly to the situation, and leveled their disappearators at the group that was most agitated, then issued the general format ultimatum, which they ignored. We were given no choice but to begin disappearation.”
“And to what result, Master Seargeant? How many of the native beings were disappearated?”
“Probably not more than three thousand, possibly four.”
Captain Kilith stopped his pacing and stood looking out the stern viewports. “While I can find no fault in your conduct, Kruch, I must tell you that I abhor any unnecessary violence, and I think it a shame that these poor creatures had to be disappearated.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Very well. Do try to be more careful in the future. And keep the perimeter locked down as tightly as possible.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
###
“Come on, Freen, my orbs are getting’ crushed as it is, I can’t get you past perimeter tonight.”
“Not just me. Us. Listen, I’ve tasted the sweet life, and I’m goin’ for it, man.”
Brill shook his head. “I don’t think it’s cool, man. Seems like the techs are getting’ pretty close to finishing up with the drive, and-“
“All the more reason to get out there and party before we blow this rock. We’ve got one or two more cycles tops here.”
“Yeah, the Kruch really screwed the gonat with that whole disappearating thing.”
“No kidding, but look here, I’ve got a whole bag of dark torches and I stole a couple of Hortac’s translator things-“
“Hey! You wanna get your ass busted? You heard what happened to Sholk, right?”
“Sholk was a total filbert, I don’t plan on getting caught. Besides, I’ve got a Heavy Marine on my side.”
###
The command deck was thrown into commotion by the blare of a siren and the strobe of red light. Perimeter Breach! Perimeter Breach! the Securitron’s synthesized voice blared over the loudspeaker.
“Mr. Moorick, pull up a visual of the exterior.” Captain Kilith ordered. The viewscreen crackled to life with the image of a well organized group of uniformed natives advancing toward the ship. The Barfarian Heavy Marines retreated, disappearators leveled at the oncoming troops.
“My men are under strict orders not to engage, sir,” Kruch said. “They will continue to pull back until given the order to fire.”
Kilith slapped at the communication button on his command bar. “Master Wan,” he spoke into the microphone.
“Sir!” Wan’s voice crackled over the blare of the siren.
“Get the damn drive as close to focused as you can. We can fine tune the blasted thing when we get to Gleesion.”
###
Drums pounded, guitars wailed, girls danced and the roaring bonfire bathed the scene in warm red light. Brill stood on the beach, one tentacle wrapped around the waist of a pretty blonde and the other hoisting a red plastic cup that contained a recent discovery of his, his new favorite drink.
“Sho, Lana,” Brill said, his words slurring even through the translator. “I’m sho glad you nicesh people understand ‘bout that whole thing with the weaponsh.”
“Don’t you say another word about it, Brilly. Everyone knows that your Captain is some kind of tight ass. Show us how you can uproot a tree with your tentacle again. That was awesome.”
A shout of approval went out from the surrounding group.
“Yeah! Come on, Brill!” Freen slapped his back, sloshing beer from his cup.
“Alright, here goes.” Brill sat his cup in the sand and strode unsteadily toward a good size sapling. He wrapped his tentacles around the trunk and grunted. His eyestalks popped with the strain, but he eventually succeeded pulling the whole thing out of the ground, roots and all, to wild cheering from the partiers.
“Woo hoo! That’s my boy!” Freen whooped, but his celebration was cut short by a white glow building in the sky toward the east. A flash of brilliant white pulsed, followed by a beam of dazzling light stabbing at the heavens.
Brill dropped the sapling and looked at the column of light, then at Freen. “What the- Dude, was that what I think it was?”
“Couldn’t be anything else, man.”
“You think…you think they’ll turn around? Come back for us when they realize we’re gone?”
“You really think they would reroute a Lightship for a single Heavy Marine and an Able Crewman Third Class?”
“I guess not.” Brill knit his brows and looked down at the beach sand. He took a heavy breath, then said, “This is awesome!”
Freen tentacle-bumped his pal and handed him a fresh beer, then turned to the redhead beside him. “So Sandra, you wanna see how a dark torch works?”
