I grabbed the cookie jar and followed @bitchfrog to the common area to wait for the rest of the crew to arrive.

  @astrowave showed up next. The thunking sound of his thick body booming down the hallway gave him away. I stood to greet him, and before I knew what was happening, he had lifted me off the ground in a bear hug.

  "@kittyboy!" he cheered.

  After he finally put me down, his smile faded, and he looked serious. Like me, he was probably reflecting on our last encounter at the starlab. "Thank you for the memories." Asshole made the Yew sign at me when he said it, all sentimental and formal.

  "We all had our parts to play," I said. I used my fingers to show someone running in the air between us, and then I made my little running man explode like @astrowave had. "I'm glad you wanted to join me, and I'm kind of surprised you did."

  "I was surprised you asked me," his low voice resonated. "You may be a little odd at times, but odd is different, and different is good. I never thought I'd get the chance to be on a crew. Thought I'd try it out."

  I reached a hand up to his shoulder. "Well, thank you for the memories." I paused for dramatic effect. "Glad to have you here. Now grab a cookie! Welcome to The Pharaoh."

  "Do they have nuts in them?" @astrowave asked.

  "No. This is the universal cookie. 99.9% of the population should be able to consume it without issue."

  @bitchfrog chimed in. "Is that why they taste like paper?"

  "How do you know what paper tastes like?" I raised an eyebrow at her. Paper was expensive. She seemed to imply that tasting like paper was a bad thing. Expensive things always taste good, don't they?

  She shrugged at me. "Let's just say I get bored, and when I'm bored I like to chew on things. Hide your quantum pens."

  "What's this about quantum pens?" a new voice added. "We're not really going to use quantum pens are we?"

  I had to sign official documents now as part of mission logs, so sadly, I would have to figure out how to sign my name. "No quantum pens. Yes cookies. You must be @foxcutter, our hacker."

  @foxcutter could have been my younger brother. I'm not massively tall, just an average guy on the slightly good-looking side. I could blend into any cream colored object, and in many settings I would just be one more white dude. @foxcutter was like that, but slightly shorter, slightly thicker, with a trimmed beard and short dirt colored hair.

  "Biodatascientist," @foxcutter corrected me.

  Fine. So he was a biodatascientist. Whatever. Hacker. Biodatascientist. It's all the same to me.

  "Why don't you introduce yourselves, check out the ship, get settled, and then meet me in the briefing room in two hours," I instructed. I made it all sound super formal but casual. In the back of my mind, I still had to prove myself, to me and to them. I had to play the part of a Vanquisher, a leader of people. "We'll take a look at our first mission together and then head out."

  "I just warped in from Triton," @foxcutter began. "We were studying signals coming from Pluto. Looked like possibly an independent settlement out at the edges. Farmers or miners, or some combination of both. You'd be amazed at the people you find out there. I once picked up a signal for a bunch of mimes on tour."

  "Must have been quiet the signal," I said. "Get it. Quite? Quiet?" I mimed a belly laugh at my crew. They all turned and stared at me. I could tell I had some work to do if they were going to lighten up. I wanted a fun, but dedicated, crew.

  "Where's the cat," @astrowave suddenly asked, breaking the silence. He muttered it aloud while looking down the hall, but I had to assume the question was meant for me.

  "No cat," I clarified. "Did you see a cat?"

  "No," @astrowave said, "but I want to see a cat."

  I shrugged at him.

  "Seriously, you don't have a kitten aboard?" This time it was @bitchfrog. "You? @kittyboy? You don't have a cat? Honestly, I only accepted this assignment because I figured you'd have a cat."

  Those dumbasses. I couldn't tell if they were teasing me, but it sure felt like they were teasing me. At the same time, it seemed that they legitimately wanted a cat on the ship.

  "Only cat here is me," I said, chipperly. "But if you all really want one, I'll consider it. I'm just not too keen on it because ships blow up, you know. Like a lot."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  "Hopefully not this one," @bitchfrog said. Her human eyes made eye contact with mine, making me nervous.

  "Yeah, I guess if I am keeping a human alive, no harm in a cat as well." I didn't like this whole staying alive thing and not letting my ship explode. It limited some of the possibilities. "Like I said, I'll think about it."

  That seemed to satisfy them, but I could guess that at least two of them were going to immediately start looking at intergalactic adoption centers. Part of me wanted to stay and visit, but I was also not used to people on my ship, or people in general, so I wanted some alone time.

  "Okay then," I said. "I'll see you in the briefing room." I left them to get acquainted and told myself I should really scan the dossiers. Sometimes telling yourself to do something is as good as actually doing that thing.

  I headed off to the briefing room myself. I didn't want to call it the war room. By my logic, every room was a war room. I sat down in the captain's chair, marked by its red and white stripe down the side of its fake black leather upholstery. The chairs were arranged in a circle, around a virtual reality display that would project in the center.

  I pulled up the mission details on my personal HUD to get familiar.

  "See, @horus. I can follow orders," I mumbled.

