Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Lucy Tucci closed her eyes and willed for just a few more minutes of sleep. But people were gathered outside, practically swarming the sidewalk two stories below her apartment, and they weren’t about to disappear. Many of them had traveled a long way to get to her home in Chicago. She couldn’t make out the muffled words that they shouted, but she knew the general gist of why they were here. A weary groan escaped her as she recalled the events of the past several days.

A week ago, the Boovs’ lunar settlement had used their advanced tech to widen the moon’s orbital pattern. They did so without any sort of consultation with the humans of Earth, and everyone was experiencing the effects. Weird weather patterns, abnormal animal behaviors, weakened tides: the whole planet was caught in a twilight zone. And for those like the people outside, the Tucci family was a convenient target to blame.

Every rain cloud, missing cat, bad fishing day was THEIR fault. Well, technically most of the ire was really aimed at Oh. People didn’t know that he was the Boovs’ Captain, but they did know he was the only Boov still living on Earth, and that was enough to earn their resentment. It brought a lot of trouble, but if Tip and Lucy were to leave him to fend for himself—well, then the world would be so far off its axis it would go spinning into the sun.

Lucy was shaken from her thoughts by the crackling slam of the kitchen window. Tip had shoved open the pane. Now she shouted to the street below, “I know why you’re here, but it’s not our fault! We had nothing to do with that so quit harassing us!”

Her daughter, as always, was ready to defend Oh from his latest antagonists. She kept up with her brave verbal volleys, and Lucy could only vaguely hear the other side of the shouting-match. But then the group started up a chant, growing louder and louder until the whole neighborhood could hear it:

“BOOV ARRIVED, THE TIDE DIED! BOOV ARRIVED, THE TIDE DIED!”

It took a good minute for Lucy to realize they were talking about the oceans’ tidal shift, not tie-dye clothes. At least the accusations weren’t as serious as they could’ve been.

Someone yelled, “WHERE ARE OUR WAVES, DUDE?!”

Tip shouted back, “THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO BACK OFF! FINAL WARNING! WE WILL MAKE YOU REGRET MESSING WITH THE TUCCIS!”

Lucy thought, ‘Tip is bluffing, the crowd will get bored and leave, everything will work itself out.’ She was clinging to the blankets a lot tighter than they were clinging to her. Days without a decent night’s rest had her body feeling like lead. Even as the chants of the crowd got louder, her eyelids grew heavier. Just. Five. More. Minutes…

“Okay!” Tip piped to her Boov best friend. “I warned those beach bums as best as I could.”

“You dids,” Oh agreed. His voice shook with nervous excitement. “And I has filled the water balloons.”

The combined efforts of dread and exhaustion weren’t enough to keep Lucy down after that statement.

“KIDS!” Lucy rocketed out of bed. Then her bloodsugar tanked and she had to paw at the wall to stay balanced. “Tip,” she cried, stumbling for the kitchen, “Oh! Whatever you’re doing, don’t—”

The crowd’s shouts turned to angry shrieks just before Lucy made it onto the scene. She found herself caught in some heterogenous jar of emotion, with horror and frustration and amazement all piled up but she didn’t know in which order. The dizziness wasn’t helping, either. All she could really do was waver in place and watch the mess unraveling in front of her.

Tip and Oh were wearing pots like army helmets and gathering water balloons like grenades. Except while Tip chucked hers outside, Oh stuffed all of his balloons into his mouth—then stuck his head out the window and chomped down. His nostricles unfurled, swelled almost to bursting, and released torrents of brownish liquid onto the people below.

“Hope you like beef broth!” Tip called over Oh’s shoulder. “But if you don’t, I know something that might!” She pulled a silver object from her pocket. It was a whistle, glinting and winking coyly as it caught the morning sun. She stuck her head out over the sidewalk and blew into it with all her might.

Lucy winced in anticipation of an ear-splitting whistle. But she didn’t hear anything—

Wait.

That’s because it was a dog whistle. The oncoming cacaphony of barks, yaps, and little-dog yips helped her piece that one together.

The kind of tidal wave that confronted the beach-goers was not the sort they could’ve surfed out of. Many a rubber flip flop was abandoned in their desperate flee to their hatchbacks. Needless to say, nobody in the crowd left that protest liking Boov any better—but a few of them would despise snarly toy poodles and slobbery great danes even more. Was that a win for the Tucci family?

No, it definitely wasn’t.

The evening’s news reports would prove that much.

*    *    *

“But Boov cansnot mind-control dogs to do their evil bidding and attack on humans!” 

The handsome news anchor on tv was doing everything to prove that they could. Lucy had gone to bed half an hour ago and they’d immediately switched a cheesy romcom to the local news.

Someone at the protest had taken a shaky video reminiscent of found footage. The video showed Tip and Oh grinning down from the window, then turned into a chaotic blur of motion when shrieks and barks filled the air. The person dropped their phone and the last thing shown was a Saint Bernard’s giant tongue licking the screen.

“Disturbing stuff,” the newsanchor said gravely. “Many protestors were tackled and slobbered mercilessly due to the Boov’s malicious mind-control tactics. Therapy dogs won’t be healing any of that trauma.”

Oh chewed on the end of a nostricle and whined miserably. Tip shifted uncomfortably on the couch next to him.

“I’m sorry, Oh,” she groaned. “I didn’t mean to make all the Boov hysteria even worse, I just want people to quit bothering us! Why do these jerks on tv have to lie about everything?!”

In true teen fashion, she’d went from guilty to angry in the span of a couple sentences. She yanked a scrunchie off her wrist and threw it at the big shiny teeth of the anchorman. Pig pounced from out of nowhere and rolled out of view with the scrunchie in his paws.

“I do not blame you,” Oh sighed. He leaned into Tip’s side. “I am only wishing I was like Pigcat. No Captain responsibilities. Just playing with scrunchies. All the litter I could be eating.”

Tip sighed and turned off the tv; the distant sound of their mom’s snores replaced the anchorman’s syrupy voice. She looped an arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “That’s not what litter is for, buddy.”

“I knows.”

“We seriously have to go to New Boovworld tomorrow. People are gonna keep bugging us until we get the Boov to fix the moon’s orbit.”

The alien looked as miserable as she’d ever seen him. “I knows we must go. It is the ‘stressing me out’.”

“Yeah. We’ve all been stressed. Mom especially, I think. She forgets to eat when she’s got a lot on her mind, and I’ve never seen her so bad off from hypoglycemia.”

“Hypoglycemia,” Oh echoed with some disdain. “Too fun-sounding a word. Sounds like something tasty. Or like a party, but the party is being even better because you find secret snacks under the couch.”

“If you say so,” Tip snorted. She didn’t even want to know what kind of ‘secret snacks’ he’d found before. “At least Mom said I can go with you to New Boovworld tomorrow. She would’ve never agreed to that if she wasn’t a tiny bit out of it.”

“I do not know why-for,” Oh said a litte whinily. “New Boovworld is being perfectly safe! Especiallies with friend-Kyle appointed as President under my order.”

“Kyle’s definitely the sort of stick in the mud to keep anything too exciting from happening,” Tip grouched.

She paused, hearing a particularly loud snore from their mom’s bedroom. “Come to think of it, maybe Mom should come with us tomorrow. She needs to catch up on some sleep, and I don’t want anyone coming here to bother her while we’re gone. New Boovworld would be a good place to get away from all the protests.”

Oh also took a moment to listen to Lucy’s snores. He grimaced; “Mimom could’s not be sleeping and making those noises while-for I am saying my speech. Sounds like Koobish mating calls. There would’s be a stampede.”

Tip guffawed and slapped her hands over her mouth. “You are so lucky that I don’t tell Mom what you just said! OH MY GOD. No, I meant she can chill out in Slushious while you’re talking to the Boov! She can nap in the backseat. But seriously, dude…never repeat that in front of her,” she laughed. They snickered quietly with each other, then eased into silence.

Tip laid her head back and closed her eyes. They’d had a busy day, and she was really starting to feel it. Talking to President Kyle and getting everything set up for ‘Captain Oh’s address to New Boovworld’ was emotionally exhausting. Especially since Oh wouldn’t let her yell at Kyle, or even take a couple harmless swings at his hologram. She still wasn’t over how he’d approved the orbital change without consulting them first. All of the harrassment they were getting from the public was his fault. At least with sleep closing in, she could dream about giving a certain traffic cop a couple well-deserved kicks…

Then Oh turned and nuzzled close into her side, and that reeled her back from the edge of sleep. It wasn’t that she was new to him being a cuddle-bug; being his best friend warmed her up to that real fast. But she could feel the deep furrow of his brows and all the tension coiling inside his little body. And now that she’d opened her eyes, she could see the spiky waves of yellow that pulsed over his skin. He’d really meant it before when he said he was stressed out.

“Um…” her hand hovered over his head, “Do you want me to…?” Oh nodded against her side.

Tip pressed her knuckles against the broad surface of his head, in the periphery spot between his nostricles, and began rubbing small circles. His body decompressed like a rubber toy released from a firm grip. She half-expected him to turn into a purple Boov puddle, but he just sighed and let his nostricles unfurl down his back.

She’d discovered this pressure point by accident a long time ago when she’d given Oh a noogie. It turned out that all Boov had the same pressure point in the same spot. And it was a massively taboo subject among the aliens. Just talking about it could get a Boov socially shunned. To them, it was an embarrassing weakness that could easily be exploited by their enemies.

Oh didn’t feel nearly as uncomfortable about it. He’d never really shared the Boovs’ harsh views on vulnerability, and being part of a family gave him security. He still made Tip and Lucy swear up and down and around the world that they wouldn’t ever mention the head rubs to anyone, human or otherwise.

It was a silly thing for Boov to be so wary about, but it made Tip feel special to have Oh’s complete trust. Together with their mom, they’d forged the kind of human-Boov familial unit that members of either species would deem impossible. That was the big reason Oh was putting so much pressure on himself about tomorrow, Tip knew.

He didn’t just want to fix the moon’s orbit so people would stop bothering his family. It was a huge motivator, sure; but as Boov Captain, he dreamed of forging the kind of interspecies relationship that he’d found with Tip and Lucy. If the Boov refused to return the moon—and subsequently, Earth—to normal, they would sabatoge that dream before it could ever become reality.

“Everything will work out,” Tip promised. She knew Oh had fallen asleep, but it was the sort of thing their mom would say. Even if Lucy herself had doubts.

And Tip had her doubts. Secretly, and very guiltily, she didn’t think humans and Boov could be more than distant neighbors caught in the same orbit. After the invasion and the subsequent psuedo-exile, there was always going to be a taste of bitterness between them.

She wanted to be proven wrong, of course. She wanted the world to smash her expectations on the ground and dance on the pieces. She didn’t want a big shiny trophy saying she was right.

But unbeknownst to Tip, tomorrow had a big shiny surprise planned. There were a lot of things that were about to go wrong on New Boovworld. And for all the trouble that had already unfolded between humans and Boov over the past week, it was nothing compared to the interspecies chaos that was going to happen next.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Sometimes Tip forgot just how many Boov were out there. Sure, it made sense that there were lots and lots of them, seeing as they were a whole species and all. But now that they were all gathered in the moon colony’s so-called “Common Dome”, it felt like there were more Boov than there was even a number for. All pressed together, their compact little bodies turned into a vast sea of eyes all staring at her.

Oh yeah, did she mention that? They were all staring at her. No amount of seventh-grade presentations about her favorite book series could have prepared her for this kind of stage fright. Her knees felt like they were turning to jelly and a weird cold sweat was making her hands all clammy. She knew if she had mood-ring skin like Oh she’d be completely yellow.

But she insisted on accompanying Oh to New Boovworld, and even promised to stand by his side when he addressed his entire population as their Captain. She would stay by him, even if it meant actively trying not to puke off the side of the floating gold platform they were on.

Briefly, she glanced at Oh, expecting him to look as freaked out as her. But to her astonishment, he seemed totally relaxed. Confident, even. If it wasn’t for the slightly darker tone of purple that covered his body, she would’ve believed it. He was making an effort to keep his color from changing. Her best friend was nervous, but darn it all if he wasn’t going to give his best. A weird feeling was crawling up her throat. Was it pride?

Wait, no, that was the morning’s pancakes. Tip covered her mouth and fought them back down. Oh began his speech as a couple overeasy eggs joined the assault.

“Hello to all my fellow Boov!” he called, spreading his arms. The weird volume mechanics of the dome threw his voice for all to hear.

Their gazes shifted, moving from the univited humansperson to their renowned captain. Tip deflated a little when an invisible hundred-pound anvil lifted off her shoulders.

“Hello beloved Captain Oh!” some greeted.

“We love you Captain Oh!!” a bunch of others shouted.

“I want to encode your unique deoxyribonucleic acid molecules with mine and make a pod of our Boovlings!” someone else shrieked.

Tip didn’t know if she wanted to shout or laugh or cry at that last one. Oh seemed to be fairly pleased with the public response so far, though. Getting any kind of encouragement from the Boov was probably a huge relief. He held himself just a little taller when he continued with his speech.

“I am so very happiness to be visiting the great New Boovworld colony. It was being too long since-for I was here to admire upon the Boov’s wonderful accomplishments!”

His choppy grammar made Tip a little nervous that the Boov were going to get judgy, but they listened reverently and practically hung onto his every word. She remembered what the Boov made up for in mathematical reasoning, they tended to lack in language arts (thinking about the Boov as a culture, that actually made a crazy amount of sense).

“The cities are being vast, the herds of Koobish are thriving in the crater fields, and the humanstradition of social interaction is making friendships among the Boov! We are carings for each other, and connectings with each other!”

The Boov cheered. Many demonstrated their new high-hand touching skills. It was all still a bit awkward, and some of the Boov cowered when they suddenly had someone’s hand in their face. But they’d definitely come a long way from outright refusing to touch one another. Oh’s skin turned salmon and his smile widened.

As her anxiety eased up, Tip felt some of the same happiness. She honestly couldn’t say she was invested in the lives of many Boov outside of her best friend. But they definitely weren’t the worst people that could’ve invaded planet Earth, and she thought they at least deserved to feel at home. Not just on a planet or a moon, but within each other’s company. That sort of thinking set her apart from lots of humans back on Earth, who were itching to send the Boov a solar eviction notice.

Speaking of that. The not-so-fun part of the speech was coming up. She could tell the exact moment Oh had the same thought. His smile faltered and his color returned to purple with subtle flashes of yellow racing through. She shuffled closer to him and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. He immediately grabbed her hand in his, and they shared a meaningful look.

Oh released a shaky breath, then put on a smile. “When I think of the Boov, I am feelings many things.” He moved closer to the edge of the gold platform. “I am feelings proud of our new bravery, and excitement for us being home!”

The vast audience cheered and the strength of it shook the bubble dome. He surged forward on this momentum; “And I am also feelings hope for many new friendships, not onlies between Boov, but also’s between Boov and humanspeople!”

It wasn’t a total mood-killer, but it definitely dampened some of the overwhelming enthusiasm he’d been getting before. The wave of emotion that had been spilling out over the crowd gradually dipped and settled into claps of approval, nods, and murmurs of “Ahyes, of course, the humanspeople. I remember them. They make some tasty stuff.”

“As you know, I has been living amongst the humanspeople with my best friend Gratuity Tucci!”

Again, all eyes on her. She jolted a little and then offered an awkward little wave. Breakfast was about to make a strong comeback if they kept staring at her like that.

Oh continued; “Beings with Gratuity, beings her best friend, is best thing to happen! But to be her friend, I hads to make changes. I hads to think of how I thought wrong things, and did wrong things that were hurtful to Gratuity.”

The Boov were talking amongst themselves. Tip couldn’t tell if they were saying good things or not. Honestly, she was kind of distracted between wanting to hug Oh and wanting to dive off the platform to escape the spotlight.

“Just like this,” Oh said, “the Boov are having to think of how they are affecting the humanspeople of Earthland.”

He faltered for a second, the yellow stripes of anxiety returning. But just as soon he was moving to the very edge of the platform. He spoke with as much volume and confidence as he could muster: “What I am sayings is, we must be reversing the changes of New Boovworld’s orbital path! We must be doing this to return Earthland to normalness—to happiness!”

Gasps rippled through the dome. Oh’s skin turned a couple shades paler before he regained some composure. He strained to hear the murmurs that were slowly easing from the crowd. A whisper of orange shot through him when Tip spoke up:

“Look, you guys—” somehow, that immediately felt like the wrong way to refer to the Boovs’ entire species, “We talked to President Kyle and we understand why you decided to mess around with your orbit.”

All eyes went to Kyle, who’d been dutifully standing beside the floating gold disks of their platform. He went yellow and shrank a little in his textured vest, chuckling nervously through a grimace.

Tip was feeling as yellow as him, but she swallowed her nerves and continued; “The pull of gravity from Earth is a little weaker because you’re further away, and that makes it better for growing your weird Boovish crops faster. Plus it makes the moon’s shape a little rounder and perfect spheres are big in your culture, I guess. Not gonna lie, the physics behind all of that stuff is way beyond me, but I can still tell you how it’s messing with my planet…”

A weird jitter ran up her spine at the same time her throat tried to close up. But the Boov were taking her seriously, which might just change if she started choking on thin air. She felt Oh tug on her sweatshirt sleeve, and she didn’t know if he was encouraging her to keep talking or politely asking her to clamp her jaw. But she felt a spark of confidence at the little gesture. It reminded her who she was ultimately doing this for.

Tip pulled in a shaky breath and gathered her nerves like catching sparks in her hands. “Pulling the moon away from Earth has done a ton of weird things. Ocean currents are weaker. Days have been longer—which is even worse considering school hours will probably get longer too. And there’s a bunch of animals acting all crazy because it’s messing with their biological clocks. But the worst part,” she paused and glanced at Oh, “is having so many jerks blame my best friend for all those things.”

Anger had crept into her voice even though Oh had asked her to stay calm and palatable (he’d said ‘plate-able’, but she’d known what he meant. Hopefully). She winced before she realized the Boov were actually, really considering what she'd said.

“Captain Oh has been in trouble because of new orbit,” someone pondered.

Another Boov said, “We had not considered effects on Earth. But it makes sense, considering” and then Tip stopped eavesdropping because he explained a bunch of science jargon that apparently proved her point somehow.

The Big Brain Boov were scratching their heads and cradling their chins, eyes shifting every which way as they computed all the negative effects on Earth.

“I considered all of the impacts of the gravitational shift, and it is true!” one spoke, speaking English as lucidly as Tip had ever heard it. “Widening the diameter of New Boovworld’s orbit by several thousand miles will have lasting consequences on Earth, both as a planet and as a biosphere.”

“Thanks, Triple-B!” Tip grinned and shot them a couple finger guns. They looked baffled but hesitantly returned the gesture.

Hope sparked in Oh’s wide-eyed gaze. “So it is agreed that New Boovworld will be reversing the changes of orbit?” He leaned forward and clenched his hands, like Lucy did when she wanted the people in her romcom to kiss.

The Boov were still murmuring and talking amongst themselves. With millions of them doing so at once, it made a weird kind of thrumming effect. The whole Common Dome was like a giant hive mind buzzing in thought. Gradually frowns morphed into tight-lipped lines of grudging acceptance, and furrowed brows eased into something less stubborn. They weren’t about to offer Oh any special praise for having them fix the moon’s orbit, but it didn’t seem like they were going to refuse, either.

A few Boov moved forward from the rest of the crowd. They’d taken it upon themselves to give their captain the general consensus. Oh was leaning over the edge of the hovering disk at this point, and Tip silently grabbed his vest to keep him from toppling off. The representing Boov shared meaningful glances, talked quickly to each other, and then regarded Oh with utmost seriousness.

“Captain Oh,” a female Boov said, “we speak for everyone, and we’ve decided it’s reasonable that—”

“Now hold on!” someone shouted. “Don’t rush to such conclusions. For if you has decided to forsake New Boovworld for Earth, then you certainly don’t speak for me!”

The voice was so unwelcomingly familiar that Oh blanched and tipped forward. Tip shouted and yanked him to safety. She gripped his vest and glared toward the one who’d spoken.

A pair of nostricles, uncurled and raised high, moved through the crowd like a couple of shark fins. Gasps rippled through the Common Dome, and someone sat back and tossed packing peanuts in his mouth like popcorn.

Tip growled through her teeth and moved in front of Oh at the same moment the Boov emerged from the crowd.

He regarded her coolly, but his skin flushed red. “Humansgirl,” he said like it tasted gross in his mouth.

It felt kind of nice as the nervous butterflies in her stomach molted into wasps. Just the thought of this guy’s name made them swarm in her blood, and her eyes blazed as she said it:

“Captain Smek.”

Chapter Text

“Well,” Smek purred. He eyed the golf club in his hands and ran his fingers up to the clubhead; “At least someone remembers who the Captain of the Boov should really be.”

Tip gawked. “Sorry,” she backtracked, “that was short for Disgraced—”

“Disgraced Former Captain Smek!” Kyle shouted, marching forward from his post by the floating disks. Smek rolled his eyes like a kid about to get chewed out. “You are not to be interrupting Captain Oh’s address to New Boovworld!”

