Alice

"This is getting ridiculous," Ilise groaned from her temporary seat on the Darkstorm's dock. "We've been in space for how long now? Do you even know where you're going?"

Alice ground her teeth and tried to keep the irritation from showing on her skin or transmitting over to the rest of the crew. She had no qualms with it bombarding Ilise though. She was the source of it anyway.

As much fun as it was to watch the military captain struggle to win during their races, or try not to make faces at the food Alice delivered to her room every meal, or listen in on her thoughts when they strayed to Charyd’s physique, Ilise was impatient. And way too high-strung. And, sometimes, a little annoying.

Alice considered, yet again, sharing the military captain's thoughts with the newest anatomy of her obsessions if only to get Charyd to do something about it—Alice didn't need to know exactly what—and to get Ilise to stop bothering her.

"Where are we going now, anyway?"

"You'll know when we get there," Alice replied and tried to keep the anger out of her voice. A quick glance down at her hands where she was inputting coordinates revealed that her fingers were almost completely see-through. "You know," Alice started once her skin turned fully opaque, "We'd get there much faster if you helped Scooball with hooking up that stealth tech."

"It's stealth tech, not speed."

"And we're taking so long to get to our destination because I'm taking an alternate route. One to keep us off Cadoon, and other, radars."

Ilise suddenly straightened in her seat. "You're going to your home base, aren't you?"

"We," Alice corrected. "But yes."

"And that is...?"

"Far from here. We're about half-way."

"Oh, come on. Some of the soldiers had a bet going on where it is."

"Not you?"

"I don't gamble."

Alice laughed. "Says the person who has challenged me to race every cycle since you got access to the gym."

"That's not gambling. That's motivation to exercise."

"Whatever it is, I'm not telling you. Not yet, anyway." Alice had to give her credit. Ilise did not pry further and even remained quiet until Alice was done plotting the next five routing points and finished at her station. That silence made the irritation simmer away into nothing. Then it returned with a hot flash when Alice realized she actually liked the stuck-up military captain.

"Look, I have a few more things to do here. The only way you can help is if you change your mind about the stealth tech—”

"Nope.”

"—in which case you should just go to the mess hall without me and grab your meal."

Ilise tensed and Alice barely held in her sigh. Ilise had yet to join them for a meal.

Alice tried yet again, "And tell Polo to save me a dish. He said he’s making [random space dish name] today. I'll be there in a few."

“I’ll see you later,” Ilise finally conceded and left Alice alone.

Alice quickly switched one of her monitors to keep track of the military captain as she walked the halls alone, even as Tony's sprite kept dancing and bouncing all over the place, trying to distract her.

Polo

Polo was almost done with the swirls on the red grass cupcakes when the second oven’s timer started blaring at him. He did not remember setting but he did remember asking Tony to keep an eye out on the casserole he had dropped in there earlier.

“Thanks, Tony,” he said absently and returned to draw a heart on one of the cupcakes. The timer turned off and the volume for his show got loud enough for him to listen to. The contestants were being judged so he didn’t have to watch any more, but he did enjoy listening to them getting torn apart. Who used water for frosting??

“This is unsanitary!” He heard his favourite judge complain and he nodded along. Charyd was easy to ignore as the captain whistled while cleaning out of sight, taking his cleaning duties too seriously for the past few weeks, but Tony’s hologram was a different matter. Polo was used to the crew swiping food from him as he cooked but watching the figure of a young human male pouting over a red and green cupcake was strange.

“Looks good?” Polo asked without looking at Tony.

The hologram nodded and then let out the most dramatic groan Polo had ever heard in his life. Tony was so good at copying and exaggerating biological emotions. “Sometimes,” Tony started, “I wish I had a stomach. And I know what you put in there, so that’s saying something.”

“Thanks,” Polo grinned and put the final swirl on the anatomical heart design of the cupcake then finally got the space-junk casserole out of the oven. It smelled of ozone and grass and had a slightly blue tinge to the burnt tips. It looked perfect. Polo thought once more about auditioning for the Intergalactic Cook-Off but then remembered. He was a pirate. His crew were good enough judges.

