The Galactic Plumber

The Galactic Plumber pt3: After everything that had happened, you'd think the universe would cut me a break. But no, space has a sick sense of humor, and today's punchline was me, Chief Engineer Logan, once again ankle-deep in disaster.

It had been three days since the shipwide sewage tsunami, and the S.S. Nebulon-7 was still in a state of post-apocalyptic funk. The water filtration system was barely functional, the toilets remained a crime against nature, and the entire ship smelled like a wet sock that had been marinated in a mixture of despair and bad life choices.

I was on my third cup of the worst synthetic coffee known to humankind when my communicator buzzed. Benny's voice crackled through.

"Uh, Logan? You might wanna come down to the science lab."

I groaned. "Benny, unless this is about a working toilet, I don't want to hear it."

"Well… it's kinda related?"

That was never a good sign.

I sighed and made my way to the lab, stepping carefully to avoid the still-damp patches of carpet that had soaked up the last catastrophe. I pushed open the lab doors to find Benny, the ship's lead scientist, Dr. Vex, and a containment field holding the last thing I wanted to see.

The sentient space turd.

It had grown. A lot.

Where before it had been a gelatinous, pulsating blob of ship-wide regret, it was now vaguely humanoid, about the size of a small child. Its surface glistened in the lab lights, and I swear I saw it blink.

"What. The. Hell."

Benny scratched the back of his head. "So, uh, turns out, the waste system was more bio-reactive than we thought. After you, you know, sucked it up, it started… evolving."

Dr. Vex nodded, eyes gleaming with the enthusiasm of someone who had clearly never had to manually unclog a toilet. "Fascinating, isn't it? It's developing rudimentary motor functions. We think it might even be semi-intelligent."

I stared at him. "You're excited about a thinking poop monster?"

"We're calling it Specimen 37."

I pointed at the containment field. "That is not the name of a space horror. That is the name of an office filing system."

Before Dr. Vex could argue, the containment field flickered. The turd-thing twitched. And then it opened what could only be described as a mouth.

"Grreeeuurggggghhh."

Benny took a step back. "Did… did it just try to talk?"

I rubbed my temples. "Oh no. Nope. Not doing this today."

The ship suddenly rocked. The lights flickered, and over the intercom, Captain Ryker's voice came through, tense and urgent.

"All crew to emergency stations! We have an unidentified vessel approaching at high speed!"

Great. Just what we needed. I turned to Benny. "We're not done talking about this," I said, jabbing a finger at the increasingly sentient sludge.

Then I booked it to the bridge.

By the time I arrived, the main screen showed a ship—a sleek, black vessel with no markings, moving way too fast for comfort.

"Who the hell is that?" I asked, sliding into my station.

Orla, who looked just as annoyed as I felt, pulled up the limited scans we had. "No transponder signal, no hails. They're running dark."

That was never a good sign.

The ship wasn't firing, but it was moving aggressively, too close for coincidence. And then, as we watched, a signal came through.

A garbled, distorted voice filled the bridge. "Give… us… the specimen."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

The Captain frowned. "Specimen?"

I suddenly had a very bad feeling.

A second later, Benny's voice came through my earpiece. "Uh, Logan? The poop monster is freaking out."

Of course it was.

Back in the lab, Specimen 37 was thrashing inside the containment field. Its once-slow movements had become frantic, and it was making a high-pitched warbling sound that I did not like one bit.

Dr. Vex, to his credit, was jotting notes like he had just discovered the next evolutionary breakthrough. "Fascinating! It appears to be responding to the transmission!"

I grabbed Benny by the collar. "Please tell me you have a way to keep it locked up."

"Uh, funny thing about that—"

The containment field flickered again.

Then it failed.

Specimen 37 hit the ground with a wet splat, then immediately bolted toward the nearest vent. I lunged, but it was fast—too fast.

"Oh, come on!" I shouted as it slithered into the ventilation system.

Benny cringed. "So, uh, Plan B?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Yes, Benny. Plan B is 'Find the poop monster before the mysterious ship full of ominous people does.'"

The intercom crackled. "Unidentified ship is charging weapons!"

Because of course it was.

I looked at Benny. He looked at me.

I sighed. "Fine. We're hunting a rogue sentient toilet abomination through the ship while under threat of attack. Just another day in engineering."

And with that, we ran.