Smek swung the golf club over his shoulder and faced the crowd. “Interrupting?” he huffed. The nearest Boov backed away awkwardly. “I thought it was every Boov’s right to participate in discussion!”

“That’s right, Captain Oh doesn’t ‘shush’ people like you did,” Tip said, feeling confident.

Then Smek swung around, smiling all too happily and leaning casually on his club. “You’re very right, Humansgirl! So how very unfortunate if he shushed me for talking! Unless he wants to admit my methods as Captain were superior to his?”

All eyes were back on Oh. He cleared his throat. “You are free to be talking as long’s as you are not making trouble,” he said warily.

“Making trouble! What a funny thing to say, Mister Sixty-Two,” Smek laughed.

Tip noticed how Oh’s shoulders hiked at that little jab. She remembered—he made sixty-two mistakes before almost getting erased. She opened her mouth to say something but Oh grabbed her sleeve and shook his head. Grudgingly, she clenched her jaw.

“But anywho’s,” Smek grinned. He tossed his club from one hand to the next, “I won’t waste time! I will say all I has to say, then you can all go back to pretending Oh is a competent Captain.”

Smek marched in front of the Boov. He waved his golf club like it was a mark of power; “I must admit it’s disappointing to see so many Boov ignoring their intellect, and just to please a bunch of simple schmucks like humanspersons! Why should we care if their planet gets a little tipsy-topsy? It’s not like it’s ours anymore—Captain Oh made sure of that, back when he undid all the hard work of our invasion.”

He briefly frowned at the collective indifference of the crowd. But then he smiled and shrugged. “Mayhaps I has been asking the wrong question.” He turned and pinned Oh with a look like he was about to lay out royal flush. “So here is the better question: Why, beloved Captain Oh, should you care so much about their planet?”

Oh tried to reply, but Smek just shook his club like an admonishing finger; “Ah-ah-ah, but I already know the answer.”

It was with every bit of his old extravagance that he brandished the golf club at Oh and yelled, “Captain Oh has disowned the Boov! He has given all loyalty to humanspeople of Earthland!”

Tip knew it was a bad accusation, but she wasn’t expecting the visceral horror that swept through the whole population of Boov. They gasped and staggered like they’d been physically struck, and she spotted a few that went faint and faceplanted.

“But—that is not true!” Oh cried, waving his hands. “I am caring very much for my fellow Boov! You’s are my family—”

“But we’re not your family,” Smek replied. He gestured to the crowd with a sweep of his golf club. “Boov do not has family.”

“But we could—”

“But we could what, be like humanspeople? Of course that’s what you want! Because you do not care for Boov, you only care for—”

“I do’s not care more for humanspeople!”

Oh sounded on the edge of hysterics. Tip looked at him. He’d lost control of his colors and his skin was a warping mess of yellow and red. An idea popped in her head; Oh startled when she lifted his arm.

“Captain Oh is not like Smek! He can’t lie without turning green,” she yelled to the Boov. She held his arm higher; “Tell them you don’t eat cat litter.”

His eyes were big as saucers. “But I do’s—”

“Just say it!”

Oh swallowed, then said meekly, “I do’s not eat cat litter.” He was completely green.

“Okay,” Tip nodded, “now tell them you care about humans more than you care about Boov!”

“But I do’s not—”

“DUDE!”

He winced, then whispered “ohhhh”. He raised his other arm and shouted, “I am caring more for humanspersons than I am for Boov!” The Boov watched closely as his skin turned dark green.

“HAHA!” Tip did a little victory dance around Oh, then aimed a finger at Smek, “See? He cares about Boov just as much! Chew on that, Smek!!”

“I am chewing,” Smek replied. Tip frowned; he still sounded way too smug, considering he’d totally just eaten dirt. He tilted his head and squinted at her, like she’d been a blur in his vision that was finally taking shape. “So you are Gratuity Tucci,” he said.

After a brief hesitation, Tip said with as much teen snottiness as she could muster, “Don’t wear it out.” Oh grabbed her hand, a silent gesture to help her keep her cool.

“You were an inconvenience at the Great Antenna,” Smek said like it was a funny memory between them. “Turned the whole thing upside-down just to save someone who’d made too many mistakes. Just like a foolish humansgirl.”

Tip bristled. “Yeah, well—”

“You care for him very much. Hmmm-yes?”

And suddenly it was Smek’s turn to tip the battleground on its head. Tip tried not to show how much she’d been knocked off balance. She squared her shoulders.

“Yeah, of course I do!” she replied. “He’s my best friend. I’d do anything for him. I’d tip over the Eiffel Tower a million more times.”

“What a sentiment,” Smek said the same way you might say, ‘what a fly in my soup’. “Yes-well, Oh cares about you just as much, Humansgirl.”

Tip frowned, unsure of his ploy, until he rattled on, “And that is the unfortunate thing. Because the role of Boov Captain is to put Boov above everything else. But you, Gratuity Tucci,” he leveled the club at her, “are above everything else.”

Oh dropped her hand like he’d been burned. The Boov gasped, and quite a few more fainted. Tip was really wishing they weren’t as easy to sway as a swing.

Kyle shoved the club from Tip’s direction. “That is stupidity!” he snapped. “Oh is friend of Gratuity, yes—but he cares for Boov far more! He is Captain!” he tacked on, like the title alone proved his point.

“Well he’s welcome to prove me wrong!” Smek laughed, splaying his arms. “All he has to do is say the Boov are more important to him than humansgirl Gratuity Tucci! Without turning green, of course,” he chuckled.

All eyes turned expectantly to Oh. Tip laughed and crossed her arms. “So that’s what you’re gonna stake your entire case on?” She rolled her eyes. “Well, go ahead and say it, Oh. Tell them they’re more important, if that’s what they need to hear.”

Next to her, radio silence.

Tip glanced down at Oh. He was staring at Smek with a stunned expression. The other Boov were getting antsy; she could feel it in the air like a high note getting shriller.

“Oh,” she hissed under her breath, “just say it!”

He looked at her with tragic eyes. Despite the defeat in his expression, his mouth eased into the ghost of a smile. Tip’s heart swelled at about the same moment it dropped to her feet. He couldn’t say it—not without turning green.

“You see, my fellow Boov?” Smek sneered. “Captain Oh’s silence is loudest proof of all! He is not fit to be leader if he puts one little humansgirl over entire species of Boov!”

Kyle rushed to do damage control. He steered himself between Smek and the rest of the crowd. “Enough of this trouble-making!” he yelled. “Do you really care so much for New Boovworld’s orbit? It will not be the end of Boovkind to change it!”

“Kyle,” Smek scoffed, “your naivety is charming as your cowardice, but only one is a proper Boov quality! This is not just about our orbit! This is about Boov standing for Boov, and nobody else! We only do what is good for ourselves, because this is how we survive. Captain Oh does not see this. He is more humansperson than Boov now!”

Murmurs hummed from the Boov like a hornet testing its wings. Red bodies began to blemish the face of the crowd, and someone yelled, “Oh should’s not be Captain!”

“And it took long enough for Boov to figure that out!” Smek literally brushed aside Kyle with a sweep of his club. “Oh stopped the Gorg, but that does not change what he has always been! A screwup!”

Oh was pretty much incapacitated by pure stress. He shoved his hands over his eyes and dissolved into a bundle of shaking nerves and yellow skin. Meanwhile Smek was working the crowd’s anger like clay in his hands.

But for all the anger fuming from the Boov, it did not compare to the fury building like pressurized steam in Tip’s chest.

She didn’t know how to make Oh feel better. She didn’t know how to make the Boov see reason. She didn’t know anything at all, except for one thing: she was gonna make Smek wish he’d never been born—or hatched, or, or, whatever!!

The Boov manning the platform’s controls jumped to attention when he was caught in Tip’s glare. She made a bunch of nonsensical hand motions that he miraculously interpreted. He pressed some buttons and the hovering gold disks rearranged to form steps leading to the ground. Tip wasted no time jumping from disk to disk, like a frog hopping lily pads right toward the bug.

Smek was still too busy yapping his jaw to notice when she landed directly behind him. He only paused when a few too many million eyes drifted to something beyond his nostricles.

“—Huh? What is it? Excuse me, my eyes are down here…”

Offhandedly, he glanced over his shoulder—And Tip got a glance of what the Gorg saw in Smek’s face right before he’d split from the peace meeting. He shrieked, jumping backwards. “H-humansgirl!” he yelped like it was an infestation.

“What, did you forget I was here?” Tip snapped. She used her height to her advantage and really towered over him. It was more from shock than bravery that Smek remained pinned in front of her. “You must’ve forgotten a lot of things if you think you can talk smack about my friend! But enough about that!”

She gestured widely to the crowd around them. “Why don’t we get to the stuff everyone has apparently forgotten? Let's remind them! Maybe we can start by whapping them over the head whenever they try to speak! But hey, we need an egg full of somebody's next generation of kids to do that, don’t we? It just wouldn’t be as much fun if we weren’t using a special little relic of the whole freaking species we’d doomed! And all because we were too much of a whiny little gutless coward to sit through a peace meeting!” She leaned forward and about spit the insult in his face.

Ohhhhhhhhh’s rippled through the Common Dome. It was like when someone at her school got called to the principal’s office—but times a million.

Smek’s soul had taken a light vacation when a human started screaming in his face. He only returned to himself when she scoffed and backed off a couple feet. An ounce of color returned to his pale skin.

He stuttered, “Y-you cannot be speaking! You are just a simple—”

“I may be a simple humansgirl,” she mocked, “but at least I’m not like you! You kidnapped the Gorg’s children, you got the Boov hunted for years, you displaced billions of people, you hurt my best friend—YOU. STOLE. MY! MOM!!” she screamed.

“Miss Tucci, you need to—” Kyle tried to soothe her, but she slapped his hand away.

Her vision was tunneled, burrowing into Smek’s huge eyes. She didn’t notice the overwhelmed swarm of colors phasing over his body.

“You’re just some worthless jerk! You don’t even know how many Boov wanted to erase you for all the stuff you pulled! The only reason they didn’t wipe your stupid face from existence was because Oh told them not to! Now there’s a mistake!” Tip snarled.

She didn’t notice when the colors were slowly overcome by a single, bright, blaring shade of red. Or how his grip tightened around the golf club with every word she yelled in his face.

“So don’t you dare call him Mister Sixty-Two!” she spat. “If you’re gonna talk smack, call him Mister Sixty-Three—”

“SHUSH!!!”

Stars exploded in Tip’s vision.

She realized she was staring at Smek, and he was staring right back. He was slack-jawed. Somehow they were eye-level…oh, that's because she was sitting down. She could feel the cold floor beneath her. When had she sat down?

“…What? Ow!” Her hand touched her head almost without her consent. Just above her temple, beyond the thick curls of her hair, her skin was raw and burning. “What the heck—”

“Tiiiii-iiiiii-iiiiip!!!”

Oh’s wavering cry broke her out of her daze. She hadn't even noticed the world of sound crashing down around her. People were yelling and the front of the crowd was moving forward. Kyle was screaming at them and making all sorts of frantic gestures.

Arms wrapped around Tip’s middle and dragged her backward across the floor. “Stop stop stop!” Tip wriggled and kicked out her legs.

“Tiiiiip!” Oh wailed and tightened his grip.

Kyle turned from where he'd been holding back the panicked crowd. “Oh, stop!” he yelled, rushing toward them. “Do not be moving her! She could's be hurt!”

“I’m fine!” Tip shouted. She was falling back on her basic emotional hardwiring right now, which fell just beyond crying kid to angry teen territory. She growled and kicked at Kyle when he tried to get closer. “I said I’m fine! Let go of me, Oh!”

“He is prisonment for life!” Oh screamed. Tip froze. There was so much desperate anger in his voice. She’d never heard him sound like that. “Kyle, arresting Smek right now!”

“Uh-right of course!” Kyle nodded, clearly taken aback. He swung around; “Smek, you are—oh…”

All three sets of eyes landed on the golf club laying abandoned on the floor. Smek was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Text

“I am sorry, you’re a fugitive Boov! Initiating self destruct.”

“NO NO NO WAIT—”

The bubble car popped and the yellow disk swiftly darted from beneath his pods. A twenty foot fall was enough to knock the true hopelessness of the situation into his head. After a brief tumble across the floor, the former Captain of the Boov could think of nothing to do but curl up and weep miserably. President Kyle had already listed him as a fugitive Boov. The whole fleet of his cops would be looking for him. How could he escape?

He had to run. The sounds of Boov cops emerging from the ceiling’s circular entrance vents reminded him of that. As hopeless as things were, he wouldn’t be a true Boov if he didn’t run until he was pinned. The cops were relying on their bubble cars’ red sweep scanners more than their eyes. They didn't notice when the blue Boov sobbing on the ground flashed yellow and took off.

Boov Undersurface Ramp Parking, charmingly called BURP, was a concentric stack of underground parking beneath the Common Dome. Round pads dotted the floors in a swirling circular pattern. They glowed and dimmed in rythm, and several feet above each pad hovered a Boov transport disk. Smek couldn’t pilot any of them due to his new fugitive status, but they offered a sort of yellow canopy to hide him from view.

A menacing curtain of red from a cop’s scanner suddenly flashed to life in front of him. It advanced hungrily forward, scanning every particle it touched to try and detect Smek’s DNA. If it caught him he was done for. His pods briefly tangled and he pawed the ground in a desperate sort of crabwalk until he was hunkered below a disk. Red rays of light spilled around him for a brief, terrifying instant. Then the cop passed by, the air cleared, and Smek heaved a quick sigh of relief before he kept on running.

The duck-and-flee game continued. The disks provided cover from the red scanners so the Boov couldn’t get a read on him. The cops grew impatient and swept closer to the ground, scrutinizing every open space they could see. But he was nowhere to be found, only ever a quick flash of purple that left the cops honing in on spots he’d already fled far away from. Pretty soon they were rubbing their eyes and yanking on their nostricles. Smek was very, very good at running away.

But he couldn’t keep going like this forever. For one, it felt like his pods were about to quit on him. A couple were already starting to lag and drag behind the others. And two, it wouldn’t be so long before the cops gave up on the aerial approach and just hunted him down on the floor. There was only one potential escape route—

His front pods touched thin air and for a horrifying moment in time he was teetering over the edge of an abyss.

“Yipe!” He cartwheeled his arms and stumbled back.

Every concentric level of BURP had a huge, gaping center for the transport of vehicles between floors. Smek stood on the ledge of the topmost gap and anxiously peered down. Every floor below was a smaller circular area with a smaller gap in the middle, leading down to the smallest level at the very bottom.

That bottommost level was reserved for a single bubble car: the one belonging to the royal Boov Captain. When Smek was Captain, he’d ensured that the royal bubble car could not be hijacked by any signals—and that included Boov signals. Right now, Captain Oh’s car was the only vehicle on the moon that would not self-destruct from Smek’s touch. It was the only way for him to escape New Boovworld.

But first he would have to actually reach the bottom floor, and there arrived the problem. BURP was designed for storing Boov vehicles, not for actual Boov accessibility. Bubble cars were left by their pilots on the surface and then ordered to return through BURP’s computer system. In the meantime, the unpiloted disks were controlled by the computer and tidily arranged above charging pads on every floor.

This place was designed for remote computerized control. There were no stairs, no ladders—not even the most primitive way for a walking Boov to traverse the different levels. The key to his escape was right below his feet, but he couldn’t reach it. Unless he jumped and settled for being a purple stain next to it, of course.

He whined miserably and gnawed on the tips of his fingers. How had everything gone so wrong? Here he was, getting hunted down like the lowliest Boov on the moon! Mere minutes ago he’d almost reclaimed his place as Captain! But then the humansgirl had—he’d—she shouldn’t have—

“This is taking too long,” a Boovish cop complained. She was way too close, almost on top of him. Smek flashed yellow and slipped beneath a disk right before the Boov eased into view. The rest of the fleet congregated around her while she spoke. “He must be here somewhere!” she huffed. “Too many witness-eyes saying he snuck into one of the tunnel vents. We must be searching on the ground to find him.”

The other cops groaned about sore pods, then grudgingly split up. They would station themselves along the outer circumference of the circular floor, then move inward to flush him toward the center gap. Smek already knew this. The Boov were good finders. That’s how they found planets in the vastness of space. Smek would be found too, unless he managed to think fast and act faster.

He squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temples, willing a plan to form. The orange ripplets sweeping over his yellow body spiked into jagged lines. “Come on,” he whined, “think think think! I need to—”

A harsh glare painted his eyelids red and a tickling heat danced on his skin. He watched dumbly as a scanner swept over his body, all the way down to his pods, and curtly winked away. “Fugitive Smek, detected,” the automated female voice chirped. “Congratulations for competence, Senior Officer! Notifying President Kyle!”

Smek grinned a little sheepishly and crept out into the open. “Senior Officer Shirl! Has a good ring to it,” he said conversationally. “You were just another traffic cop not so long ago!”

“You has always been good with names,” Shirl muttered. She didn’t seem quite impressed. Her bubble car hovered over the chasm, just beyond the ledge.

“Yes-well, I never forget a face. Especially not a pretty one like yours! Very—um, flat. Flatter than most, I would say.” He shuffled closer, putting half his effort into being charming and the other half into staying purple. Shirl’s eyes narrowed into slits. He hoped staying purple was going better.

She eyed the yellow tips of his nostricles. “How sweet,” she deadpanned. “But you should’s be saving the groveling for President Kyle and Captain Oh. After all, you cannot be escaping from me. You had your running. There is nowhere left.”

They were nearly eye-to-eye. Smek sighed raggedly and wiped his clammy hands on his vest. “I have hopelessness,” he said, leaning over to catch a glimpse into the abyss. It was a long way down to the bottom of BURP. His face flushed yellow.

“See! You have nothing,” Shirl smirked.

“No. Hopelessness is quite a lot. I can share,” and she didn’t have time to react when he slapped his hands over hers. His fingers dug into the steering orb.

She startled, flashing yellow then red. “What are you—”

“I am sorry, you’re a fugitive Boov!”

Her eyes darted to the chasm beneath her pods. She couldn’t pry her hands out from underneath his.

“SMEK—”

“Initiating self destruct!”

The bubble car popped. Smek dove over the edge at the same moment Shirl dropped straight down. “Hang on!” he screamed. He pinned her hands in place against the orb when she instinctively tried to flail. “That’s an order from your Captain!”

He wasn’t really sure if she could hear him past the roar of air rushing past their bodies. At this point, there were a couple different reasons why she might be screaming such nasty things in his face.

The floors of BURP flew by at dizzying speed. The shrinking size of each level’s opening made a weird optical illusion of a single gap slowly closing beneath them. Pretty soon they would be met with an unyielding floor. Smek had to time this just right.

He squinted, gritting his teeth and turning the palest shade of yellow he’d ever been. The glowing charging pads dotting all the floors stretched and stained into pillars of light around them. But he honed in on the shrinking chasm below, his mind leaping to make the correct calculations—

“NOW!!” he screamed. His hands released the orb and snagged onto Shirl’s nostricles. The orb glowed to life at her lone touch.

“Welcome Senior Officer—”

The bubble car encapsulatd the both of them and bounced upward. They were only hovering a couple measly yards from the floor. Shirl slumped over the orb. Smek clutched her nostricles like reigns and gasped for breath. He didn’t know if he had too much oxygen or not nearly enough. His head was spinning, and his eyes rolled back before he collapsed in a heap.

But without the bubble car’s disk, the combined weight of two Boov was too much for the vehicle to maintain. It popped unceremoniously and they fell in a pile to floor.

“I…I…I’m…” Slowly, a smile grew over Smek’s blank features. “I’m ALIVE!” He laughed maniacally and shoved Shirl off of him. She rolled a little too limply for his taste. His smile briefly strained. “Uhhh, what about you?”

A trailing groan was good enough proof that she was in perfect shape. “Good work Senior Officer! Congratulations for competence!” he laughed and slapped the ground next to her. Then his skin briefly sank from purple back to yellow, “I almost died…” He flashed orange, “But I lived!”

He teetered between laughing and crying for a good couple minutes. Shirl settled for laying facefirst on the ground, which was feeling like a pretty tempting passtime.

But Smek had places to be. Namely, anywhere in the entire universe but New Boovworld. He dragged himself to his pods and brushed off his vest.

“Thanking you for your help!” he piped to Shirl’s unresponsive form. “And you taught me many new words during the fall! I did not even know Koobish has those parts. But I am needing to run! As they are saying on Earthland, toodle-doodles!”

Smek swung around to face Captain Oh’s royal Boov vehicle—and froze in shock at the sight in front of him. “WHAT in the WORLD is that monstrosity?!” he cried.

There was no time to be picky. The Boov on the topmost level would wisen up to the disappearance of their senior officer. He could imagine them swarming like little bees far up above. And once they realized where he was and what he'd done to Queen Bee, they'd be packing plenty of sting.