The tarsi noodle dish should be done, the beetle limbs never took long to cook. If they were over-cooked, they would turn mushy, instead of their normal crispness.

There were also seared, hard boiled eggs in a seed oil to give a crisp taste while the tops remained soft. To compliment the mayo that would be topped onto them—so many eggs were required for this meal—Polo plated them on top of green and purple leaves. Scooball and Squilla were great about eating their vegetables, and with the right herbs added to their ownp plate, Mishupeshu would also join them. Charyd would only eat his if they were drowned in a mess of oil and buttermilk dressing.

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Polo was not going to cave in today.

He worked on plating each individual dish with precision and focus, adding a dollop of the water-based dressing Scooball liked to their plate while making sure to keep the magma-frosted flakes as far away from Alice’s dish – it was a deadly toxin to her species that added the perfect spicy crunch.

For a final touch, Polo used the barrel of his favorite RDM374-b rifle to spread golden flakes on Squilla’s and Charyd’s plates, then piped whipped ice on his own and Alice’s using a custom-made device made up of the spring from an old gun, the hose from a fire extinguisher, and the mesh from a gas mask.

“Remind me to clean the barrel later,” Polo said to Tony, the hologram standing still beside him. Charyd would yell at him if he covered their enemies in the edible golden flakes when he took a shot in the future. Again.

Scooball

Today was the day! Hair blown dried to the side, a recent razor setting of a two on the back of his neck, and the lines around his ears were perfect. His red tassel earing with gold bead glistened at him from its perch near the bathroom sink mirror. Life should glisten and beam like gold, not be dull like the darkness of space. He grabbed his bottle of water by the sink, chugging it in three gulps. A proper night sleep, bed made, and now properly hydrated, and Scooball had energy to steer the universe. He depended on nothing!

He picked up his work bag and the water bottle harnessed to it sloshed around, trying to throw him off balance. Stepping into the hallway, he could hear Squilla tapping away on her keyboard and some twangy music coming from med bay where the doors were wide open. Mishupeshu must have found some strings again. Charyd lost the bet during their game-time last night and would be busy crawling around and dusting the vents.

Scooball knew he was going to finally get some uninterrupted time to focus on what he loved doing the most. He headed straight toward the Pods by the entrance of the ship. By Pod 1’s entrance stood a blue humanoid who saluted at him.

“Would you care for some company?” Tony flashed a handsome smile.

“Your opinions are always greatly appreciated.”

“And your consistent punctuality is something even clocks of old dream of.”

The sounds of ticking echoed in the small room like that vintage grandfather clock higher-ups put in their offices. Tony opened the doors for him and then the hologram vanished. “I found a new playlist, just say ‘Play Tony’s Metal Bits’ and it will jam out for you.” The AI’s voice came through the Pod’s speakers.

Scooball snorted at the name. “That’s perfect as I weld out here.” He picked up the welding gun and its tank supply, checking the spool. “Did Squilla add any further requests?”

“Nope. She just closed the last tickets she put in the system related to you. She did, however, put in a new ticket asking about the stealth-tech.”

Scooball snorted and said, “Our military companion still hasn’t caved to her demands?”

“Those demands don’t do much good when Posey isn’t even allowed in the ticketing system.”

“Since when?”

“Uhh... since Charyd took over? He revoked her access and hasn’t reinstated it yet.”

“And does he know this?”

“With him? It’s a wild guess. Oh, but if you could do me a favor? I’d love to get you to check on an infrared sensor in the mess hall for me, when you’re done. Polo’s last experiment damaged something there.”

“I thought the damage was to the cameras. That that’s why you haven’t been joining us for dinner.”

Tony remained quiet and Scooball tried to hold back his sigh. He nodded to himself and then said, “I will get to that once I finish the repairs on this Pod.”

He walked past the sketched icon he did of a piranha over the Cadoon’s logo on a nearby panel. Art was not his forte, but he spent a few trips carving it out to get it close to Squilla’s design.

