The Galactic Plumber

There's something deeply unsettling about knowing a group of heavily armed strangers just stole your sentient space turd and then left a message saying, Returning Soon.

It's like realizing you left your front door open and coming back to find a note that says, Nice house. See you later.

Benny and I didn't speak as we made our way to the bridge. Mostly because what the hell were we supposed to say? Oops, our biohazardous sludge creature has intergalactic allies, and now they know where we live?

The moment we stepped onto the bridge, all eyes were on us. Captain Ryker looked like he had aged ten years in the past five minutes. Orla had her arms crossed, staring daggers at me, and the rest of the bridge crew had the exhausted expressions of people who had just barely avoided death, only to realize another disaster was waiting around the corner.

Ryker leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Logan. Please, for the love of all things holy, explain to me why a heavily armed vessel just hijacked a piece of our sewage system and then ran like hell."

I sighed. "Well, Captain, turns out our sewage system created an evolving, possibly intelligent bio-organic lifeform. And apparently, someone wanted it really, really bad."

Silence.

Orla pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're telling me we just had a classified, possibly weaponizable lifeform on board, and we didn't know until it was too late?"

I gestured vaguely at Benny. "I mean, we knew. We were just… busy… trying to contain it."

Benny nodded way too quickly. "Yep. Super busy. Very heroic, actually."

Ryker just stared. Then he exhaled slowly and muttered, "I need a drink."

Orla, ever the professional, turned back to the main screen, where the enemy ship had disappeared into FTL. "We scanned their ship as best we could before they jumped, but they were running some serious countermeasures. No transponder, no official markings—nothing to tell us who they were or where they came from."

"That's not creepy at all," I muttered.

Ryker turned back to me. "What do we know about that thing? What's so special about a… God help me, a sentient waste organism?"

Benny adjusted his glasses. "Well, we did notice it was adapting very, very fast. In the span of a few days, it went from a gelatinous blob to a humanoid figure, which suggests some kind of accelerated evolutionary process. It was also responding to external stimuli like speech, environmental changes… and now, apparently, radio signals from an unknown ship."

Orla made a face. "That sounds dangerous."

"Yup," I said. "Which is why I wanted to flush it into deep space before it turned into something that needed a ransom note."

Ryker leaned forward. "But we didn't. And now someone has it. And they're coming back."

We all turned toward the blinking message on the comm screen:

TRANSMISSION RECEIVED: RETURNING SOON.

Benny cleared his throat. "Soooo… do we, uh, prepare for war? Or just… scrub the ship and pretend we were never here?"

Ryker gave him a flat look. "We're not running. If they come back, we need to be ready." He turned to Orla. "Scan the area for any residual FTL signatures. See if we can trace their route." Then to the weapons officer: "Get our defenses online. I don't want us caught with our pants down."

Then he looked at me. "Logan. You and your team are on damage control. I need that reactor stable and our systems running at full efficiency. No more surprises."

I sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

Benny and I turned to leave, but just as we reached the doorway, the comm system crackled again.

A new transmission.

This time, not from the enemy ship.

A deep, heavily distorted voice filled the bridge.

"YOU TOOK WHAT BELONGS TO US."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Ryker stiffened. "Who is this?"

There was a long, static-filled pause. Then:

"WE ARE THE COLLECTIVE. WE WILL RECLAIM OUR CREATION."

Benny muttered, "Oh, that's super ominous."

Then the transmission ended.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then Ryker stood up. "Logan?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You ever deal with an intergalactic secret organization trying to retrieve a mutant sewage monster before?"

I shook my head. "Nope. First time."

He sighed. "Great. Just great."

The screen flickered again, this time with a countdown.

ESTIMATED ARRIVAL: 12 HOURS.

I looked at Benny. He looked at me.

"Well," I muttered. "Guess we better get to work."