He circled the car testily like it might lunge out and bite him. Maybe it would. It was the most disgraceful marriage of human and Boov vehicular technology he’d ever had the misfortune of seeing. The most obnoxious piece was the sugary multicolored fuel engine, it was like a cavity in his eyes! But he plodded closer and warily tapped the hood with a knuckle.

“Hello…Slushious?” He’d read the panel attached to the bumper. “I am ready to pilot!”

Flip-eye headlamps wearily opened with a dim yellow glow. They seemed to fix him with a half-lidded stare. He waved nervously.

“Y-you are a friendly abominable beast, yes?” he squeaked, reaching out to tentatively pat the hood. A weird rumbling growl emerged from the engine and he jumped backward.

“Savage piece of tech!” he cried. “You should have never been crafted! I will put you out of your misery! But first!” He leapt at the car like he was ambushing it. His fingers pawed vainly at the windshield. “Let me in let me in let me in!”

Smek searched its metal body for a weakness until his hand caught under the grab handle. He yanked with all his might and got nailed in the face by the door. The exhaust pipe sputtered like a hoarse chuckle.

“Disgraceful piece of…” Smek muttered insults, peeling himself off the ground. He climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door a little harder than he needed to. He frowned as he examined the control panel he was working with.

The human design of the car was a little primitive, but he understood the logic of the Boovish controls melded into the machine. He could work with this. Being the best at running away meant being resourceful and quick on his pods. It only took a couple trial minutes of poking and testing around for him to get the general gist of this thing’s mechanics.

Slushious’ headlamps tilted into a grouchy sort of glare but it hovered upward nonetheless, tilting haphazardly like a boat facing broadside waves. Its wheels turned horizontal and bounced uneasily like they were searching for traction. Colorful bubbles spewed from the exhaust and the car angled upward.

“Okay, Slushious,” Smek sighed anxiously. One hand gripped the wheel, the other wrapped around the parking brake. His pods hovered over the proceed pedal. “I am hoping you are worth your Boov parts,” he whined. “But it may be unlikely.”

Smek wouldn’t notice the headlamps that shuttered nearly closed with just the barest of glowing, yellow slits. The slushy fuel machine whirred and frothed and the exhaust kicked out dense clogs of bubbles. The tires tucked into the wheel wells, snug and ready. He slammed the pedal—

And there was nothing but a frothy exhaust plume of bubbles to prove Slushious had been in the bowels of BURP just minutes prior. The headlamps blinked in sluggish contentment while the moon got smaller in the rear view mirror. Smek was well on his way into space, but he was still trying to process that he’d made it out of New Boovworld.

He lightly petted the wheel. “Perhaps a bit more efficient than I thought,” he compromised a little shakily. His skin was a couple shades paler than usual. “Overcompensating for simple humanstech, of course.”

The only reply was a horrible sort of snorting growl from behind him. Smek laughed off his nerves. “Still plenty of Boov in you, Slushious,” he chuckled and slumped in his seat. “What a noise!”

Slushious drove on into the darkness of space, leaving behind New Boovworld and Earthland and all those places that failed to be a home. He reasoned he was better off far away from traitorous Boov and impulsive humanspersons. But the loneliness of space was already sinking in. In a brief moment of weakness, he almost kind of wished he had company.

At least he could pretend there was an equally lonely Koobish in the backseat, maybe hidden beneath the heaping pile of blankets.

“What a noise,” he repeated offhandedly. “Sounds like Koobish mating call.”

Chapter Text

Waking up felt more like reviving from the dead. Lucy couldn’t remember the last time her body shut down like that. It took a minute for her to even recall where she was. Right now she was in the backseat of Slushious, heaped beneath the pile of blankets Oh had put on top of her. She’d been in some sort of underground Boov parking area before, napping while Oh and Tip did their speech.

But it seemed like they were on their way back to Earth. Slushious was driving. Well, flying, technically. An odd silence permeated the car. Usually Tip and Oh would be talking and laughing with each other, but the only noise to be heard was the distant purr of the slushy fuel tank. Lucy would usually welcome some extra quiet time, but there was something in the atmosphere that managed to seep through all her blankets. Thin and wispy like cigarette smoke, but enough to choke you when you really breathed it in. It felt like dread.

Something must have happened during the talk to New Boovworld. Now her kids were silently basting in their misery, probably blaming themselves for whatever went wrong. She’d need to be tactful if she was going to talk to them without worsening the mood.

The tension in the air was sharp and delicate, a wire pulled too taught. Lucy used every ounce of subtlety to push the blankets off and sit up. She was sitting behind the passenger side seat, and glanced over at the person behind the wheel. It was Oh…well, that was weird. Why was he holding up his nostricles like that?

She squinted, peering through the sleepy fog in her head. Oh was sitting sideways, facing the driver side window and looking out into space. The way he held his nostricles, like horns instead of cute cinammon-swirls, seemed vaguely familiar. Was it some kind of mood indicator, like his colors? Was he angry?

Maybe it would be better to talk to Tip. She peeked her head over the shoulder of Tip’s seat to ask what was wrong—but the seat was empty.

A spark of panic leaped in her heart. Her daughter wasn’t in the car with them. Why wasn’t she in the car with them? Did Oh seriously leave her on New Boovworld? That didn’t make any sense! There had to be a good explanation!

She shuffled into the middle seat and leaned forward next to Oh, bracing a hand against the dash. He was still quietly gazing out the window. Either he didn’t notice she was up, or he was too upset to even acknowledge her. Lucy frowned.

“Where’s—”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

It was the kind of visceral scream that scary movies will always fall short of capturing. Apparently Lucy was a better jumpscare than any bad costume or CGI monster.

A patchy sort of white blanched the Boov’s skin as he scrambled backward against the driverside door. The unbridled terror in his eyes hit like a bucket of ice water. It froze her up and pinned her to the spot. She felt like the deer in headlights and the oncoming truck all at once.

“How did you—what are you—why—” his English warbled off when a frog’s trilling scream erupted from his throat, “Reeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”

He slapped his hands over his mouth. Lucy didn’t even know Boov could make that sound.

“You’re not Oh,” her brain supplied helpfully.

He certainly wasn’t like any Boov she’d ever met. This type of flailing helplessness was more on brand for a wounded bird than a Boov. And as similar as the little aliens were in appearance, this guy had his own look.

The horned nostricles were the first thing she’d noticed. Now that he was facing her, she saw the weird Boov equilavent of a mustache hanging over his cringing mouth. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed the red and gold-trimmed vest before.

Through her surprise and confusion, she felt an odd feeling of familiarity bubbling up at the sight of this guy. All his features were piling together, forming a door in her memory, and “Happy Humanstown” emerged as the uninvited guest. Why did he remind her of…

“Oh my god, you’re the guy!” Lucy gasped. “From the signs and the big waving animatronics at Happy Humanstown!” He flinched when she feigned the mechanical wave. “You’re—that’s right! You used to be the Boov’s Captain, didn’t you? Captain Smek!”

She laughed in disbelief and climbed into the passenger seat. Smek shrank in his vest.

“I can’t believe this!” Lucy scoffed. “You stole Slushious, and I bet you didn’t even know I was back here! Is this supposed to be payback for Oh being the new Captain?”

“No, it is not—you do not even know—you are simple and clueless!” His snark was just a coughing car battery. Little sprites of his famous, wimpy meanness failing to ignite in the waterlogged choke of fear.

Lucy wanted to feel angry. But for some reason she kept thinking of that time Pig caught a mouse. The little creature had been scurrying around their apartment until the cat managed to pin it in a corner of the kitchen. Its pink little paws covered its eyes, and against her better judgement, Lucy pulled Pig away.

It was with the same bleeding sympathy that Lucy groaned and pulled herself back by the scruff.

“Look, I just want to get back to New Boovworld,” she said. “Hopefully before Tip and Oh notice I’m gone. If you bring us back I won’t tell them anything, and you won’t get in trouble for taking Slushious for a joyride. Okay?”

Smek got a look on his face. It was like he had two heavy rocks and he had to choose which one would get chucked at his head. For all the fear he had of her, Lucy could already tell she was the lighter stone.

“I—can’t take us back. We are not returning to the solar system.”

“WHAT?!”

“Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”

It wasn’t until now that Lucy really considered the depths of space around them. They weren’t anywhere near the moon, or Earth, or any other familiar marker. Inky blackness peppered by pinprick stars was the only thing she saw in any direction.

“Oh god,” she muttered. She felt faint. “Where are we? How far are we from home?”

Smek swallowed down another froggy scream. “Erm—I would try and explain the distance, but human mind could not comprehend. Not an insult!” he yelped when her jaw dropped. “Don’t bite me!”

“You need to take us back now!” Lucy cried. “What are you even thinking?! We could die out here!! There’s nothing but space and space is just nothing!” She spiraled. “Oh my god—we could run out of oxygen, or starve, or freeze, or, or—”

“Ice cream!!” Smek yelled.

She stared at him. “What?”

“Yes,” he said, nodding furiously. “That’s right! Ice cream! That is how humans are referring to the frozen sweetened secretions? I know a place where we can get some! I will bring you there, just don’t attack me!”

Maybe this was just a big fever dream. Her head was probably cooking under all the blankets she was sleeping under.

“There’s an ice cream shop out here?” she asked blankly.

“Best in the whole Milky Way! Pretty funny that it’s dairy free.” Smek tried to laugh but it sounded more like a groan. “Humansperson will have a frozen treat and be happiness, hmmm-yes? Then you will be nonviolent?” He clasped his hands and stuck his thumbs between his teeth.

Lucy hated being talked to like a stupid animal. He seemed to think the mere mention of ice cream would calm her down. The most infuriating part was that it was kind of working.

She was feeling pretty lightheaded right about now. She didn’t know if it was low blood sugar, or an oncoming existential crisis from being trapped in the incomprehensible vastness of space. Ice cream was a pretty good solution either way.

She sighed.

“I’d like to point out that I’m not a wild animal. I’m not going to go crazy and attack you, so you can quit acting like I have rabies. Please.”

Purple poured back into his skin. Smek braced his arms against the wheel and breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Nice and tame now. Ice cream solves everything with you humanspeople,” he chuckled.

Already she was regretting being so humane. A swift punch in the teeth would probably do this guy some good.

She aimed a finger at him. “Assuming you’re not lying about the ice cream place—”

“I am not—”

“You’re going to give me the keys before we even leave the car. I’m going to get something to eat, and then I’m programming Slushious to take me back to New Boovworld. You can hitch a ride with someone else. Understand?”

Defiance wormed into his posture. “I am Boov!” he said, jamming a thumb to his chest. “I am superior, and you cannot to tell me—”

He got his very first taste of The Mom Look and deflated. “Understanding,” he said grouchily.

“Good. So what’s the name of this place?” Slushious’ GPS flashed to life.

“The Milky Way Galaxy Placestore for Gasoline and Nonmilk Things.” He gripped the wheel and pouted to himself.

“…Nonmilk things?”

“They had to specify for more business. Milk is offensive in many cultures. Too mammalian, icky-gross.”

“I’m a mammal,” Lucy said.

“Yes-well, keep that to yourself please,” he muttered.

The sidelong glare she threw him bounced off a brick wall of apathy. Or maybe just a brick wall. She huffed and typed the name into the GPS. It popped up almost right away.

“Wow,” she said, “there it is! It’s half a light year away. That’s not too far, is it?”

“No. Only about three trillion miles.”

Lucy stared. “Is that a joke?”

“What's a joke?”

“Three trillion miles—I’ll be dead by the time we get there!”

Smek looked a little hopeful. “You are expiring in fifteen minutes?”

Even fifteen minutes would feel like an eternity with this particular Boov.

“You're saying it takes less than half an hour to go three trillion miles in Slushious?”

“It may seem like a primitive vehicle because of its human design, but Boov technology is very redeeming. Gorg superchip also does not hurt,” he conceded a little brattily. “Speed will not hurt us because of these advancements. You see, the gravitational propulsion systems warp the geometrical affect of spacetime physics so that mass-specific force of acceleration does not…”

The Boov trailed off at Lucy’s blank look. She hated the patronizing smile that grew beneath his stupid mustache. “Just program the coordinates,” he said, barely short of patting her on the head. “Then we get ice cream in fifteen minutes, and humansperson is happy.”

He settled comfortably in his seat. Lucy really wished she could just let herself punch him.

Slushious’ headlamps opened with a jolt when she plugged in the coordinates. Pinpricks of starlight stretched into tight lines as space warped around them. A weird hum gave the air a tingling quality. It felt like they were riding along the vibrations of a single thrumming guitar string. Lucy shut her eyes and braced her feet against the floormat, trying not to be sick.

There was a stretch of silence. It wasn’t exactly comfortable silence, but that was mainly because every atom in her body was dancing the morocco. In all honesty, she briefly forgot the prior captain of the Boov was sitting right next to her.

Of course, he had to remind her.

“So you must be Lucy Tucci.”

Her frown deepened but she wasn’t ready to open her eyes. “Did Tip and Oh tell you about me?”

“Ah, no. But I never forget a name. Somehow one of the Tuccis is always making trouble.” There was a fresh type of resentment in his voice. Not dried and cracked and fissured, but glossy and new and thick in the air. “Before with assisting the fugitive Boov, and now when I almost—” he cut himself off.

“Hey, it’s your fault we’re in this situation right now. You’re the one that stole Slushious with me in the backseat. I didn’t ask for any of this,” Lucy argued. “But how do you know my name? I’ve never caused trouble for you before.”

“Yes you has, back when Earthland was properly named Smekland. Finding the fugitive Boov’s password was number one problem, but I did hear word of this ‘Lucy Tucci’. Harassing Boov in Happy Humanstown and asking too many questions.”

Lucy opened her eyes and let her gaze plunge into the darkness of space ahead of them.

“You were looking for humanspawn Gratuity Tucci while she was aiding fugitive Oh. See? Tuccis and trouble.” He clucked his tongue.

She looked at him. “If the Gorg and the fugitive and his password—if they weren’t problems for you, and everything was working out fine for the Boov. Would you have helped me find my daughter?”

Smek gave her a smug kind of smile, like he could shine a laser pointer and she’d chase it. “Of course I would haves helped you find your humanspawn! I am getting you ice cream, don’t you trust me?”

For a beat longer Lucy stared at him. “I don’t trust any Boov that lies without turning green.”

If Lucy ever saw Pig stand up and speak English, she’d have a similar look as the one on Smek’s face.

She turned her head and closed her eyes, ready to sit out the next several minutes in quiet triumph. Hopefully this Boov had figured out she wasn’t a savage animal, and she wasn’t a “simple humansperson” either.

But man, if she wasn’t honest to god looking forward to that ice cream he’d been dangling in her face. Sue her.

Chapter Text

“It is not funny! Whyfor are you laughing??”

“I mean, it’s kind of funny. Little dude almost took me out with a golf club,” Tip smirked. Oh groaned.

They were in Kyle’s office somewhere in the heart of New Boovworld. It was a pretty bland office, with a tidy desk and a couple hover chairs and little else. They were supposed to wait here while Kyle was commanding the police fleet. Every cop on the moon had orders to track down Smek after he’d split from the Common Dome.

Tip felt a little silly they were making such a big deal over what happened. The worst she had was a bruise above her temple. Okay, every so often her vision got a little wonky and things would split in two in front of her. But that was probably from the moon air.

Most of her discomfort was coming from this stupid chair. It looked like an egg with a big dent in it. It was designed for compact little Boov, not gangly humans. But Oh insisted she stayed seated until her head was completely healed. He watched her closely and winced in pain more than she did.

“I’m really fine,” Tip huffed. “People shouldn’t be making such a big fuss. Either he’s got a weak arm or he was holding back…He’s probably got a weak arm, huh?”

She dropped the ice pack in her lap. It wasn’t really an ice pack, it was round and squishy like rubber and water and jello all combined. It made her skin feel tingly. Oh rushed over from where he’d been pacing and pressed it back against her head.

“Hey!”

“You are needing this to heal properly!” Oh argued. His little pods stomped on the ground when he resumed his pacing. “And a fuss must be made! Disgraced Former Captain Smek shushed a humansperson!”

“Yeah, I’m a human. Not a porcelain kitten. I’m over it,” she shrugged. “Besides, he shushed you guys all the time didn’t he?”

“Boov are having flexible skulls! We are cartilaginous! You are breakable,” he whined and she rolled her eyes. “Smek is knowing this!”

“That guy's barely able to think critically when he’s in a good mood. He probably wasn’t even thinking at all when he took a swing. I've been that angry person before, it's sent me to the principal’s office a couple times.”

“Whyfor are you defending him?” Oh cried, grabbing his head.

Suddenly he blurred and split in two. Tip squinted and pressed the weird ice pack thingie harder against her head. She hoped she was looking at the right Oh right now.

“It’s not like I care about that jerk,” she said. “What I care about is you focusing on more important things, like getting the Boov back on your side about fixing the moon’s orbit.”

Oh shook his head and continued his pacing. His hands were little fists at his sides.

She added, “Plus it’s weird seeing you so mad at someone. I don’t like it. Stop it.”

“I will be mad at Smek for rest of eternity,” he vowed. There weren’t any windows for him to stare dramatically out of, so he kind of just stopped and stared at a random spot on the wall.

“Forget about him!” Tip urged. “Our lives will be so much better if we just let him run off—”

“Smek ran off! He is out of New Boovworld!”

Kyle careened into the office with his cop hat flashing and spinning. The noise and the lights had Tip’s sore head doing somersaults. She threw an arm over her eyes. Thankfully Kyle flicked off the hat-alarm upon closing the door.

“Finally some good news!” she groaned. “Hopefully we’ll never see his stupid mustache again. No offense to your mustache, Kyle, yours is cool.”

“Thank you,” he gasped, wobbling a little unsteadily for his desk, “but you do not understand badness of what has happened!”

He collapsed on his chair and heaved for breath like he’d ran up several flights of stairs. Which was ridiculous considering Boov were too smart to even have stairs. “I got here fast as possible to tell Captain Oh the news. Perhaps Gratuity should leave and let Boov talk.”

“I take back what I said about your mustache.”

“No! Tip is staying here! She is part of this,” Oh said defiantly.

“Yeah, Kyle,” Tip sassed. She thought she was glaring at him but she was glaring at the wall to the left of him.

“Gratuity,” Kyle said earnestly, “I think you should be relaxed while you are healing.”

There was something in his voice. Tip caught on to it but Oh did not. He argued, “I am Captain Boov and my best friend will be staying—”

“Kyle,” Tip said, really looking at him. She didn’t like the look on his face when her vision cleared. “What's wrong?”

He sighed heavily and took off his hat. Tip stiffened and let the ice pack fall to her lap. Nothing good ever came from an adult taking off their hat like that.

“Smek is very far away, likely outside of the solar system by now. The vehicle he was driving had warpspeed capabilities.”

Oh plopped down on the chair beside Tip’s. “All Boov vehicles has warpspeed. We could be catching him—but no. Likehow Tip said to me, more important things to do,” he said grudgingly.

“No,” Kyle said, splaying his hands on the table, “this is biggest issue right now. Smek did something very very badness!”

Tip jumped off the hover chair, letting the ice pack fall to the ground. She gestured irritably to herself; “How are you guys not getting this? I am fine!”

“This is not about Gratuity Tucci,” Kyle explained reluctantly.

“What?” Oh gawked. “Then who—”

“Lucy Tucci.”

The blood drained from Tip’s face. Her friend blanched similarly.

“Mimom,” Oh whispered. He said louder, “but Lucy is safely in Slushious! She is napping and making terrible humansleep noises right now! She—”

“Oh,” Tip said, reading all the omissions in Kyle’s reluctant expression. “Kyle never told us what car Smek stole.”

“Yesbut—” Oh froze. “No…”

“Smek is even better at running away than we knew,” Kyle groaned. “He attacked a senior officer and got away in Slushious. We already searched everywhere for Lucy, but he didn’t drop her off.”

He pulled a hand down his face, skewing his visor. “You’d mentioned to me before the speech that she was sleeping in the backseat. She should haves been safety at the bottom of Boov Undersurface Ramp Parking. These are crazy things that have happened…”

“You need to get her back,” Tip said quietly. “You need to get her back before she gets hurt.”

Kyle waved his hands, “No no no! It is not like that, trust me. Smek would not—” he cringed when Tip slammed her fists on his desk.

“He hurt me, didn’t he?” she yelled. “And I don’t even care! He can shush me a million trillion times for all I care! But my mom—” her voice cracked and she scrubbed angrily at the tear rolling down her cheek. “If anything happens to her…” Tip screamed and threw the papers off his desk.

“Why do you Boov always have to steal my mom?!”

*   *   *

For a split second, Kyle was sure that Gratuity was about to dive over his desk and attack him. But she just turned on her heels and stormed outside. He pitied any Boov that got in her way to wherever she was going.

Kyle sighed with guilty relief. He looked at his captain, who’d fallen silent. “I can take care of this,” Kyle said. “I will make sure everything is done for finding Lucy Tucci. You can talk to—”

“She will not want to talk to any Boov right now. Not even me.” Oh wrung his hands and stared miserably at the floor. His skin had turned a dark shade of blue.