“Tony, did you get a peek at what Polo is making?”

“I did and my it's as ravishing as some fellows on this ship.”

“That could be good or mediocre.”

“Meant it was stunning. He just finished frying the blue-scaled lemur tails and even though I’d rather have not known what it was, it still looks delicious.”

“Then you’ll be joining us?” Scooball tried to prompt. He liked Tony. He knew Tony would make for a great addition to their meal routine with his quick wit and even quicker mouth. Speaker. Whatever.

“I do not need nourishment,” Tony finally replied.

Scooball checked the voltage, confirming it was zero before removing the caps on the exposed wires. He taped them next to the freshly soldered panel he did yesterday and put a new back up insulation kits. Careful to not touch them too much in case they set off. “Well, my social energy feeds off these interactions, so feed my and the rest of the crew’s souls. I’ll set you a plate. If you want, I’ll even pull the chair out for you so you can sit.”

Tony was quiet for a long time. “I’ll see if I have time.”

“Don’t force yourself, but I’m certain Charyd will be happy to have you there too.”

Mishupeshu

The tension of the of the nylon thread was too much, but the combo mix of steel and silk was perfect. It also tolerated their claws picking at it a lot longer than nylon would. Mishupeshu strummed the strings across the board again, the heavy weight and medium tension gave it a nice warm mellow sound. Their purr lined up in harmony to it and the vibrations were strong enough to be heard outside the med bay. With the acoustics in the ship—none of them have yet to figure out why exactly it was so easy to hear Charyd and Alice arguing when the doors of the dock were open—Mishupeshu’s newest composition would be heard by everyone.

“Red eyes, this works pretty good.”

Two gentle beeps sounded near Mishupeshu’s scratcher. That’s where their comm ran off to. Eh, they will look at it later. If anyone really needed anything, they would use Alice’s connection or the speaker system. Or open a few doors and start yelling. Mishupeshu cringed, pulled their ears flat to the top of their head, and tried not to listen in on the horrible, horrible scratching and tortured screams that Scooball considered music when cleaning. It was too close. Maybe Scooball finally finished up with the pod?

“You are the only person I know who wants to be as far away from technology as possible.” The AI pointed out through one of the med bay speakers. It was quiet enough not to hurt or disturb them, but loud enough to be heard even when Mishupeshu had their ears down.

The door to the med bay swished closed and the speakers started playing white noise. The mating calls and death screeches that Scooball was listening to earlier were gone. Mishupeshu relaxed, twitched their whiskers, and tried to force a fanged smile toward one of the cameras in the corner. Then, they focused back on their work.

They adjusted the tension on one string for their dombyra. “I don’t really need technology for most of the things I do,” they responded to the AI’s earlier comment. “It helps me be good at my job to treat everyone like a biological being instead of a cog in a machine.”

“Everyone is predictable.”

Mishupeshu scratched at the metal table nearby. “Then life is boring.”

A red dot of light suddenly appeared on the table, quivering, enticing them to pounce it. Mishupeshu’s tale twitching in response, and they shifted their ears back and down. Their vision became sharper, pupils expanding as far as possible. They hunched their back over the dombyra, trying to make themselves smaller and easier to hide. Even through all these biological reactions, Mishupeshu knew that this was a trap from the AI. Not real.

Not.

Real.

The mug by them fell on to the floor as they jumped up, throwing everything aside in order to dig claws into the spot where the light was a moment ago. It was gone. Mishupeshu saw it a few steps away and pounced again, then again, and again, chasing after the light as it danced all around the med bay.

Two high pitch beeps echoed followed by a laugh. “But predictability can be fun to toy with.”

The laser light made Mishupeshu run out of the med bay—the AI had done an amazing job at keeping Mishupeshu off the counters and out of the cabinets, so it wasn’t that big of a mess—and all the way into the mess hall where the others were already sitting.

There was an extra plate with fried decapus eyeballs waiting at an empty spot. The laser light disappeared just as Polo set out a plate for Mishupeshu with extra tuna chunks and then a pitcher of cold water for Scooball.