  Mission 5.519.752

  Intel suggests suspicious smuggling activity of human cargo in the region surrounding Eros and Itokawa. Data from Starlab 41665.1 indicates possible test subjects for zos612 virus.

  Mission objective is to infiltrate the shipping operation. A contact at Bar None on Psyche can facilitate an introduction.

  Backstory. Your v90 Dominator has been retrofitted to look like a wealthy merchant vessel. You trade primarily in paper and dirt, but you came across someone you want to get rid of discreetly and intend to sell them off. Containers of paper and dirt are located in the cargo hull. The person you will sell is @bitchfrog. A human will command attention and interest from buyers.

  Good luck.

  I decided to bang my head against the display table in front of me. @bitchfrog wasn't going to make it my calculated nine days. Not with this mission in our logs. "Fuck me," I said aloud.

  I opened up a channel to @horus.

  kittyboy: "@horus, I did my homework. Are you serious with this mission?"

  I tapped my foot as I waited for a reply, my mind calculating scenarios. I had to figure out a way to keep @bitchfrog alive.

  horus: "I'm just your commanding officer, @kittyboy. I don't make the missions."

  kittyboy: "Why aren't we heading back to Starlab 41665.1? We should investigate what's left."

  horus: "We are. But you aren't. I know you want to be there."

  kittyboy: "I probably have a memoryshard there."

  horus: "Possible but unlikely. That area is mostly rubble now. Besides, it's a cleanup job. We have people for that. You're needed elsewhere. This is more important."

  kittyboy: "But my memories …"

  horus: "This is more important. You have to follow orders, @kittyboy. If they find anything near 1941 Wild and the starlab, you will be among the first to know."

  kittyboy: "Among the first. You mean when it is convenient for me to know."

  horus: "Welcome to the Vanquishers."

  I couldn't believe this, but it shouldn't have surprised me. I was still just a tool to be used. I opened my mission logs. I had just the one mission there, Mission 5.519.752. I added another private mission. Visit 1941 Wild. They could send me off, sure, but they couldn't keep me away forever.

  I added a second private mission to my logs as well. Rendezvous with Oblivion. It was only a matter of time before my catnip virus activated and the ship signaled me. I had to make sure I was ready. And I needed to figure out a way to get my crew on board with what I had in mind.

  horus: "You should reach out to other Vanquishers. Their union is called Dominion. You'll learn something, I'm sure, and you have time. It will take you about 8 hours and 46 minutes to reach your location."

  kittyboy: "So that's it then, huh?"

  horus: "Do the mission. We're counting on you. The rest has to wait."

  kittyboy: "What about this human problem? How am I supposed to keep @bitchfrog alive when I'm supposed to sell her off as cargo?"

  The thought made me sick. I'd have to try to remember not to kill every one of the slavers and human traffickers. Or maybe I could add that to the mission. Seek and destroy.

  horus: "You created that problem when you picked @bitchfrog. It was always going to be someone on your crew. You just happened to accidentally line up a compelling detail. Models on your success went up by 17.3% once you had a human aboard."

  How dare he put that back on me! I just picked semi-random people to be on the crew. I had no idea I'd be forced into trafficking them, made to do horrible things in the name of the Alliance Starmada. I suddenly regretted accepting the position. At least as a Wavepilot it was always just my ass on the line.

  kittyboy: "I'll deal with it."

  horus: "Don't forget, you're a Vanquisher now. You're not supposed to die. Good luck."

  Motherfucker!

  My anxiety was spiking, and I was starting to get a headache. Thoughts were spinning through my head, mostly about @bitchfrog. How would I protect her? Would she nibble through all the paper in our cargo? I was hungry and thought about finally getting my chicken waffles, but I knew my stomach wouldn't have been able to handle it. No need to start the mission off with diarrhea. Turns out bananas had been a good choice. Kudos to my subconscious.

  I had 98 minutes before I had to brief the crew. I decided now was a good time to break in my fluffy butterfly rug and take a nap.

  "You look like a human tomato," a voice cried out as I entered my quarters. It was my coffee machine.

  "Hey, Sassy," I replied.

  "You sound depressed. You should have some coffee!" it bleeped.

  "Nah, I'm going to take a nap." I removed my Vanquisher jacket, setting it on the desk.

  "Well bleep you then, you bleepidy bleep bleep sack of bleep!"

  "I love you too, Sassy."

  "If you loved me, you'd make coffee!"

  "Don't make me unplug you. I'll make coffee when I wake up."

  "You better!"

  I couldn't help but smile. Stupid coffee machine. It was a nice reminder of home, of my quiet existence on the i35. I hoped someday The Pharaoh would feel like home. I was still pretty overwhelmed by everything.

  But at least I have the comforts of home, I thought to myself as I lay down on my rug. I have my rug, Stuart the Plant, my squishy baseball, and my coffee machine. I fell asleep thinking of icebreakers to help my crew get to know each other, and I woke up hungry for hashbrowns.