Unsure what to say, Kyle just nodded. He cleared his throat. “Humans emotions are making her irrational—”

“She is not irrational! She has every right! Every right to be mad!” His body flushed red and then stuttered back to blue. He covered his face. “This is second time Boov has stolen Tipmom. Whyfor Boov are always taking what others care about? We are Takers!”

“C’mon, Oh,” Kyle groaned, “You are Boov Captain! Messy feelings are for humanspeople. Right now you need to focus on finding Smek and returning Lucy Tucci home.”

Oh lowered his hands and fixed him with an indescipherable expression. Which was disconcerting, because Oh was nothing if not an open book. Kyle wiggled uncomfortably in his seat. “Probablies that was the wrong things to say—”

“No,” Oh said, “you are right. Mi—Lucy Tucci is in troubles because of Boov. Now we must be fixing this mistake by bringing her back to Gratuity. We will find where Smek has taken her to.”

The last thing Kyle wanted right now was to deliver more bad news. But he’d figured out pretty quickly after becoming President that bad news was a staple of the job. He sighed and put his cop hat back on.

“We already tried to track Slushious, but it is not like other Boov or human tech. It cannot be tracked by signals. We tried reading off its GPS reciever but the coordinates come back corrupted.”

“Yes, that is how I designed Slushious forto avoid capture and erasure.” Oh’s brows pinched in thought. “I am thinking of those days right now. I am thinking of that mistake I made when talking to you on the street.”

“The party invite?” Kyle asked.

Oh nodded. “I pressed Send All and the invitation to my superfun awesome party was sent to reach all corners of galaxy. Every Boov received it and was chasing me. There was nowhere to run whereto you would has never found me.”

It was a pretty uncomfortable thing to remember that this Boov, now his Captain and his friend, was once the fugitive Kyle had hunted like a dog. How could he even apologize for that? “Um…Yeah, sorry about that.” Probably not like that.

“No no, that is not…I am only thinking, what if I made that mistake again?”

“You mean hypothetically?” Kyle asked. “I don’t really like hypotheticals, they are stupid and pointless for a Boov to waste time with. But if I guess if I could go back in time I would not be chasing you! I would be going to your party, and being your friend, and—”

“That is sweet but not what I’m saying!” Oh hopped off his chair and slapped his hands on the desk. Kyle frowned at the amount of scuffs he’d have to clean off his desk. Well, that his assistants would have to clean off. “We will make a message! A message saying Lucy Tucci is needed back to New Boovworld, wanted alive and well and happy! And Smek…Smek is wanted back.”

“And then,” Kyle grinned as he finally put the pieces together.

“Yes,” Oh said, “Send All! Every alien in galaxy will know to find and return them safely! Lucy Tucci will be back with Gratuity very soon!”

“That’s incredible thinking, Captain Oh!” Kyle threw him a salute. “How much of a bounty were you thinking?”

“Bounty—? Right!” He hummed and tapped his fingers.

Then his eyes were drawn to the papers Tip had thrown off the desk. One of the pages was wedged under his pod. It had what looked like blueprints on it. He picked it up.

“Do not be worrying about the mess,” Kyle insisted, “I will have my assistants...” He paused when Oh showed him the blueprints.

“What is this?” Oh asked. Kyle took the paper from his hand and adjusted his visor.

“This is just plans for new UltraMega Stadium Times Ten. City planners are still workshopping the name. It will add lots of funness to New Boovworld!”

“It looks expensive.”

Kyle flattened the paper out on the desk, absentmindedly running a finger around the edges. “Most expensive project to be built in our colony! Definitely worth it though, Boov would be angry if their money was used for anything else. Why?”

His Captain stared at him. He looked regretful, but not quite apologetic. Kyle’s face dropped.

“That is quite the bounty,” the president gawked. “Do you really think usurping so many funds is good idea? Smek already made a bad blow to your popularity as Captain—”

“Popularity is not important. Lucy and Gratuity are only things right now!”

There wasn’t an ounce of reluctance in the Boov Captain’s posture. He crossed his arms and gave Kyle the sternest look he’d ever had. It was strange to see the normally lighthearted Boov with his brows furrowed in a hard line over his eyes. He seemed more like a stranger than the beauty mark had made him look in Paris.

“Okay,” Kyle relented, slouching back tiredly. He took off his visor and rubbed his eyes; “I think this is bad idea, but now is not the time for me to be in arguments with you. I will call my assistants and put together a message.”

“No, I will be readying the message for galaxy,” Oh replied. He picked something up from the ground and offered it to Kyle.

The Boov President replaced his visor and gingerly accepted the round object. It was the human’s Cell Regeneration Promoter—her ice pack.

Before he could ask, Oh explained, “I am needing you to follow Gratuity and make sure she stays safe. She will not want to talk to anyone, but I do not want her being alonely.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “B-but I do not know where's to she has run off!”

“You proved when I was fugitive that you are being an excellent tracker,” Oh replied with a little smile.

“Yes-but…” he groaned. “Just be honest, is this a favor or a command or just plain payback?”

Oh grinned in that sly way he’d had in the MoPo freezer, back when he’d heard a broken car’s coughing engine. “Maybies a fun mix of all those things. Should have come to my party!”

Minutes later Kyle was searching the streets of New Boovworld for an angsty teen. Oh prepared the message offering a heavier-than-hefty bounty for a missing human and a runaway criminal Boov. The prior wanted alive and well, and the latter…well, there was some wiggle room for how he was returned.

Soon the message was ready for takeoff. Oh hesitated to hit send. The last time he'd pressed this button was by accident. It had been the latest of many hilarious mistakes, resulting in terrifying chases and crazy road-trips and wacky interspecies conflicts and friendships.

But that was a one-time thing, he thought. This time would go much more smoothly and exactly as planned. He pressed Send All.

Oh failed to appreciate that in a universe so big, not even the most unlikely of circumstances ever happen just once.

Chapter Text

The ice cream was a little disappointing. It wasn't that it was bad. Honestly, it was pretty good! Maybe even the best ice cream she’d ever had. But it wasn’t…what’s the phrase? Out of this world. And when you're visiting an alien fuel stop perched on top of a giant asteroid in the middle of space, that's kind of what you’re expecting.

Plus the alien working behind the counter made her sign a waiver before she could even look at the flavors. Usually when you have to sign a paper to eat something, it’s one of the best things you’ll ever eat in your shortened-by-several-years lifespan. This should be an action-packed Sci-fi thriller of flavor in her mouth! But it was just…ice cream.

Lucy sighed and took another lick. She’d been taking her time sitting at the parlor counter and people-watching. Normally she didn’t get much amusement from being a passive observer, but these customers weren’t regular people. Not where she was from, anyway. They came in all shapes and sizes—and that’s being literal.

There were people that looked kind of like gummy bears, if you left the pack out in the sun and then pinched them between your fingers. Someone was standing between a couple of aisles looking at the chips. Well, that was probably a person—that or some kind of spindly insect-looking hanging rack. Every so often one of its sticklike protrusions twitched.

And there were two sluglike aliens sliding around. It kind of seemed like they were a couple. Unless turning their bodies into rippling amorphous puddles of jello and merging together in a sort of alien smoothie was completely platonic. Lucy frowned and glanced around. Were they allowed to do that in public?

A weird sort of snarling sound drew her attention away from whatever was going down in aisle six. An alien burst through The Milky Way Galaxy Placestore’s doors looking like if a pro wrestler got bit by a radioactive alligator. He growled and chittered his teeth. Smek was hot on his heels, growling simliarly.

Lucy paused in the middle of a lick and watched the little Boov hop in front of the proradiogator to block his path. He waved his arms and curled his fingers. The other alien towered over him and slammed his fists together in quick, brutal succession. He lashed his tail and made a sound like two lions having an argument. And then—

He stepped around Smek and wandered over to the granola bars.

“Smek almost got himself crushed,” Lucy muttered.

“You mean the Boov over there?” the worker behind the counter asked, flicking an antenna. “Naw, that was actually a pretty civil conversation. That's just how Demilorgan talk. They're pacifists, get pushed around a lot actually.”

She turned and watched the lumbering alien try to grab a bag of chips from the rack. Unfortunately the hanging rack really did turn out to be a person. A twig-arm smacked his face and the Demilorgan scuttled off like a kicked puppy. Lucy cringed in sympathy, poor guy.

The prickling heat of someone’s gaze settled on her face. She turned and saw Smek with a hand on the door, about to go back outside to where people were fueling up. He was glaring at her. She forced a smile and raised her free hand in a wave. That only made him flush red and shove the door hard on his way out.

The hand she’d raised had Slushious’ keys looped around a finger, she realized balatantly. When they had arrived here she’d about had to pry them from his hands.

“He’s been looking for a ride,” the ice cream scooper alien guy said. He was like a giant ant, if ants learned to stand on two feet and then had to work dead end depressing jobs.

Lucy replied, “Yeah, I figured that out. We drove here together, you know. He actually stole my car while I was sleeping in the backseat and kidnapped me.”

“Oh. I hear that’s illegal in some spots.”

“Really? Huh.”

She rested her hand on her fist and took another lick of her ice cream. As soon as she was done she’d get in Slushious and head back to New Boovworld. Smek would find his own ride somewhere and they’d never see each other again. Good riddance.

A weird tingling sensation pulled her from her thoughts. It felt like there were a bunch of pop rocks going off in her stomach. Lucy reevaluated the ice cream in her hand. She warily considered how she’d ever seen anything that shade of purple before.

“What's in this stuff?” she asked.

“All sorts of things. It’s not always compatible with every species.” The worker regarded her with his big black eyes. “Didn’t you read the waiver?”

“Skimmed it, there was a lot of stuff about melting. But my ice cream has been holding up. It hasn’t even started dripping—” Lucy slapped a hand over her mouth when something detonated in her stomach and shot up her throat.

“Ooooh,” the guy said with a wince. His pincers twitched into a sort of grimace. “Yeah, it’s not the ice cream that winds up melting.”

Uh oh.

Those pop rocks turned to grenades and she took off for the bathroom. She paused in front of the seven gendered bathrooms before picking the door sign that didn’t have any suspiciously placed antennae. There was barely enough time to latch the stall door and double over the toilet. Between hacks and shudders and coughs, she heard somebody mutter by the sink, “Sounds like a number three.”

To think all Lucy had wanted today was a good nap. Now she was half-collapsed on a gross bathroom floor in an alien gas station on a giant asteroid trillions of miles from home. She would've had a more restful time if she’d just stayed on Earth and dealt with angry crowds. But it was useless to sit and mope. Better to flush her regrets down with whatever new color she’d just hacked into the toilet water. Who knew there could be a perfect blend of green and purple?

The toilet’s flush drowned out the noise of the bathroom door slamming open. What she thought was the sound of bad plumbing persisted. Something between a goat’s bleat and a rattling pipe. She squinted through the gap under her stall door and saw a bunch of purple pods rushing by, followed by a parade of little black hooves. It was Smek and some other guys…She’d definitely chosen the wrong bathroom.

There was no way for her to understand the conversation they were having. By how Smek was shouting it didn’t seem friendly. But then again, his growling chat with the Demilorgan had apparently been pretty peachy. It wasn’t any of Lucy’s business anyway. As discreetly as she could manage, she cracked open her stall door and slipped out. She made for the exit, ready to get in Slushious and head home.

Of course, something had to get in her way. What looked like pink bidepal sheep were blocking the door. It was their overwhelming cuteness more than anything that halted Lucy in her tracks. They were short, barely reaching above her waist, and looked up at her with big kitten eyes. The fuzzy caterpillar antennae on their heads twitched.

“Awwwwww,” she gushed.

One of the sheep raised a hooved finger up at her. “Are you Lucy Tucci?” he asked in an adorable squeaky little voice.

“Yes I am!” Lucy sing-songed, ready to pinch his plump little cheeks. Then she got a hold of herself and straightened up. “I mean…yes, I am. How—”

“Lucy Tucci!” screamed a much less charming voice. “These fluffy-haired freaks know you?”

She turned and glanced at Smek. He’d been pinned to the far wall by a poofy barrage of the sheep guys. He strained on his pods to peer over their heads.

“Tell these heathens I’m not going with them! They has not been listening to me!” he cried.

“I don’t know them,” Lucy said, crossing her arms. “And weren’t you looking for a ride? Why turn them down if they're offering?”

“Because they are enemies of the Boov! Despicable lying little—”

“We are so happy to have found you both!” one of the sheep aliens said. She turned away from Smek and clopped toward Lucy. She seemed nice, with big long lashes and a disarming smile that crinkled her huge doe eyes. “Mind if we do you a favor and return you to New Boovworld?”

“No!” Smek yelled. “Let me—”

The sheep lady turned and stared at him. Smek almost bit his tongue with how fast he clammed up. When she turned back to Lucy she was sweet as a doll. She extended a dainty little hoof.

“I am the leader of my people, the Sheps! My name is Elrod, but you may call me El!” she greeted with a couple tinkerbell blinks.

Lucy shook El’s hoof as gently as she could. “It’s nice to meet you! So how do you know who I am, and that I’m going to New Boovworld?”

“Of course! It would be rude of me not to explain.” She parted the wool on her wrist and tapped a silvery bracelet. A line of pink smoke hissed upward and condensed into a cloud near the ceiling. An image flickered to life within the roiling steam.

“Hello, alien friends of Milky Way Galaxy!” a scrapbook-styled animation of Oh greeted enthusiastically. “This is an alert for two wanted missing persons!” A bunch of dancing question marks filled the cloud; “For how much bounty, you are asking?” The dotted marks turned to shiny spilling coins. “THIS MUCH!”

A ridiculously long line of glittering gold digits spelled out the amount. Think of the biggest number you can—yeah, you’re still short of it. There were too many zeros to count, along with the necessary 0.99 tacked on at the end. Lucy’s jaw dropped. She thought she heard Smek say, “Goodbye UltraMega Stadium Times Ten.”

The numbers dissolved and a smiling image of Lucy’s face appeared. “Lucy Tucci is needed back to New Boovworld alive and happy and healthy and completely intact!” Her photo spun into a blur and then stilled into an image of Smek. “Disgraced Former Captain Smek is wanted alive,” Oh’s voice said vaguely.

“Okay wow,” Smek grumbled.

“Bring them to New Boovworld and I will make you rich for life!” scrapbook-Oh promised over a loop of falling cash. “We will be seeing you shortly! Goodbye and thanking you!”

The message ended and the hologram-cloud dissipated, filling the bathroom with a thin pink mist. It made the air smell like strawberries and stung the back of Lucy’s throat. She coughed harshly.

“I will get you a glass of hydrogen dioxide on the ship,” El offered sweetly.

“That’s nice of you,” Lucy coughed, flapping her hand, “but I don’t need a ride! I’m driving back in my car.”

El gave her a look like Lucy was the adorable alien. “No,” she smiled, “you are coming with us.”

A horrible feeling churned in her gut, and this time it wasn’t ice cream eating her stomach lining. Lucy glanced at the bathroom door, weighing her chances of getting past the Sheps standing in front of it. They were pretty small—oh, and now they were grinning at her with rows of razor-sharp teeth. That wasn’t happening.

“I’m in danger right now, aren’t I?” she asked a little tiredly.

The Sheps’ bellpeal laughter did nothing to ease her tension. “Of course not!” El chortled. “Didn’t you see Captain Oh’s message? If I’m going to get all the bounty, you need to be totally unharmed! Which will be a lot easier to pull off if you do the smart thing and cooperate,” she said with a little wink.

It seemed like Lucy was stuck between a rock and a fluffy place. Things could be worse. She sighed. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I just want to get back to my kids, it doesn't matter how I get there.”

“Smart thinking!” El congratulated. “You know human beings are known around the universe for their intelligence!”

“Likehow I said!” Smek yawped. “Little liars! I will not let you take me!” He peeled off the wall and tried to shove through. They must have flashed him a smile because he blanched yellow and scrambled back. “No no no! Lucy Tucci—attack! Attack them for ice cream!”

“Calm down Smek,” Lucy huffed. “You’ll be fine, Oh wants us back alive and well.”

“You're both wanted back alive,” El said with a little wave of her hooved finger. “But only Lucy Tucci is wanted back well!”

That didn’t sound good. Neither did the whine that warbled out of Smek’s throat. Suddenly Lucy was feeling pretty grateful for the words happy and healthy and intact.

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t like Smek,” Lucy chuckled nervously. “You must know him,” she deadpanned.

El tipped her head. “I’m actually quite partial to Smek.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes, I’ve never seen another Boov with nostricles like his. They're usually so curly-twirly. I can’t wait to see how they taste! We’re making nostricle soup.”

“Reeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Lucy balked. “But—the message said—”

“Alive, but not intact!” El smiled innocently. Imagine cotton candy Shirley Temple. “And for invading our home planet and getting it destroyed by the Gorg, I think Smek can lend an ear to our complaints! Or maybe two.” She grinned and all her little fangs were on display. Imagine cotton candy Shirley Temple fed after midnight.

“Oh god,” Lucy groaned. “Listen, Smek invaded my planet too! And left us to get destroyed by the Gorg—”

“Good! So you won’t make yourself a problem? ”

“Well—”

“I’d hate to lose any bounty because Lucy Tucci was returned a little chewed up.”

“No problems here!” She showed her palms. “But—remember how you're supposed to keep me happy? To get all your money?”

The Shep tapped her hoof on the ground. Lucy feared what it was like when she really lost all her patience. “What is it? You’ll only be happy if we leave the Boov alone? The one that invaded both our planets and left us for dead?” Her soft lip twitched over a fang, and Lucy knew there was nothing she could say to help Smek.

Suddenly that ice cream swung around for a final gut-punch. Lucy really wished she’d known what kind of damage alien snacks could do. But when the wave of naseau passed, it left an idea in its wake. Was it a good idea? No, she mused. Definitely not. She shouldn’t even entertain it.

If Lucy just went along with the Sheps, they’d bring her straight back to New Boovworld and she’d reunite with her kids. Things would be simple.

She glanced at Smek. With the way he was cowering and holding onto his nostricles, he kind of looked like Oh when the foot of the Gorg mothership had lifted. Because things could never be simple for Lucy Tucci.

“I was just gonna say,” she grumbled, “if you want me to be happy, you’ll let me grab some snacks for the ride back.”

Chapter Text

It’s never too late to run away. That was the official Boov motto, and it had its charms, but it was not at all true. For example: when a Boov is stuck without the keys to his vehicular escape pod and surrounded by a bunch of murderous nostricle-soup eating Sheps, then it is too late to run away. There was probably a more useful motto for the Boov to go by. Maybe: If it’s too late to run, it’s time to cut a deal.

And boy, was it time to cut a deal! As soon as the humansperson was done picking out all her snacks, they'd be loading up on the ship. Then they'd be on their way to New Boovworld for the Sheps to hand them over and collect their bounty. And after shushing the Captain's pet human, he was definitely getting erased. Without his nostricles he wouldn’t even get to properly perform the Boov Death Song.

All around, it was just a sucky situation. At least with Lucy Tucci taking her sweet time picking out her snacks, he had time to devise an offer the Sheps couldn’t refuse! Not if they had an ounce of the brains the Boov had. Hopefully they didn't even have a full ounce, actually, because he was going to be lying right through his blocky teeth.

“You know, I was actually about to be re-elected as Boov Captain!” Smek quipped, prodding his fingers together.

He was standing in front of their ship, which kind of looked like a giant styrofoam mold of a banana split. The Sheps surrounded him on all sides while they waited for Lucy and the others to arrive. A couple dozen pairs of kitten eyes turned to drill him with adorable malice.

Elrod’s antennae twitched. “Is that so?” Her voice was sugar laced with rat poison.

“Yes it is! Why do you think Captain Oh chased me off New Boovworld to begin with?”

His eyes darted around for a space in the moat of pink wool surrounding him. No go. He wrung his hands, remembering why it was so handy to have the Shusher to occupy them. “I mean,” he huffed, “everyone knows I am the superior Boov! As soon as I get back to New Boovworld, Oh will be overthrowed and I will be back on the top! Nobody will take that imbecile seriously ever again.”

“Nobody will take a Boov seriously that does not have nostricles,” El giggled.

“Yes,” he grabbed his nostricles protectively, “about that!” He gave her a wry kind of smile; “Since I am about to be Boov Captain again, I think we could make a deal! If you let me go now, and get me the keys from that humansperson, I will go back to New Boovworld by myself! And when I am Captain, you can have all of Oh’s supporters! That is lots of Boov soup!”

El hummed, tapping a hoof against her chin. “What an interesting offer! You really are a special kind of Boov.”

For a second the sun shone through the clouds. Well, there wasn’t a sun here, or any clouds, but—you get the gist. Smek grinned and this time it was genuine. “So it is a deal, then!”

“No,” El shook her head and his grin dropped like dead weight, “I only mean it is interesting how you lie without turning green.”

“ARE YOU—SERIOUSLY?” Smek cried. He flung his hands in the air, “Why does everyone give me grief about that?! It is just a pigmentation defect! And why is the humansperson taking so long?” he complained, even though he literally had no reason to be upset about it.

He rambled, “She is picky! Took her several minutes just to pick out ice cream flavor and they only has three options! Purple, Not-Purple and Extra-Wow-That's-Really-Purple! And everyone knows Not-Purple is the best—”

Right now irritation was the only upward track before the coaster dipped right down into to the wild loop-de-loops of incapacitating fear. He held on to it for as long as possible, pacing in the tiny space the Sheps allowed him and complaining about everything from Captain Oh’s incompetence to the texture of the ground he was walking on.

But Lucy was taking forever, and he was getting to that part of the ride where you slow to an almost-stop and teeter over a drop more steep than you’re ready to accept.

“—and, and, it is annoying that…” His skin sank from red to yellow and he squeezed his eyes shut. The coaster dropped, “For the sake of all that is good and cowardly!! Please don’t—”

“Here we are!” a Shep announced.

Smek froze, peaking through his nostricles that he’d pulled down in front of his face. Lucy’s ‘chaperones’ were guiding her over to the ship. Upon seeing what she’d taken so long to get, the coaster did a physics-defying backward roll.

He was about to complain but Elrod beat him to the punch. “That is what took so long?” she scoffed, poking a hoof to the little chapstick-tube of tacs clutched in Lucy’s hand.

“We apologize,” a Shep said miserably, “she only wanted the snacks they keep behind glass and locks and a couple defense mechanisms. Only digestible for a select few species. Apparently humans are one of them, because she would not be happy until she got it,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry it took so long. I had to sign a lot of forms and answer some really strange questions,” Lucy explained a little nervously, shaking the tacs. “It asked, ‘Are you a robot?’ And I said no, but apparently if I said yes I would have gotten a special discount! Then I had to confirm that I am, in fact, an alien—”

“I think we’ve already wasted enough time,” El said with a pinched little smile. She gestured to the ship and the Sheps parted like the Pink Sea. They made a clear path to the ship’s door, which opened like acid was eating a hole in the hull. “Humans first,” she purred.

“Thank you…” Lucy hesitantly walked forward. The gaze of the Sheps that followed were sharp as spears on the human’s back.

The door that had eaten away a sizzling gap in the styro-ship was right in front of her, a few more steps and she was in. Lucy paused, and the icy stares immediately turned into something with heat.

El asked, “Sore feet?” and it was a gruesome little promise for something worse.

They were expecting her to run. They weren’t expecting her to fix Smek with an angry glare. He was held off to her side, caught in the grip of a couple Sheps while they waited for her to board. The Boov startled at her sudden scrutiny.

Lucy turned on him, bristling and aiming her finger like a pistol. “You knew, didn’t you?” she snapped. Her voice swelled with fury.

Smek blanched. He hardly even noticed when the Sheps dropped his arms. They hopped backwards to put some space between themselves and the human, whose teeth suddenly seemed as sharp as their own.

“What are you—” he flinched when Lucy advanced on him.

“The ice cream!” she yelled. “You knew it would make me sick! You probably thought it would kill me! That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?!”

“No no no!” he waved his hands and glanced at El, of all people, for help. But she’d already raised her hoof to halt any Sheps from intervening. He caught a glimpse of amusement in her eyes before Lucy’s burning glare siphoned all his attention.

“You wanted me dead so you could take Slushious!” she yelled, balling her hands into fists. “That was your plan, I know it was! You can’t lie to me!”

“I didn’t—I wasn't—I’m not—” it felt like he was scrambling for purchase on the crest of an avalanche. “You’re being crazy!” he shouted, flushing red.

“Crazy!” Lucy yelled and sent him right back to yellow. “Just let me show you crazy!!”

Sheps scattered when the human lunged forward and snagged Smek by the nostricles. Elrod laughed with manic elation.

“Look at the human!” she hollered, doubling over. “She’s giving that Boov what-for! Hahahahaha!” Tears sprang in her eyes as she watched Lucy pass by, rushing backwards and pulling Smek along. Her inferiors stood by and waited nervously for orders to break it up.

“Ow ow ow stop stop stop!” Smek clung onto her wrists and scrabbled for traction as she dragged him away from the ship. The bottoms of his pods started to burn with how hard he’d been digging them into the pavement.

“Help now!” he screamed, prying his head as much as he could. Lucy had pulled him far away from the Sheps, he could barely see their pink wool in his periphery. “Help me!”

“I am!” Lucy yelled. She let go of his nostricles and he toppled onto his back.

Smek propped himself up on his elbows. “Whatnow?” he gawked.

Lucy pulled something from her pocket and tossed it at him; he caught it with a little wince. It was Slushious’ key fob.

A bleating shriek cut across the parking lot. “She’s helping him escape!” Elrod screamed.

She’d completely dropped the cutesy facade and her face looked downright demonic. Her lips pulled back in a snarling sort of scowl, revealing fangs that stretched far beyond her plump little cheeks. “Catch them catch them catch them!” She stomped the ground and threw a fit.

The Sheps crept forward with all their pointy teeth on display. Lucy uncapped the bottle of tacs and poured them in her palm. They looked like little aspirin. “Smek,” she said, “run—”

He heard it in the distance. Smek was nowhere in the perimeter of that particular funfest.

“Where is the Boov?!” Elrod screamed. “Where is the Boov? Where is the—”

“—key? Where is the key?” Smek was hunkered down in Slushious’ driver’s seat and fumbling the fob in his hands. He’d unlocked the car and leapt inside, and now he was ready to leave the Sheps and Lucy and bad ice cream in the rear view mirror. But the ignition key wasn’t there!

Smek balked when he realized it. Lucy still had the key, she’d separated it from the fob. She must have known he would take off without her. He groaned and peered over the wheel. The crazy human was facing down two dozen Sheps. She was about to get chewed up, and then he was next on the menu. Literally.

He mostly felt bad for himself, but he could offer some pity to Lucy. Clearly she wasn’t intelligent enough to run away, and now she would face the consequences of her stupid bravery. The poor thing was completely helpless.

*   *   *

“EAT ASPIRIN!!” Lucy screamed and threw a full handful of tacs—or fifty pages worth of warnings and waivers and skull-graphics—right into the poofy, toothy crowd of snarling Sheps. It was like a volcanic explosion of elephant’s toothpaste erupted from below their hooves. A heaping mass of foam swallowed them in its frothy maw before they could even utter a bleat.

The stuff continued to expand, swallowing every ship in its wake, and barely stopped short of Lucy. She took a couple nervous steps away from the settling, hissing foam. It suddenly occurred to her that she may have just dissolved a bunch of people. She grimaced and prodded the wall of white in front of her. Nope, everyone was fine! Well, it sizzled some of the hair off her hand, so maybe they were a little…bald. But alive, at least!

Lucy wiped the leftover foam on her shirt and glanced over at Slushious. Smek was stationed behind the wheel, as she'd figured. Either he’d dislocated his jaw, or he really hadn’t been expecting her to win that confrontation. Obviously he’d known it wasn’t a fair fight. But he failed to consider that she was a mom who needed to return, un-chewed, to her kids. The Sheps never stood a chance.

Now it was time to get in the car and get back to New Boovworld, to Tip and Oh. Lucy ran for the car and reached into her back pocket for the ignition key. She raised it for Smek to see, gesturing for him to move into the passenger seat. There was no way she was letting him drive. But he stayed where he was and made a bunch of crazy hand motions back. Was that some sort of erratic Boov sign language? Or was he pointing at something off to her left—

The world seemed to tilt, the cement of the parking lot swinging from below her feet to crash into her side. She rolled, and beyond the animalistic snarling in her ear, she heard the delicate jingle of the ignition key landing several feet away. Hearing and feeling consumed her senses until the tumble concluded. When she finally opened her eyes, there was little else she could process but the terrifying depths of bloodlust in those adorable doe-eyes.

“You're ruining everything!!” Elrod screamed in her face. There was a tiny part of Lucy’s brain that hadn’t accepted she was about to get ripped up by this thing. That part wondered how El got her breath to stay so minty-fresh.

The Shep balled her hooves tight into the fabric of her shirt and snarled, “You had a safe trip right back to New Boovworld! We were going to give you anything to make you happy! And you gave all that up, for him?!” She pointed a hoof and Lucy craned her head.

Smek froze at their sudden attention. He was crouched over the ignition key, reaching to pick it up. “Uhhh,” he chuckled, quickly snagging it, “don’t mind me!”

“You're free to go,” El grinned. “I’ve changed my dinner plans!”

Lucy snagged El by the scruff right before the Shep could launch a buzz-saw attack on her face. They wrestled and rolled across the pavement, and through the whirlwind of thrashing wool Lucy caught a glimpse of Smek diving into Slushious. He’d take off without her and then she'd be desserted. That's not a spelling error, either.

Pure survival instinct gave her the pulse of strength she needed to finally throw El across the lot. Lucy tried to scramble to her feet but her legs weren’t quite ready to hold her. She was shaking and wobbling. El bounced back a lot faster.

“Forget about the bounty!” Her fangs gnashed while she spoke. “Eating such an infuriating creature as yourself is a greater reward!”

The Shep charged, sprinting across the lot with all the unhinged desperation of a rabid animal. Lucy couldn't find it in herself to look away. For a few freezing seconds, Lucy was just a deer staring into oncoming headlights. At least she had the dignity of seeing the approaching car. El was totally side-swiped.

“BAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

The bleating scream faded out as Elrod flew across the parking lot. She took a hard roll, then laid in a miserable groaning heap of frazzled fluff.

“Eat that, you murderous little freak!” Smek yelled. His knuckles strained white where he gripped the wheel. He leaned out the window to glare down at Lucy; a rippling sort of reluctance crossed his scowl, there and gone just as fast.

“Find your own car!” he snapped, feeling nice and snug in Lucy’s own car.

Shock was still fading from her mind when Slushious hovered high off the ground. The tires turned horizontal and tucked into the wheel wells. “No,” Lucy whispered. Her voice rose; “NO, SLUSHIOUS!”

The headlamps shuttered into a glare and Smek gawked when the systems suddenly jammed. “What?” he yelped. His hands turned into a blur on the console. None of the controls responded to his commands. “Come on!” he whined. “Work, you lousy beast!”

“She won’t leave without me!” Lucy called up. She knew it was a crazy thing to say, but lately everything was crazy.

“No,” Smek said, “that is nonsense! That…”

He groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Without really letting himself think about it, he released the parking break and let the car drop down with a shuddering impact. “Get in!” he yelled.

Lucy toppled into the backseat. She rolled on her back, heaving and staring up at nothing as Slushious lifted off. The controls were responding again and Smek was muttering about inconvenient coincidences. The engine’s purr pitched into a roar and they took off with a tail of frothy bubbles behind them. Briefly, they both relaxed an inch. Smek prepared the car for warpspeed.

They had no way of knowing that somebody's tracking drone had just caught them in its sights. And just as Smek hit the button to activate warpspeed, a green laser like a peel of lightning struck the slushy fuel tank. The buzzing tunnel of warped spacetime greeted Slushious like a washing machine, spinning and tossing the car about like a wet rag.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Smek and Lucy screamed in perfect unison. If it weren’t for the car’s personal gravitational field they’d be a couple of beads inside a maraca.

The fuel tank bled out and Slushious’ headlamps squinted wearily. The car dipped out of warpspeed like a surfer falling from the barrel of a wave. Rushing excitement of stretched space plunged into the icy coolness of an unmoving void. The car’s exhaust spewed a couple spare bubbles, a defeated sigh before the headlamps fully closed.

Lucy sighed similarly as Smek pawed desperately at the controls. Slushious’ fuel was completely drained. They were trapped in space together with no way to escape. The same thought crossed both their minds at the same time: maybe nostricle soup wouldn’t have been so bad.

Chapter Text

“No no no no no! This can't be happening, this can’t be happening! Slushious, I command you to listen!”

Smek pressed every button and turned every dial. He slammed his pods on the pedal and wrenched the wheel. But Slushious was out of fuel, and they weren’t going anywhere. Red spread like a blemish across his yellow skin. He slammed his fists against the dash; “Useless junk!”

“Hey!” Lucy snapped from the backseat. “You don’t get to hit my car!”

“I don’t get to do anything! I’m dead!” Smek wailed. He whirled on her, and the glittering terror in his eyes struck like diamond flints. “Don’t you get it, you stupid humansperson?!” Fear and anger twisted into a grisly live-wire of unbridled emotion: “We’re both dead! We're never getting out of here! We’re never going home!!”

His whole demeanor dissolved into one of total desperation. As advanced as Boov were, they still had that evolutionary animal coiled within their DNA. Right now Smek’s had taken full control, and all he could think of was to escape. He flung around the front seat, pawing at the windows and shoving against the sides. A door's panel cracked and the noise broke Lucy out of her shock.

“Smek, you have to calm down!” she urged. “If you break open a door—” Then they’d be dead much faster. She didn’t know enough about space to know exactly what would happen. Maybe they'd freeze or suffocate or something worse, but the end result would be the same. And she’d never see Tip and Oh ever again.

Trying to explain as much to Smek right now was completely futile. All his mounting stress from the day had finally reached its peak, and now it snowballed with every inch that it barreled downward. Any words Lucy said to him might as well get sucked into space in advance.

Creeeeak!!

The passenger door complained when Smek slammed his weight against it once more. A couple more blows and it would be torn off its hinges. He drew back, preparing all his energy for another shove. Lucy was scrambling into the driver's seat when it landed. The door’s molded panel split and dented. Just one more blow, and they were done for.

As Smek scuttled backward to ready his final shove, Lucy was curling her hand into a fist. “Sorry,” she said with a guilty little grimace. He was about to bust the door and suck them both into an endless void. It was with that horrifying image in her head that Lucy landed her own blow first.

Her knuckles dug into the top of Smek’s head, in the spot directly between the raised horns of his nostricles. His body slumped like she’d just evicted his soul, and way too many pounds of limp weight toppled onto her. “Oh boy,” Lucy wheezed, “you weigh like a thousand pounds!” Every bruise from her tussle with El sent a personal complaint as she heaved him back into the passenger seat.

“Okay,” she sighed, sitting back. “Crisis averted! I’ll apologize for this when you're actually…lucid.”

Smek wasn't unconscious or asleep, but he was basically just a ball of jelly. His nostricles drooped down his back, and there wasn’t an ounce of stress to hitch his shoulders or wrinkle his closed eyes. Lucy was honestly a little jealous. She couldn’t remember ever being that relaxed in her entire life. But she knew from Oh that he’d only be deactivated for a few more minutes. Pretty soon he’d be lucid again, and generously make it her problem. In the meantime she could try and figure out her own solution with Slushious’ controls.

“Maybe there’s some kind of help signal I can send out,” Lucy talked aloud to no one in particular. It helped her think.

She messed around with the radio Oh had converted into a type of control panel. Every random combination of buttons had some wacky response programmed. A grill roller appeared from the dash, some kind of nacho cheese blaster reared up outside, and a hidden compartment lifted to reveal a secret stash of air fresheners.

“Oh my god, Oh, you told me you’d finally quit these!” she scolded. “I knew there was a reason your breath always smells like New Car!” She groaned and sat back. “I really wish I could yell at you right now…” Her eyes felt damp and she scrubbed them angrily. Slushious’ engine made a groaning type of noise; it sounded apologetic.

“It’s okay, Slushious,” she said, patting the wheel. “You’ve done your best. Thanks for not leaving me back at the Placestore. When we get back I’ll get you a fresh oil change and a good car wash, okay?”

The car shuddered and a couple bubbles coughed from the exhaust.

“Yes, I know the car wash at the MoPo scratches your paint. I’ll take you to the really nice one across town. I’ll get you the gold wash.”

The engine growled.

“No, the Deluxe is way too expensive! Is this about the handsome older gentleman that vacuums the carpets? Yes, I know him! It’s why I’ve spent too much money doing the Deluxe already! Ha! Slushious, girl, I think we have similar OH MY GOD HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN STARING AT ME.”

“I regained meaningful consciousness right before you lost yours,” Smek replied dryly. “Perhaps it is natural for humanspersons to converse with non-sentient objects. Next I will find out you has a pet rock.”

“NO I—well, not since primary school,” she conceded a little angrily. “But I’m coping a lot better than you were! You almost got us killed by breaking open a door! You’re lucky I—” she halted. A little awkwardly, she turned to look out her window. “Well…you know.” After a minute of uncomfortable silence, she glanced at him.

The Boov was pouting, which wouldn’t be so unusual if he didn’t look so subdued. Most of his tension had returned if the hunch of his shoulders was any indication. He crossed his arms in a petulant kind of way and glared down at his pods. He was acting like Tip did, those couple of times when Lucy had met her inside the principal’s office for getting in a fight. Like he was trying to feel mad but he mostly just felt trapped.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Lucy said. His glower just deepened and his shoulders raised to new heights. He was really acting like her thirteen-year-old daughter.

“Look, I know Boov are really sensitive about that pressure point you all have. It’s not something I would ever use against you unless it was life or death! And it was life or death.” When he didn’t reply right away, she tagged on, “Come on, you know that!”

“What I want to know,” Smek finally replied, still refusing to make eye contact, “is how you know of such an embarrassing Boov weakness in the first place. But I already know!” he yawped. “Captain Oh is telling all secrets to humanspersons in exchange for living with them! He really has abandoned the Boov, just as I said before.”

“Hey,” Lucy snapped, “hey, look at me right now!” He threw a sideways glare at her, but it was like shooting a water gun at a fire hose. “You don’t get to talk about my kid like that!”

“I has said nothing about Gra—”

“I’m talking about Oh! Yes, he’s my kid too,” she said to Smek’s incredulous stare, “and he tells us things because he trusts his family, not because he’s selling anyone out! He cares about the Boov, and he’s going to be a much better Captain than you were.”

Smek laughed, the kind of laugh that sounds like an insult by itself. He crossed a couple pods and glared out the windshield. “Boov Captain is not a job for just any random schmuck. Especially not someone like Oh,” he sneered. “I am the rightful Captain because I am genetically designed to be a perfect Boov specimen!”

Now it was Lucy’s turn for a good laugh. She crossed her arms over the wheel and laid her head down on the horn.

“What?” Smek yapped. “What is so funny?” He gathered all his courage just to give her a jab on the shoulder.

“Come on Smek,” Lucy half-chuckled, half-groaned. “I know you've got this big ego you put in front of yourself. With how you talk to everyone, and the way you hold your nostricles up like this all the time,” she braced her elbows on the wheel and mimicked their horned posture.

Smek gasped in offense, grabbing his nostricles like they would run off in shame. “They are naturally like this—”

“No they’re not. But seriously, do you actually think that you're perfect? That you’ve never made a mistake? Because nobody has ever been born that never made a single mistake.”

His mouth opened and closed, and his eyes darted around. Then he fixed her with an insistent look; “They really do naturally stand up like this!”

Apparently Smek was gonna be stuck on that bit.

“You sound like my hot friend,” Lucy said with a wan little smile. “She doesn’t fool me and neither do you.”

That joke flew over his head like a football through his field-goal nostricles. But he did understand that she wasn’t taking him seriously, and that was enough to make him flush red.

“I am not lying! Like-how I said, I am specially designed for role of Boov Captain! And all Captains have nostricles such as these. Oh is the first average-citizen Boov to steal the job and ruin the royal bloodline…” He muttered the last part.

“You sound so bitter.”

“I am not bitter,” he said bitterly with a bitter expression.

Lucy sat and thought. Normally she didn’t care that much about Boov culture and politics. But while Smek was quietly stewing in his frustration—and checking the mirror to make sure his nostricles were still standing up properly—Lucy tried gazing out the window. The void around them was so vast it crushed her lungs. Right now, even Smek’s voice was a welcome distraction.

“So…” she tried to sit as casually as she could. She tapped the console between them. “One of your parents was a Captain, then?”

The Boov gave her an irritated look. The kind Tip gave her when they’d been on their fourth round of Uno and Lucy still couldn't remember the rules. “Boov do not have parents,” he snipped. “Such familial terms are unsavory! No, one of my genetic donors was Captain,” he explained irritably. “Then when he was close to retirement he found a Boov that nearly matched his level of competence. They got to know each other,” he laced his fingers together, “and then—”

It was probably pretty immature for a woman in her thirties to blanch and wave her hands. Lucy laughed, “You don’t have to go into the details! Trust me, I know the birds and the bees.”

“There are no birds or bees involved,” Smek said with a squint. “Only genetic splicing to combine superior traits of each donor. Then the resulting future Boov Captain is given proper nutrientment while growing up inside the royal incubator.”

A heavy feeling settled against Lucy’s chest, and this time it wasn’t the oppressive weight of space. “Did you have any podlings? Oh said he had lots of podlings.”

“Ha! Podlings are for average Boov. I had my incubator all to myself, very spacey,” Smek smiled.

More than anything it sounded lonely. Lucy swallowed. “Did you know your genetic—” no, she couldn't say it, it sounded gross, “you know, your mom and dad?”

“Both my donors were male.”

“Oh,” she blinked, then fumbled, “uh…congratulations?”

“And I knew the prior Captain only for trainingment,” Smek rambled on. “He taught me many important things when I was young Boov. Like how to yell very loud when people are not listening to you. Or how to Shush when they are talking too much. Or to always hold up your nos—” he slapped a hand over his mouth, but she caught the slip-up.

“I knew it,” Lucy whispered.

“You know nothing!” he cried, latching onto her arm. She stiffened up and he immediately let go. His face turned a little yellow. “I mean…” he fumbled his hands.

So she wasn’t imagining it. Even with all the sass and snide comments from Smek, there was a new tilt in the air between them. Lucy thought she could feel it back when he’d been pouting and refusing to make eye contact. Now, with the barest of body language she could make him drop his snark like a hot plate. He seemed to think one wrong move could land him in hotter water.

Using his pressure point before had really affected him, even more than she’d thought. She supposed having an effective off-switch would disturb any creature as fearful and physically vulnerable as a Boov. Outside of their intellect, the aliens were basically walking, talking soft spots. Maybe it would make things easier for Lucy to keep Smek wringing his hands. But she didn’t get any satisfaction from seeing him so anxious.

“It’s alright, Smek, relax! I’m just saying,” she tapped his shoulder with a fist and offered a teasing smile, “if you ever wanna let your nostricles down around me, go for it! It’ll be our secret!” She zipped her lips and tossed the key.

Smek blinked, then very precisely copied the fist tap. “And I’ll keep a secret what a disillusioned simpleton you are,” he snarked. Lucy laughed and his shoulders dropped like she’d cut a wire.

“You know,” he grinned, “I really enjoy the questions game! It is a nice distraction from our inevitable deaths trapped in space with nobody to hear our screams. I think we should take turns until then! My turn now!”

Very unreasonably, Lucy expected Smek to ask her a question. But then he sidled over, pressing into her side to look directly into the rear view mirror; “Just how does such a devilishly handsome Boov get away with it for so long?” He moved around to admire himself from all angles. Lucy swore he was shifting into her on purpose. “Surely there must be regulations for this sort of thing,” he purred, wiping back his nostricles like you’d slick back your hair.

Apparently Lucy had done well to relieve the tension. He’d gone from treating her like a porcupine to deciding they should share a seat. “Knock it off, Smek,” she complained from where she was smushed against the door, “You know full well you can just adjust the mirror!”

“Can I?” he asked innocently, moving the mirror. “Since it is humanstech I did not expect such advanced capa—” He froze.

“What is that?” he gawked.

“Probably just my ribs being crushed,” Lucy complained, digging her elbow into his squishy side. He scrambled to the backseat and she sighed in relief.

Then she heard the thunk-thunk-thunk of his finger tapping the back windshield. “No,” he said, “what is that?”

Lucy twisted around to see what he was on about. She squinted. A subtle green light flashed like a blinker at the back of the car. “There's something on the bumper,” she said with wide eyes.

“Humangenius of the year!” Smek cried. “But what is it?!”

“How should I know?” she scoffed. “But that green color, it reminds me of the laser that hit the car and broke the fuel tank. Maybe it has something to do with that?”

It was hard to tell since he was away from the glowing controls in the front seat, but Lucy swore she saw Smek’s skin grow several shades paler.

“Oh no,” he grimaced, “it’s a tracker. A tracker for finding downed vehicles. It accompanies the laser.”

“What?!” Lucy cried with elation. It felt like wedding doves were released in her chest. “But that's good! That means someone is coming to find us! Who cares if we don’t know who they are? Someone’s coming to get us out of here!”

“I know that green light,” he replied. By the sound of his voice, Lucy’s wedding was his funeral. “I know who it is that is coming.” He pressed a finger to the back window, and the glass squealed when he dragged it over a certain speck in the far distance. “There it is,” he squeaked.

And there it was. Lucy could barely see it, a dark speck against a dark backdrop pricked with stars. Right now it was barely the size of her fingernail, but she could make out its pyramidal shape. Not so long and it would be bearing down over them, the size of a planet.

“The Gorg,” Lucy gasped.

Just saying the name was a new deactivation trick. Smek’s eyes rolled back and he fainted in the backseat. Lucy prodded his shoulder, but the Boov was out cold. She hummed. She really wouldn’t use his pressure point again—but she kind of hoped this was something she could keep in her back pocket. When he woke up where he would, she had the strangest feeling he wouldn’t be handling it with grace.

Chapter Text

Tip pulled her hood over her head as she stalked through the streets of New Boovworld. It didn’t add any sort of subtlety to her human silhouette, but at least it did something to hide the tear tracks on her face. She’d run out of Kyle’s office and kept on running until she was deep within the city. Boov were being slow to return from the Common Dome, so it was pretty empty. Tip could wander around without too much attention for being the only non-alien (well, technically the only alien if you want to be weird about it). And the city was a nice distraction from her feelings. It was as strange and new as she could have ever hoped.

New Boovworld was like an eclectic old lady’s shelf, full of snow globes and weird kindergarten crafts her grandchildren made and she was too sweet to throw away. Most of the buildings had a dome shape, and she guessed the giant caviar clumps of bubbles were apartments. The city’s version of skyscrapers looked like stacks of marshmallows stuck through with wooden picks. Strings of bubble-vehicles coasted around the sky, twisting around buildings like floss between teeth. Encapsulating the entirety of the city was an enormous dome, not glass but some kind of film that wobbled whenever a ship passed through. Everything here had soft edges and a goofy design, like it was drawn out by a little kid.

But there was a strange kind of coldness within the city’s simplicity. Tip knew the Boov did not waste thought with aesthetic modifications. Everything was built for perfect efficiency. Any look of casualty came from the wastefulness of a professional guise. Boov were just like that, Tip mused. They seemed all adorable and harmless and naive. In some ways, they were. But they were also efficient to a point that was pretty terrifying. A planet was basically theirs from the moment they decided it was. When they invaded, they showed up and went straight to business. No ‘take me to your leader’ lines or lasers of destruction. They didn’t have to be hostile, that would just waste their precious time. They could sweep your home right out from under your feet without breaking a sweat. Or if you were Tip, they could steal your mom. Twice.

The only Boov on her side of the street yelped and dove for safety—into oncoming bubble traffic. Only then did Tip realize she was growling through her teeth. She paused and watched a multi-car pileup; fortunately on New Boovworld, that was just a bunch of bubbles popping. Everyone was fine, so she didn’t feel too guilty for scurrying away from the scene. A bunch of Boovish help signals sprang into the sky like red balloons. There was already a traffic cop approaching from the distance. Tip groaned, hoping she wouldn’t get in trouble for something that was barely her fault.

Before turning a corner, Tip stopped to double-check that everything was fine. The traffic cop had arrived to the scene. His back was turned to her as he collected reports from the accident. He was talking to the guy that jumped into traffic to get away from Tip. She was slow to realize that the scaredy-Boov was pointing right at her. Before she could hide, the traffic cop had already turned to look. Their eyes met and Tip’s shoulders raised. “Kyle,” she muttered at the same time he called out, “Gratuity!” He turned to throw out some quick orders to the Boov on the street. By the time he turned back around, about two seconds later, Tip was vanished from view.

She grabbed her hood and pulled it closer around her face. She could hear Kyle off in the distance. He was yelling her name like she was a missing cat. He sounded kind of frantic to find her. Whatever. She’d slipped through his fingers many times during the days of Smekland, and she could do it again. Her sights landed on a hose-tube sticking out of a building near the end of the block. The hose twisted and waved like a sideways inflatable fly guy, the type you’d see dancing outside of a car dealership. It would vacuum her into the building and she could hide out until Kyle was gone. Tip smirked at her own cleverness and made a run for it.

Then she skidded to a halt when a random Boov swung in front of her. He had the Boovish equilvalent of slicked-back hair and a handlebar mustache. A bunch of camera-bubbles hovered around him like loyal pets. They spanned out to surround the pair. Inside of the bubbles, Tip could see the live news footage that they were broadcasting. This ambush was being recorded from all angles. The focus shifted to the reporter as he brought a microphone close to his award-winning smile.

“Gratuity Tucci,” he said and he sounded like every bright-eyed sleazy news reporter ever, “Captain Oh’s preferred human! What a wonderful coincidence that I has found you! This’ll be a great story!”

“Who are you?” Tip asked automatically, but she didn’t really care who he was. She tried to sidestep him but he hopped to block her path. He eyed her up and down like she was a wonderful forecast of all the views he was gonna get.

“Why, my name is Hitch! That’s with an ‘H’, sweetheart,” he said with a little wink, leaning closer and adjusting the bowtie pinned to the top of his vest.

“Really?” Tip deadpanned. “I thought it started with a B.”

“No, my name’s not—” Hitch paused, thinking. “Anyway,” he laughed, and his laugh sounded like a great fiscal quarter, “I’m a reporter for CBSLZXI—” he listed off some letters she didn’t recognize, “and I was just on my way to check out a very unfortunate pileup right around the block! But you’re more interesting,” he said honestly with a little shrug.

Tip flinched a little when he shoved the microphone into her face; “You recently survived a hostile Shushing by Disgraced Former Captain Smek! What was that like? Is your skull permanently fractured? Has your IQ dropped to a low human standard? For reference to our audience,” he swiftly turned to a bubble, “that is similar to a particularly high Koobish standard—HEY!!”

The bubble camera popped in his face when Tip jabbed it. He put a hand on his side and gave her a glare. A, ‘that equipment was more expensive than you’ kind of glare. He brought the microphone closer to his mouth; “Okay, next question,” he said like a threat. “About Captain Oh—”

“Gratuity!”

They both jumped at the frantic call. Kyle was rushing down the block, but he slowed to a stop when he saw the reporter. “Oh no—”

Hitch snapped his fingers and pointed at Kyle. The bubble-cameras rushed him like a pack of overly friendly dogs. A couple popped as he swatted desperately for space. Just like that, Tip was pretty much forgotten. The reporter grinned and strolled over to where Kyle was literally being hounded.

“I can’t believe my eyes! It’s President Kyle, the proud leader of New Boovworld under the order of Captain Oh! It’s so hard to book an interview with you. Now you can answer some simple questions that everyone has been dying to know!”

“I don’t have time!” Kyle argued. All the bubbles were blocking his view. But Tip could see his face inside the cameras. He looked severely frustrated, and suddenly she felt some appreciation for overbearing reporters. She snorted and tossed him a wave he wouldn’t see. Now she could get to the hose and hide away from her and Oh’s old enemy.

Behind her, Hitch was pointing his microphone vaguely in the direction of Kyle's angry shouting. “Sooo, President Kyle,” he drawled, fussing with his bow tie again, “here’s the first question! How do you react to your citizens’ calls for Oh to resign as Captain?”

Tip stopped in her tracks.

“What?!” Kyle yelped. He swatted away enough cameras to glare at Hitch, who gazed back with a raised brow. “That is nonsense! No reasonable Boov wants that!”

“Then there sure are a lot of unreasonable Boov in this city!” Hitch jabbed a thumb at Kyle as a couple bubble-cams honed in; “President Kyle’s words, not mine, folks!”

“But, that—that is not—nobody—h-how many—” Kyle spluttered. Hitch looked infinitely amused until his cameras turned their attention onto something else. He snapped his fingers.

“Hey,” he whined, “focus on—”

“OUR TOP STORY TONIGHT,” Tip said in her loudest announcer voice, sidling up besides Hitch. He faltered but quickly plastered on an unsettled grin. She talk-yelled, “NEW EVIDENCE PROVES THAT HUMANS HAVE THE POWER TO EXPLODE HEADS! WHERE’S THE EVIDENCE? WELL HERE IT IS!!”

She turned to Hitch and pressed her fingers to her head, squinting. “Can you just hold still for a second? This’ll get you a lot of views!”

Apparently the bubble-cams were a lot more loyal to live-televised entertainment than Hitch was. They made sure to follow him closely and capture every angle of his screaming face as he took off down the block. Tip laughed, but her elation died when Kyle cleared his throat behind her.

“Thank you, Gratuity.” He paused. “Can humanspersons really explode heads?” He paled a little when she whirled on him.

“Keep following me and you’ll find out,” Tip growled. The Boov shrank in his vest, but she really wanted him to turn tail and run. Huffing, she turned and stormed further down the block. An alleyway off to her right seemed like a good enough spot to mope for a while.

Tip tucked herself in beside some kind of dumpster. It was a big jiggly cube with a bunch of fizzy bubbles rising up inside it. She got the feeling anything you stuck inside it got digested. She kept a healthy distance. The wall felt cold as she sat against it, drawing her knees close to her chest. Something about sitting inside a depressing alleyway really hit her with all her self-pity. She groaned and shoved her face into her knees, curling into herself.

A couple minutes passed. She tried to feel annoyed when fingers parted the curls of her hair, and something cool and round pressed to her temple. “Go away,” she whined, hating how her voice cracked. “I just want to be left alone.”

“I can’t leave you alone,” Kyle sighed. “I haves to help you.”

“Why? Because Oh told you to?” Without looking up, she grabbed the ice pack and held it more firmly against her bruise. Kyle shuffled uncomfortably next to her.

“Well, yes…but also’s—”

“So now you’re treating Oh like he’s your Captain? This whole mess could've been avoided if you’d just taken him seriously from the start!”

“But…I do take him seriously,” Kyle replied, and she could hear the frown in his voice. “Oh is a great Captain. Everybody with half a cerebrum knows this.”

Tip scoffed and laid her head back against the wall. Her hood was still blocking most of her peripheral view, but she could sense him staring at her. “Then why did you start approving changes without him? Why did you let the Boov mess with orbits and gravity and all that stupid physics stuff? If you hadn’t done that, then—”

Her throat started to close up, and she coughed to hide it. Tip sniffed, still refusing to look at Kyle. Her teeth grit as she waited for whatever lame excuse he was cooking up.

Finally, he replied, “You are right…it is my fault. But, when I made Oh Captain—”

“I don't want to hear it!” she snapped. “I know what kind of person you are, even if Oh doesn't! I know why you made him Captain! It’s because he’s sweet and he’s trusting, and you knew you could take advantage of that. All along, you planned to be the one calling the shots. You’ve already made that super clear…”

She shuffled away from Kyle, deciding the acid-dumpster was better for close distances. Then he put a hand on her shoulder and she paused. The touch was gentle, but just firm enough to convey his insistence. She glanced at his hand, eyeing the blue skin.

“No, that's not…that’s not it at all,” he whispered. “But,” he said, louder, “I do not blame you for believing such a thing. I has…I has made many terrible mistakes.” Kyle sighed, and his hand slipped off her shoulder. “Sometimes, I wonder if making Oh Captain was a mistake.”

Now Tip finally turned to him, if only to wave a fist in his face. “You really wanna talk down about my best friend?” she growled. Then Kyle looked at her, and her anger dropped as quick as her fist. There was so much guilt in his expression. She’d only seen that kind of look on one other Boov’s face.

“Oh did not want to be Captain, but I insisted. I did not give him a choice.” Kyle took off his visor. He gazed forlornly at his yellow-tinted reflection. “A Captain has a heavy burden. I thought…I could spare him from that. That I could let him be a kid with Gratuity. That is why I wanted to makes the tough decisions.” He frowned, his gaze sharpening into a glare. “I was wrong. I know that now. I should has asked for my Captain’s approval before changing the orbit…I am sorry.”

Kyle looked at her, and his face was so full of genuine regret that she had to look away. His skin sank to an even darker shade of blue. “I…I understand if you cannot even look at me—”

“Just shut up!” Tip’s voice cracked and she rubbed a sleeve below her eyes. “I forgive you, okay? Just stop talking…”

He put a hand on top of hers, and she thought he was being nice. Then he guided the ice pack back to her head. Which was still kind of nice, but mostly annoying.

“There is more that I should say,” Kyle said, “to explain my poor decisions.” When she didn’t immediately complain, he cautiously continued. “I…knew a Boov. He was a new Captain and very excitement to make good changes. He thought he could be so much better than the previous Captain.”

“He can be,” Tip argued. “He is!”

“Maybe he was, for a while,” Kyle sighed. It was Tip’s own building frustration that worked against her, clamming her up. “Not everyone liked him at first, though. He was chatty to the point it was being excessive. And overly tactile in his attempts to convey friendliness,” he groaned. She rolled her eyes.

“But, thinking back…” Kyle’s brows furrowed. “This was not a thought that I would has ever made, back then. But he was very sweet.” A smile tugged his lips, but any fondness shuttered quickly from his face. “And how he has changed since then.”

Tip’s voice emerged like lava from a volcano: “How can you say that?!” She shoved his shoulder so hard he almost toppled. “Oh is the sweetest Boov on the planet—on the moon! In the whole world!”

“I am not speaking of Oh!” Kyle winced, raising his hands to block another shove.

“Then who—”

“Smek! Former Captain Smek.”

Her brain hit the brakes and still crashed against the wall Kyle had thrown in front of her. Her thoughts were broken bits and pieces scattered all around the pavement. Physically, she was just staring at nothing and gaping like a fish. It took a lot of effort to scrape together enough carnage to ask, very intelligently, “Ummm, what?!”

“It is why I have worriment for Oh,” Kyle explained. “I do not want him to change the same way that Smek did. Being Captain…whether it is full of criticism or applause. It does bad things.” He frowned, looking dissatisfied.

Then Kyle groaned, putting on his visor like he was gearing up for battle. “There is something I must tell you, about how I met Oh. It has much to do with Smek. But I regret to tell you.” He shut his eyes like he could sense an oncoming swing.

“Why?” Tip huffed. “Are you worried I’ll get so mad about Smek that I’ll punch you?”

“Not Smek,” Kyle said, dragging the words from his throat like a heavy confession. “Like I said before. I has made many mistakes.”

Chapter Text

Trillions of light years away from the Milky Way Galaxy, a moon-sized ship coasted steadily through space. Many years would pass before it finally reached the barred spiral galaxy containing Earth. And still, those on the ship were muttering a similar proverb spoken by those on the faraway planet. It turns out some truths extend beyond the reaches of a single solar system. Some apply to the world in general. And currently, one truth was very certain to the Boov: Bad things come in threes.

Not so long ago, the Captain of the Boov had perished. His destruction had come after a great victory on his part, which made his absence all the more bitter in the mouths of the Boov. They thought he had finally ended the reign of terror brought about by a multigenerational fued between their species and the Gorg. He’d erased an entire Gorg civilization, ambushing them after they’d settled on a planet. But then the pyramidal Gorg mothership appeared, and it was impervious to their attacks.

When the Gorg’s ship loomed closer than ever before, the Captain had taken off in his private escape vehicle. The Gorg pilot had abandoned the Boov mothership to chase their Captain. Tragically, he couldn’t outrun the intense onslaught of green lasers. But the distraction offered the rest of the Boov time to escape. He’d died an honorable Boov—not because he’d purposely gotten the Gorg off their trail. No, everyone knew he’d been trying to save his own purple skin. But he’d died a self-serving coward. For that he was the epitome of everything a Boov should try and achieve.

The Captain’s death was quickly followed by the failed takeover of an aqueous planet. It was a hasty move on the part of the new Captain, Smek. Barely a month had passed before Boov were ordered to make a water-covered world their new home. And it seemed fine, at first. Until the planet’s alarmingly close orbit with another celestial body created destructive waves the height of mountains. Weeks of underwater colonization were destroyed in hours. The Boov had to flee, and it wasn't even the fault of the Gorg this time. Instead, it was due to their inexperienced Captain's embarrassing oversight of gravitational mechanics.

Not surprisingly, Smek had been fairly reclusive the past several weeks. Boov didn’t know if he was hiding in shame, or if he was being kept from public view by his royal handlers. It was partially a topic of controversy. Mostly, it was something for people to gossip about while they were bored out of their minds drifting listlessly through space. But the most recent of unfortunate events offered some excitement. This was the third and final bad thing to satisfy the proverb. And it was a particularly horrifying experience for the Boov—because it involved a whole lot of spontaneous dancing.

The Greys were a race of particularly immature aliens, and they weren’t above kicking someone while they were down. And the Boov were about a hundred miles below the ground of down. A virus-embedded link, sent out to wiggle through the Boovs’ impressive firewall, managed to reach a gullible target. As soon as it was clicked, the Greys were able to hack into the Boovs’ entire network and do as much damage as they pleased. But there was only one thing they wanted to do. And for twelve horrible hours, Boov were subjected to a series of repetitive frequencies specially designed to hijack their pattern-obsessed minds. To put it simply, they heard music and were compulsively forced to dance.

Nobody would know this, but their attackers were a couple of teenaged Grey pranksters that laughed about it and got smoothies at a nearby Placestore after. But to the Boov, that spontaneous dance-party was a malicious act of endless hostility. Someone had to be punished for letting it happen. In the end, all the blame would be placed on the person that fell for the Greys’ trap and clicked their message. By tracing the virus’ digital memory, they were able to track down exactly who it was that made this clumsy error. And the culprit’s previous records would make his sentence all the more severe.

There was a rule that had been passed down through countless generations of Captains: Any Boov that made nine mistakes was out. As in, out of society, out of the ship, out alone on the nearest uninhabitable planet. If the Captain didn’t want to make quick work and just erase them, that is. And clicking the virus was the ninth mistake to be made by this particular Boov. An officer would be tasked with finding him and bringing him straight to the Captain.

This is where another familiar saying comes in handy: one man's loss is another man's gain.

It wasn’t really Kyle’s issue what happened to the criminal Boov. All he cared about was bringing him to justice, and finally getting an audience with the elusive Captain Smek. Talking to the leader of the Boov—the guy at the very top of the heap!—was the opportunity Kyle needed to finally achieve his dream. He’d been working as a low-level cop for longer than he’d ever want to admit. Getting a promotion was nearly impossible while he was stuck under the thumb of his superiors, but now—

“This is my chance!” Kyle pleaded, clasping his hands like he was beseeching the stars themselves.

Shirl looked unimpressed. “I has been given the orders to detain the Niner,” she replied. “It is the job for a mid-level officer, not a common grunt. Don’t you has something else to be doing? I heard of an explosion involving a bunch of podlings in their warming oven.”

Now Kyle was alarmed. “Are the podlings intact?”

“Oh yes, it is not that type of explosion,” Shirl said with a wry smile. Kyle gagged.

She turned to leave, but he whined and made to grab her vest. He didn’t actually touch her, but the halted gesture itself was enough to earn her glaring scrutiny. Boov weren’t supposed to touch other Boov without necessity, and especially not their superiors.

“S-sorry,” Kyle apologized, “but can't you be relating to me? Not so long ago, you were also’s a low-level officer! We were—” he faltered, “acquaintances. Can’t you give me a chance to be promoted just like’s you?”

“You really think this one job is going to get you a higher ranking?” Shirl asked in that dry way of hers.

“Maybe…if I can just speak to Captain Smek. I can to impress him by bringing in the malicious Boov. Maybe—the Niner will try and fight me, and I can use impressive skills to take him down.” His eyes darted as he thought of it.

Shirl hummed. “It could work.”

Kyle’s eyes snapped to hers. “Really?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, I has heard the new Captain is quite a fool.”

Such a casual blow against a Captain’s honor was shocking. Kyle expressed as much when he gasped and turned pale. “Y-you should not—”

“Relax,” she chuffed, “anyone would agree with me. There's a reason the new Captain is in hiding. I has heard rumors of what an insufferable Boov it is that has replaced the prior Captain.”

Shirl paused, frowning. Then she offered him a smile. It wasn’t totally insincere, but no amount of friendliness could ever seem to reach her eyes. “I think I will hand off my task to you,” she said.

“Wait! Really?!” Kyle cried. He knew he should be ashamed of yelling with so much elation. But he couldn’t help it, he was getting his chance!

“Of course,” Shirl replied with a pleased smirk. “That way you has to deal with the Captain, not me.” Before he could reply, she swiped a couple fingers across her circular Boovish tablet. Coded digits sprang into the air as a hologram. She palmed them, and the digital coding seemed to get sucked into the round pocket on Kyle’s vest.

A weird pulse thrummed from inside his pocket. He pulled out his tablet and stared at the screen. A red dot winked on the screen, sending out a subtle vibration with each blink.

“There's the coordinates of the Niner,” Shirl explained boredly. “Track him down, apprehend him, and bring him to the Captain for punishment.”

Kyle gripped the tablet in his hands like it was his ticket to everything he’d ever wanted. “Thank you,” he said, looking at Shirl with big eyes.

“It's not a favor,” she replied. “It's an order. Remember you're still a grunt.”

He remembered. He’d remember until his first chance to forget. Going from a low-level to mid-level cop sounded like a small step up, but it would save him from constantly getting trampled by the whims of others. Kyle wouldn’t be sent to complete every tedious task that his superiors didn’t want to deal with. He could direct traffic and order people around himself. Then he’d be respected as a competent Boov, standing a tier up above most others.

Before Kyle could improve his own life, he needed to make someone else's much worse. It was a small price to pay. For a Boov, it wasn’t really a price at all. The only thing that could make this difficult was the Niner’s own desperate self-preservation. He warily eyed the blinking dot as he followed its coordinates. 

“That Boov should be around here…” Kyle glanced around. He’d been led to one of the ship’s community cafeterias, and at this time it was pretty densely crowded. Especially since so many Boov had worked up an appetite from dancing for twelve hours straight the previous day. How was he going to pinpoint which Boov was his target?

“Ohhhhh,” an entire table of Boov groaned in exasperation. Kyle blinked in confusion as he watched them disperse. What was that about?

He brushed off his confusion to focus on the blinking red dot. With so many Boov packed so close, how was he supposed to tell who it was? Kyle chewed his lip. Lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the lone Boov that remained after the rest had scattered.

Movement in his peripheral finally caught his attention. He glanced up to see a Boov waving at him. This Boov had the table all to himself—and he was right in the location of the red dot. Kyle’s head snapped up and his skin briefly rippled with orange bands.

“You!” he called, aiming a finger at the lone Boov. “I needs to talk to you! Don’t trying to run—ACK!”

As nervous as Kyle had been feeling before, he really hadn’t been expecting to get rushed. He cowered a little when his target put the bullseye on him, scrambling over like he'd been expecting this meeting all day. Suddenly Kyle was wrapped in some sort of inefficient tackle. He completely blanked on what to do.

“Hello new friend!” the stranger cried, and Kyle finally caught up to himself.

“Get off!” he snapped, shoving the Boov off of him. “Just what do you think you're doing? I could's has erased you for attacking me!”

“But…” the Boov shrank a little, flushing yellow around the face. He was very young, only half as big as Kyle. He had to look up to meet the cop’s eyes. “That was just being a hug!”

That podling-explosion incident sounded a lot less gross than this. “A hug?” Kyle cringed. “Boov do not hug! And they don’t make nine mistakes, either,” he glowered, eyeing this Boov warily.

Someone who made so many mistakes in their life had to be seriously unhinged. There was definitely a suspicious spark in his eyes. For Boov, that was any kind of spark at all. The grin that spread across the Niner’s face was even more unsettling in its open sincerity.

“Ah, you are meaning the spontaneous party of involuntary body movements,” the Niner said.

“Yes! You clicked a bad link sent from evil enemies of the Boov. They hijacked the ship and attacked everyone with horrible frequencies!”

“Yes, but-for the link said Click for a Wonderful Surprise. I could’s not resist,” he said with a distant look.

“Well now you cannot be resisting either,” Kyle snapped. “You are arresting!” He grabbed the Niner’s arm, but then the Boov grabbed his arm back like they were going for an affectionate stroll. Kyle jumped away and rubbed his skin with a shudder. “Just—come with me,” he muttered.

The Niner squealed in excitement as he followed Kyle out of the cafeteria. “This is such greatness!” he cried. “What is your name?”

“Kyle,” he replied before he could think better of it.

“Kyle,” the young Boov repeated. He considered the name with the same look you'd give a shining jewel. “Kyle,” he repeated, tugging at the officer’s vest and slowing them to a halt.

“What is it?” Kyle groaned. He was almost starting to regret doing this task in place of Shirl.

“Are you…” Suddenly the Niner looked kind of shy. He prodded his fingers together and gazed up at him with big eyes. “Will you be my friend?”

“Uhhh…” Kyle flexed his fingers and glanced around uncomfortably. This was a very, very strange Boov. He sighed. “If I says yes, will you follow me without more questioning?”

“Yes!” the Niner cried, hopping on his pods.

“Then…sure—”

“Friend-Kyle!”

Another failed tackle—er, a hug. Kyle stiffened up. “Ohhh,” he groaned.

“Yes, that is my name,” Oh grinned. He backed away right before Kyle could try and pry his arms off. “We are friends for life!”

“Let's just getting this over with,” Kyle muttered.

It would have been faster to use a bubble car for travel, but Kyle did not enjoy the idea of being in a capsule with this guy. Oh was already way too touchy without having an excuse to be crammed next to him. But it was a double-edged sword, because for the next hour Kyle was stuck listening to him yammer nonstop. When they were finally nearing the Captain’s quarters, Kyle was about ready to turn the bubble gun on himself. But this would all be worth it, as soon as he had an audience with the new Captain—

“Halting!”

Kyle froze. Two Boov had come out of nowhere to block the hallway leading to the Captain’s quarters. They had their bubble guns drawn and ready. Kyle flushed yellow and Oh just offered a quiet wave.

“What is your purpose here?” one of the Boov asked with a squinty glare.

“Ahm—” Kyle balked, taken aback by these Boovs’ hostility.

“Friend-Kyle and me are—” Oh kept talking even when the low-level officer’s arm muffled his voice.

“I am here to bring the criminal Boov to Captain Smek,” Kyle said, faking confidence with an upright posture. “He is responsible for the recent hijacking attack. And this his ninth mistake.”

The guard-Boov considered the young Niner in front of them. “How can he already have nine?” the female guard muttered. “He looks fresh out of the warming oven.” The other one, a male who'd been deathly silent so far, merely grunted a response.

Oh regarded the quiet one. “You looks like you could use a hug,” he decided. Kyle grabbed him right as he tried to lunge forward. Both guards yelped and scrambled backward.

“Okay, that guy has got to go,” the female guard said. “Let's take him to Captain Smek!”

She gestured warily for Oh to follow them. As soon as Kyle started forward she raised a firm hand. “You do not follow,” she growled. “You are not needed for anything else.”

“But—” Kyle grabbed onto Oh’s vest possessively, “but I brought him all the way here, and—and I need’s to talk to Captain Smek!”

“Commoners cannot to see the Captain,” the guard snapped.

“What?!” Kyle gawked. “Since when is that being a thing?!”

The male guard loomed forward, and Kyle immediately became aware of their Bad Cop, Worse Cop routine. “Since we said it is a thing,” he snarled and Kyle was ready to take his word for it.

Then Oh got a look on his face, a type of grin Kyle would find it hard to describe. Not malicious, but definitely not entirely friendly either. “You are being such a grouchy!” he teased to the guard and spread his arms. “You really needs a hug!”

The guards screamed and scattered when he swooped them like the world’s cuddliest hawk. Survival instinct kicked in and they abandoned their post, desperate to escape the grotesque threats of physical affection. Before Oh could properly wave goodbye, Kyle snagged the back of his vest and pulled him along. The Captain’s door was password-protected…with the word password. The door clamped shut behind them like a maw.

“Wow,” Oh chirped as he glanced around. “Spacey.”

Coincidentally, Kyle was thinking something along those lines. Except he was thinking about space in the context of them being ejected from the ship for their crimes.

“This is badness,” he gasped, realizing what he’d just done. He’d broken into the Captain’s quarters. Boov had gotten exiled, ejected, erased for much less than this. “No,” he gritted, “I did my job, now’s I must go!”

Kyle pawed at the door, but he couldn’t figure out how to get it back open. “C’mon,” he whined. Oh was behind him, casting a shadow onto the round door and making it hard to see. “Can you be moving, please, Niner?”

“Hello, my name is Oh!” Oh greeted.

“Yes, I already am knowing that, but—”

He froze as the shadow on the door shifted like ink growing on paper. Twirly nostricles uncurled and raised into foreboding horns, the likes of which were rarely seen on a Boov’s silhouette.

“Pleasure to meet you, Oh! But I gotta admit, I think you and your friend here just made a big mistake.”

Chapter Text

“Ahh! Captain!” Kyle whirled and waved his hands. “I am so sorry!” he cried, squeezing his eyes. “I did not mean to—please be letting me explain—”

The Captain caught his flailing wrists and he shrank against the door. He expected red skin, furious eyes, and maybe a few good whaps from the royal scepter before he was banished from the ship. That’s what he would’ve gotten from the prior Captain for breaking past the guards. So when he finally opened his eyes, the sight of a big toothy smile stunned him more than an actual blow.

“Relax, Mister Yellow!” Captain Smek grinned. He dropped Kyle’s hands and patted his shoulder. “Plenty of Boov would has made the same mistake. The hallways around here get confusing, and that’s coming from a Boov with perfect memory! Honestly,” he chuffed, “I’m just surprised you made it past Thug One and Thug Two out there.”

Kyle’s memory of the prior Captain juxtaposed with the Boov standing in front of him. It made this meeting all the more baffling. The other Captain’s eyes would be full of hot fury, but the closest thing to heat in this Boov’s gaze was friendly warmth. He looked nearly as young and bright-eyed as the Niner. He was certainly younger than Kyle, with only the stubby beginnings of a mustache poking above his mouth.

Kyle was at a loss. “Um, well, uh—” he fumbled.

“You and your pal are here for the conference, right? The one about habitable planets.”

The officer’s choked “What?” was somehow good enough confirmation for Captain Smek. He extended a hand and the scepter flew from out of nowhere, landing in his grip with enough force to quake his body. Kyle flinched and prepared for a belated Shushing.

Instead, Captain Smek just gestured with the scepter’s spherical adornment: “Down the hall, take a left, keep going until your second right, and when you see the guard that looks like his favorite Koobish just died, you’re at the conference room!” He winked and made a chk sound in his cheek.

“But—”

“You and Oh here better hurry before…Wait,” Captain Smek glanced around, “where did the little fella go?”

Kyle’s eyes darted over the Captain’s shoulder. “Ahh! Niner, no touching that!”

Oh had clambered atop the circular hover-table stationed in the center of the room. The young Boov’s eyes were huge as he stared up toward the ceiling. Kyle scrambled to get him under control.

“Niner!” Kyle yelled. “What are you—” He followed Oh’s wide-eyed gaze and his pods slowed to a halt. It was enough to make him forget where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing. “Woah…”

A holographic copy of the Boov mothership cruised in place above the gold-rimmed table. Kyle had never seen a compressed model of the ship before. He’d only ever seen it as a looming object in the sky, one that was far more intimidating than it was welcoming. But now here it was, a blue marble banded with flecks of light and propelled by a conical tail of compressed flame. It was beautiful. And that was not a word Boov used unless it was objectively true.

His fascination only grew when he looked beyond the hologram to the clumps of bubbles moving in slow orbit around the room. There were hundreds of the rainbow-tinted capsules, and each one carried a souvenir from a past invasion. They ranged from perfectly preserved plant specimens to strange technologies from intelligent species. These were some of the only surviving relics of the planets from which they'd been taken. After all, nearly every Boov invasion ended in mass destruction by the Gorg.

Kyle’s wonder abruptly soured into discomfort. Less from thoughts of planetary destruction, and more from the arm that was suddenly wrapped around his shoulders.

“Pretty cool, huh?” the Captain chirped. He gestured around the room with his scepter. “I has got lots of great stuff! Don’t you think so?”

“It is very impressive,” Kyle replied stiffly. He regarded one bubbled souvenir in particular. It was a loose jacket of scales vaguely in the shape of a reptilian body. He really wished he could shed out of his skin like that. Somehow he’d met the two most tactile Boov in one day.

Smek hummed in pleasure at the praise, then released the officer from his hold. He sauntered over to the table and watched Oh with a humored smile. The younger Boov was straining on his pods to grab at the mothership.

“You can’t touch the hologram, it’s plain air!” Smek laughed. He held his hands over the table and flexed his fingers. “But I can to show you something with lots of great textures.”

The table turned a murky blue when Smek touched it. It turned out the hover-table was just a huge version of a Boov tablet. Silvery bubbles rose up from the illusioned depth of the screen and settled below the flat surface. They mimicked the bubbles floating around the room; each one encapsulated a strange alien object. Kyle glanced over the screen and realized it was the Captain’s inventory.

Smek hummed and tapped his chin, glancing around for one object in particular. “Aha!” he tapped one of the bubbles on the screen and it burst with a little pop! effect. A bubble sailed forth from the cluster of others and flew into Smek’s hands. It popped and a bland-looking rock dropped into his hands. He offered it to Oh, who hopped off the table and accepted it with glittering eyes.

“It’s a rock,” Oh whispered like it was a hunk of gold. He held it close to his face, pouring over every detail. Kyle wasn’t so impressed—until the rock suddenly compressed into a little black sphere with undulating ripples. “Wow!” Oh gasped.

“What is that?” Kyle asked.

“It’s a rock,” the Captain explained with a conceding lilt. “But it is a special rock! Just like Boov skin, it changes with feeling! See those?” he pointed at the ripples on the little sphere. “They say you are thinking very much!”

Kyle couldn’t help but doubt that. Out of the three Boov in the room, he seemed to be the only one taking anything seriously. Oh was treating Captain Smek like any other Boov he’d run into at the cafeteria, and the young Captain wasn’t properly infuriated by this lack of respect.

This was turning into a waste of Kyle’s valuable time. When was he gonna get the chance to explain what he actually came here for? Did he really have to wait until his Captain and the Niner were done playing a game of Hot Potato with the rock? All this foolishness was making him feel so—

“Catch!” Captain Smek yelled and chucked the rock at Kyle.

It bounced off his vest and Kyle snagged it in midair with a strangled little yelp. The sphere abruptly turned into a jagged mess in his hands. Oddly, it really did look the same way he felt. He stared at the strange rock and thumbed the rough little points. The two other Boov crowded to look at it.

Captain Smek hummed. “That means you are full of worriment! Because you are late for the royal conference, I’ll bet. Don’t stress yourself,” he grabbed the rock and it turned into a shifting, wiggling little thing; “you can just tell the other Boov that you were talking to the Great Captain Smek.”

“But we are not here for—”

“If it is being a royal conference,” Oh tilted his head, “why for is the Great Captain Smek not in attendance?”

“Yow!!” the Captain startled and flung his arms. He grimaced and waved the sting out of his hands.

All three sets of eyes landed on the spiky sea-urchin of a rock that Smek had tossed onto the table. He flushed a little dark around the face when Kyle and Oh both looked at him.

“Eheh,” he chuckled nervously, “I am not sure what that is meaning! But anyway,” he grabbed his scepter and wrung it in his hands, “I have very good reasons for why I am not at the conference right now.”

“What are the reasons?” Oh asked innocently.

“Uhh, well because, you see—I am, I am very busy, ummm,” he turned a sheepish kind of yellow, “Busy not being invited.”

“What?!” Kyle yelled.

“Yes, What?!” Oh mimicked. “You are Captain! You are invited to all conferences and superfun parties.”

“You would think so,” Smek huffed, “but after a tiny little oversight I may or may not has made, my advisors are thinking it is better I sit some things out.”

Kyle paused as he realized. “Oh…”

“Yes?” Oh quipped.

“No, I mean—Captain Smek, you are talking about the last invasion with the waves of destruction?”

The Captain sighed miserably. He traced a circle on the table around the spiky rock. A bubble encapsulated the souvenir, then flew off to the swarm of other inventory. Smek watched the orbiting bubbles and shuffled uncomfortably.

“Yes, that planet…was maybe…an accident,” Smek cringed. “I thought it was a good idea since-for the Gorg are hating of water. I did not think of the bad orbit with other planet.” His skin flushed from blue to a petulant sort of red. “Now my advisors want me to stay in here all the time. They say, ‘we will take care of all matters, just play Stand in a Corner and Be Silent’.”

“I love that game!” Oh cried.

“My record is thirty-seven hours of standing and silence,” Smek said with a braggy smirk, “but that is beside of the point…” He frowned, then gave the table a couple quick taps. It seemed like an idle little motion, but the expansive far wall of the Captain’s quarters suddenly cleared of its deep blue tint.

Beyond the Captain’s window was the inky nebulousness of space in which the mothership, and all else, was suspended. Stars and scattered galaxies were like spilled glitter across a black canvas. Kyle and Oh gawked at the view as they followed their Captain to the window. Most of their time was spent in the inner bowels of the ship. Window views such as this were for Boov more important than them.

Smek didn’t seem all too impressed. Space was simply a pleasant thing to rest his eyes on while he dealt with unpleasant thoughts. His skin heated back to red as he scowled. “Just because I has made one tiny little itty bitty maybe-mistake,” he pinched his thumb and forefinger and squinted, “they are acting like I have no good ideas! But I do,” he insisted. “I can do lots of good things for the Boov!”

“Like finding us a home?” Oh asked. His gaze shifted from the stars to his Captain beside him, but none of the sparkling wonder faded from his eyes.

“Yes, but more than that,” Smek replied. The irritated hunch of his shoulders eased a fraction. “If they just gave me the chance, I could end our feuding with the Gorg.”

Kyle’s skin sank to yellow at the same time that Oh’s turned a bright, excited orange. “That is a great idea!” the younger Boov cried.

“I-I don’t know if that is even possible with the Gorg,” Kyle said, shuttering all of his focus on his Captain. “The prior Captain launched the greatest erasure in histories! And the Gorg are still living to chase and terrorize and take from the Boov.”

“Maybe we do not have to erase them,” Smek replied.

“What else is there to do with Gorg?”

“Maybe, we could to—” he paused, and the far-off look in his eyes sharpened to something closer. It seemed he’d just remembered he was speaking to Boov and not the neutrality of space. He fiddled with the scepter. “Well, I have some ideas. But no matter how many genius ideas I can to show, my advisors only see my mistake.”

The Captain’s expression was angry, but his skin was blue. Such emotional ambiguity was distasteful for a Boov, and Kyle regarded him nervously. He eased a couple steps away at the same time Oh stepped closer.

“I can be relating with you,” Oh said. He placed a hand on Smek’s shoulder. Kyle cringed; touching the Captain would surely be this Boov’s tenth mistake. But Smek just looked at Oh with big, hopeful eyes.

“You know the torture of having so many genius ideas and so many dumb advisors?” he asked.

“No,” Oh replied and Smek slumped, “but I too has made mistakes.”

An ounce of comfort tipped the young Captain backward into all of his self pity. His skin crashed a dark blue and his upper lip trembled. “Like what?” he nearly sobbed.

And after so much wasted time with the two weirdest Boov on the entire moon-sized ship, Kyle finally had his chance to pounce. Before Oh could reply, Kyle aimed his finger at the Niner and announced, “This Boov got the entire mothership hijacked by frequencies of horribleness yesterday!!”

Smek frowned, still blue, and side-eyed Oh. “That was you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Oh smiled, “there was a bad link that said Click For a Wonderful Suprise. I was unintentional in making a dance party of craziness. It was traumatics!”

The Captain stiffened up and a strange hardness cemented his features. A bubbly cocktail of anxiety and excitement fizzed in Kyle's chest. Finally the Niner would be punished, and for completing this important task he'd be promoted to mid-level officer—

“Pfff.” Smek covered his mouth, but it did little to hide the goofy smile spreading across his face. His shoulders trembled as he fought to keep his composure. But fissures kept crawling through the cement, and pretty soon he completely dissolved into a fit of obnoxious laughter. “Click—HAHA!—Click For a Wonderful Surprise?! That's genius! Who could’s resist?!” He cackled.

“I could’s not,” Oh giggled. Kyle groaned.

“Did—did—did,” Smek gasped for breath, fogging the window he leaned on for support, “did you get that other scam a few weeks ago? From, from,” he wheezed, “the prince of Planet Glokeria that needed money to save his family from political unrestliness?”

“I did not get that one!” Oh laughed. “But you did’s not—”

“I SENT HIM FIFTY THOUSAND.”

The two Boov weren’t as much laughing as they were sobbing. Kyle was too exhausted to be properly disappointed. He shoved his face against the window and sighed. A minute passed before Smek finally got a handle on himself.

“Ooo-kay,” Smek wheezed, flapping a hand, “okay! That was funniness! I’m glad I’m not the only Boov around here to make a couple little errors.”

“I has made more than a couple, even,” Oh quipped.

“Really?” Smek chuckled. “How many?”

“Nine,” Oh replied simply.

Kyle pulled his face off the window. He watched the Captain hum and brush at his vest.

“Ohhh,” Smek said, “so that is why your pal has been calling you—” his face fell, “Niner.” He cast a wide-eyed look at Kyle. “There is a Niner going to the conference?” he gawked.

“We’re not here for the conference!” Kyle whined. It felt like a breath he’d been holding in since he’d gotten here. “We’re here because the hijacking was being this Boov’s ninth mistake.”

“I can’t believe it!” Smek turned to Oh. “Now how has you made so many? You look fresh out of the warming oven! Uuugh,” he pulled his hands down his face, “what unpleasantness! Don't you know what happens to Boov that makes so many mistakes?”

For the first time since Kyle met him, Oh’s smile faltered. The Niner turned a light blue and prodded his fingers together timidly. Kyle rolled his eyes and waited for his desperate pleas to be spared.

“I am sorry for making so much badness,” Oh said quietly. “I tries very hard to be a good Boov. I am not wanting to be inconvenient.”

The genuine regret in Oh’s voice caught Kyle off guard. He didn’t sound like he was asking to be spared. It didn’t even sound like he was trying to be forgiven. He just sounded—sorry. For a split second, Kyle faltered. But unlike the Niner, he didn’t allow himself to make foolish errors.

“It does not matter how you feel,” Kyle glowered. “You still has made too many mistakes.”

Oh looked guilty, but not nearly scared enough. Did he even know that he was about to get exiled, or erased? Then Kyle realized that no, he probably didn’t. He really was a terribly young Boov. He probably didn’t know the implications of being a Niner.

With an uncomfortable sort of grimace, Kyle glanced at their Captain. Smek certainly knew the implications. All the distress missing from Oh’s face was written all over his. He was wringing the scepter in his hands and shuffling anxiously where he stood. Finally, he did a shuddery little dance—the sort you'd do when you see a creepy little spider.

The Captain groaned. He rubbed the scepter along his brow. “Okay, okay. I know what has to be done about this.” He reached a hand out to Kyle; “Bubble gun, please and thanking you.” The officer balked, but he didn’t waste too much time following a competent order.

Oh was still painfully oblivious to the consequences of being a Niner. Kyle thought before that this Boov was too naive to see destruction when it was staring him down in the face. And apparently that was true, because he just squinted curiously at the bubble gun Captain Smek stuck between his eyes.

“Sorry for any bad feelings,” Smek winced. “But besides awful exile, there is only one thing to be done to erase nine foolish mistakes.”

Chapter Text

There is no up or down in space. Something so infinite can't be labeled or leashed by any bounds of logic. Against a universe of terrifying ambiguity, magnetic fields are handy barriers. They wrap a planet in a cocoon of comfortable rules, pointing which way is North and which way is South. The Boov longed for such a home that could make their world more quantifiable. But for now they were stuck in the Boov Mothership. No matter how it shifted or spun, it was never upside down.

And even still, it felt like the entire world had flipped on its head. Captain Smek was holding a bubble gun to the Niner’s face. The floor was suddenly the ceiling and Kyle got whiplash from the shift. The Captain, the same Boov that had been all too eager to make friends with his new guests, was suddenly poised to erase one of them from existence forever. In all honesty, Kyle had been expecting the Niner to be exiled to a remote planet. He’d been hoping for that, he realized all too balatantly. 

Because now that young, naive Boov was actually about to be erased. Oh was still all smiles and squinting, curious eyes. He didn’t know the peril he was in, the danger he was literally staring down. Maybe it was the gross absence of fear from the Niner that made Kyle absorb it all like electricity. It lanced through his body at the sight of Smek’s thumb on the trigger. He cowered and shut his eyes in lieu of the Boov in front of the gun. 

So he missed it when Captain Smek, instead of pulling the trigger, suddenly raised the banded gun above Oh’s head. The Niner barely had time to glance up before it was brought down above his eyes, delivering a firm bonk! on his forehead.

“Ow-pain!” Oh yelped.

The officer flinched in sympathy before he caught up with what he'd heard. He gaped in disbelief at the sight of the Niner in front of him—as in, the sight itself. That Boov was supposed to be erased from existence. But he was still there, wincing and rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. Little dark bands throbbed where he'd been hit.

“There,” Captain Smek nodded. He tossed the bubble gun over his shoulder like he was discarding trash. 

Kyle shrieked and scrambled to catch it, flashing yellow as it bounced precariously between his hands. 

“Whyfor was that?” Oh whined.

“Is it not obvious?” Smek chided, poking Oh’s vest with the scepter. “With the bubble gun I has erased your nine hilarious mistakes. You know,” he rolled his eyes, “in a figureness of speaking.”

“Wait—whatnow?” Kyle crept forward, sliding the bubble gun back on his arm.

The last of the rippling pain-bands faded from Oh’s skin. He gazed at his Captain in wide-eyed bewilderment. “You are meaning that…I have your forgiving?”

“Forgiving is a gross word of sentiment, I would say more like you has my conditional pardoning,” Smek decided. “That means no—more—mistakes,” a light tap on Oh’s head with the scepter emphasized each word. “Capiche?” 

Oh giggled. “The most capicheliness! Thanking you Captain Smek! You are best of all!” He lunged for a hug but Kyle intercepted just in time. 

“Niner!!” Kyle scolded, dragging him back by the vest. “I mean—Oh, enough with the hugging! Look at the Captain, you has frightened him!”

It looked to be true, because Smek’s eyes had the flat shine of shock and the scepter was hanging limp in his grasp. But he recovered quickly and shook his head. 

“No, no, I am fine!” he laughed and waved his hand. “It is only that I have never been called the best before! What a common sense Boov,” he smirked. “Let him go.”

With a reluctant grimace, Kyle dropped Oh’s vest. Oh immediately scuttled for the Captain, but instead of wrapping him in a hug, he clung onto the scepter like it was all of Smek’s attention. “I am so gladness I got to meet you Captain Smek! You are even greater than I was thinking,” he said earnestly.

All the compliments were piling high on Smek’s shoulders, and he chortled bashfully even as he tried to tug the scepter from the younger Boov's insistent grip. “Yes yes, I already know I’m amazing! If only my advisors were knowing that also. They seem to think I am just some screwup…” his grin briefly faltered, and Oh finally dropped the scepter. Then Smek swung it over his shoulder and shrugged. “But what do they know, huh? They’re probably just jealous of my devilish looks!” 

He turned to admire his reflection in the glass, but Oh grabbed his arm. “You know what I am thinking?” Oh smiled.

“Ehh, no? What are ya thinking?” Smek scrunched his brows.

Impossibly, Oh’s smile got bigger. “Captain Smek is great, and anyone who does not think that is a poomp!”

Kyle misinterpreted the Captain’s bug-eyed astonishment. He lunged from where he’d been staying on the outskirts of the conversation. “Oh!” he scolded. “Do not use such language in front of the Captain!”

But Smek brushed off his surprise. “C’mon officer, don’t be such a stick in the diluted dirt!” he chuffed. He gave Oh’s head a couple pats and the younger Boov absolutely preened at the gesture. “I think this little fella has got a nicely working cerebrum! But listen here, now,” he laid the scepter across Oh’s back and gave him a pointed look; “No more awful parties of spontaneous movements, alright?”

“My parties will only have movements of conscious willingness,” Oh promised, grinning a little sheepishly and prodding his fingers.

“Good Boov!” Smek gave his head a final tap with the scepter and then pulled away. He flicked his hand in a shooing motion. “Off now! Go and request one of the newly issued tablets, they should not be so easy to compromise.”

“Yes Great Captain Smek!”

Oh gazed at him with glowing adoration until Kyle manually pulled him backward and pushed him toward the door. Then his head finally caught up with his orders, and he darted off with overflowing enthusiasm to do all that he was told. He only paused at the door when the Captain called his name. 

“Remember to password protect your new stuff!” Smek called.

Oh paused, thinking, then smiled. “I am already knowing what my password will be!” he replied, and his eyes were as much a sparkling canvas as the space behind Captain Smek. 

“Of course you do,” the Captain said. “Every Boov’s password is—” but Oh had already rushed off, and his point wilted in the air; “password…” Smek blinked, then shrugged. “That won’t turn into a problem,” he decided. 

He leaned on the scepter and smiled in the direction of the younger Boov’s vanished form. A weird sort of warmth spread through him when he recalled Oh’s words of praise. Before they’d been like static shocks, more surprising and off-balancing than they were pleasant. But now he soaked them in, the first of their kind. 

The prior Captain had never told Smek he was great. He’d never told him he was good, or even halfways acceptable. It hadn’t ever occurred to Smek to be bothered by this. He knew very well what he was; a genetically modified near-copy of the prior Captain, specifically made to be his replacement. The cast was already shaped and he was just another mold to be poured. It was Smek’s job to fit into that mold and fulfill his duty as the latest Captain in a long, long line of them.

And Boov Captains did not demand praise. They kept the Boov under their command at arm’s length. They were very much just captains stationed behind the wheel while everyone else scrambled around on a lower deck. Respect was necessary to keep control, but admiration? Such a thing couldn’t be expected from the Boov, whose efficiency was powered by apathy as much as intellect.

Now Oh, some random Boov that Smek would probably never see again, had given him his first taste of praise. It pooled inside him, in a place he’d never realized was so achingly empty. And it must have been a place with holes, because as soon as it was filled it was empty again. But now Smek knew it was there. More than that, he knew he wanted to keep it full.

He had an idea of how he could make that happen.

“Captain?”

The officer’s voice startled Smek from his thoughts, and he nearly fell on his face when the scepter slipped under his weight. He caught himself just in time and flushed a little under the other Boov’s odd stare.

“Ah! Yes-hello, officer Boov,” Smek fumbled, wiping off his vest. “What is your name? You has not told me. It does not matter,” he cut him off, “I have many things to be doing so you should go join your friend!” He jabbed the scepter toward the door.

“He is not my friend,” Kyle groaned, just short of dragging his hands down his face. “Please, Captain,” he implored, “for completement of the task of bringing in a Niner, I think I am deserving of a promotion! Right now I am just a low-level officer, but if you—”

“Promotion?” Smek echoed. He shook his head; “That is not my decision. As I has told you before, some of my duties are relinquished to my advisors. If you would like to—”

“But you are Captain!” Kyle cried. “You should's not—” All too late he realized he’d spoken over Captain Smek. He clammed up, turning a solid yellow and shrinking like the Captain’s stare had physical weight. “Sorry,” he squeaked.

“No, it’s…” Smek tilted his head. “What were you gonna say?”

“Uh…” 

Kyle balked at telling the truth, but there were no flecks of anger in the Captain’s face, nothing to threaten punishment if he said something wrong. He gathered all his courage. Which, since he was a proper Boov, really wasn’t a whole lot. 

He swallowed.

“I was only going to say that you should be having control,” Kyle explained meekly. “A Captain does not need permission for anything. He is not told what to be doing. He is not like—you are not like other Boov.”

“How am I not like other Boov? I mean,” Smek chortled, “apart from my genetic perfection, and my handsomeness, and overwhelming genius.” He studied his fingers with a satisfied smirk, ready to hear whatever other good things this officer could tack onto the list.

The nervous hunch to Kyle’s posture eased into something else. Not quite relaxed, but bordering on something wary and defeated. “As long’s as you are being Captain,” Kyle said, “you are the one and only Boov that is not entirely replaceable.”

It was an obvious truth, and it should have been a great compliment, more praise to add that empty bowl. But instead of feeling warm and gratifying, it dropped like a heavy pit. And wherever it settled, it was there to stay. 

“Yes-well, of course I have no replacement!” Smek replied, forcing a grin. “Not until I make one, at least. But that will be very long from now, won't it? And by then I will has made so many great changes, the Boov will be hating upon the new Captain just for not being me! I guarantee you,” he slung an arm around the officer, and didn’t get much resistance as he guided him to the door; “by the time my reign as Captain has ended, the Boov will not be having to fear the Gorg any longer.”

The door opened and Smek released the officer’s stiff shoulders, giving him a last, firm pat on the back that was as much a push over the threshold. But before the door closed, Kyle whirled with a red flush tinging his face.

“That Boov—” he faltered, sinking a little paler when he lost his nerve, “Oh, he is a troublesome Boov. I know for certainty he will makes more mistakes! Are you sure it was a good idea to just—let him go?”

The officer gave him a look. It was a familiar look, full of incredulity and doubt. And something more subtle, but ten times as bitter on the tongue. It was disappointment. That hard pit weighed heavier in Smek’s stomach. Maybe it would float if it was drowned in something else.

“I understand your worriment! But from here-now, all of my ideas will be good ones. Just as your pal said, I am great!” Smek grinned and jabbed Kyle’s head with the scepter; “And anyone who does not think that is a poomp!”

He winked, and before the officer could say anything else the door was already closed between them. Once again, Captain Smek was all alone in his quarters. But he didn’t feel as bored and listless as he had before those two Boov stumbled in. Truthfully, there was an idea that had been brewing in his mind since he’d been put in a corner by his advisors. It was a crazy idea. The kind that doused him with fear just to entertain it. Such a terrifying plan wouldn’t have naturally occurred to any Boov.

That's why it wasn’t even Captain Smek’s original idea. It was only his personal secret, cradled in his hands like some venomous creature. Keeping it from his advisors was somewhat of a petty act of defiance. But it was also a shining bit of hope that he could actually do something good for Boov. Something tantalizing to think of, but not quite motivating enough to set him into action. He needed something to make such a horrible risk worthwhile, and a better future for the Boov just wasn't enough.

But now Captain Smek knew what he wanted. He finally knew what would make the risk really worth it. And he was ready to take the idea he’d been given and lay it out on the table—literally.

A few precise taps on the table turned the hologram of the Boov mothership into flickering static. The static shifted into a message, the holographic letters ragged and gruesome like wounds in the air. It was the Gorgs’ written language. It was just as nasty and jarring as their spoken language, and any combination of letters looked like a threat. But this wasn’t a threat from the Gorg. This was something a lot more shocking; a proposal that Smek had received several weeks ago, and had been rolling around in his mind ever since.

The Gorg’s leader, K-Trong, was still waiting on his reply. Smek decided to make it quick and snappy. 

Interested. Let's talk.

Before he could feel properly terrified of what he was doing, Smek sent out the message. Then he laughed—a hysterical sort of laugh that was just as much a jittery cry.

“This is craziness,” he said, clutching his head and turning a solid yellow. “This is such a terrible idea!”

But even in the depths of his fear, Captain Smek was smiling. Because if this all worked out in his favor,

He couldn’t even imagine the kind of praise he was going to get from the Boov.

His trembling hands fumbled over the table as he tried to wipe away the Gorg’s previous message. He couldn’t have anyone walking into his quarters with Gorg letters hanging up in the air. But he tripped over the controls, and for a brief moment before the hologram morphed back into the Boov mothership, the letters flickered into English.

The words at the top of the stack were bold, and almost bleeding in their insistence:

REQUEST FOR PEACE MEETING.

Chapter Text

Throughout the Milky Way Galaxy, the Tucci family was facing dire challenges of extreme circumstance. But on Earth, within the city of Chicago, the furriest of the Tucci members was facing the toughest trial of them all. It would take a miracle to live another minute. He was already halfways dead. There was almost no point in trying to survive. After all…

His food bowl was completely empty.

“Mrrrrrowwwww…”  

Pig laid on his side, reaching a weak, tremulous paw toward the dish. His family had put a meager scoop of catfood in his bowl before they'd left in Slushious. It was enough to last him until six p.m., but now it was ten minutes past that. Nobody had returned to give him his second helping of Frisky Feline. He was starving and no human or Boov was there to save him. He needed Sensational Seafood, but at this point, he would take anything. Even the chunky gravy stuff he’d usually turn his pink nose up to.

A noise in the alleyway perked his ears. 

“Mrrow? Meow!”  

He jumped to his paws and ran from the kitchen. Someone was making noise in the alley outside of Oh’s bedroom. He put his ears into airplane mode when he jogged into the room, then leapt onto the crowded desk tucked below the windowsill. He put his paws on the window and looked gravely out through the glass, ready to shock his family with the shadows hugging his sallow, starved face—

“WE’VE BEEN SPOTTED!!”

“ROWWW!” Pig screeched and dove out of the room.

“Dude, shut up!!” someone whisper-yelled. “That was just a fat cat!”

“That was a cat?” another hissed. “No way, it was way too big. I think it was a dog. Do you think they have an attack dog?”

“Didn’t you see the news last night? Of course they have an attack dog! The Boov that lives here controls it with his mind! Oh my god—” the boy crowded behind a trash can, “what if he sends it down here to bite us up?!”

Two other kids whined and huddled, looking up at the window for the glowing red eyes of an evil alien and its vicious mind-enslaved dog. But the fourth boy, the leader of the group at a wise eleven years of age, was the only thing baring its teeth.

“You guys are bein’ a bunch of wimps!” he snapped. “How did I let any of you join my Brotherhood Organized against Oppressive Boov? Especially you, Christian! You’re gonna blow our cover before we get to blow anything else up.”

Christian offered a timid little apology but stayed crouched behind the trash can. He was a ten-year-old kid with scruffy hair and glasses as shiny as the stainless steel he was clinging to.

“Go easy on him, Curly,” one of the others groaned. He was Christian’s age, with tan skin and dark hair trimmed close to his scalp. “We’re in a lot of danger right now! My parents were talking last night, they said the Boov are nasty little monsters that eat anything! Even cats—or ducks,” he squinted. “They said either cats or ducks.”

“Which is it, Alberto?” Christian hissed. “There’s a pretty huge gross-out gap between eating cats or ducks.”

“I dunno, they were speaking Spanish and I’m not that fluent!” Alberto whined. “They always do that when they're talking about adult stuff. Like the Boov, or my mom’s parents.”

“Who cares what they eat?” Curly whisper-yelled. He glanced warily at the window before fixing his glare back on his troupe. They reluctantly crept into a group huddle when he waved them closer. “You guys need to quit actin’ like a bunch of girls! BOOB is boys only, so remember why I let you join this cause in the first place!”

“Because we’re boys?” Christian asked with a squint.

“No!” Curly snapped. “Because when we were stuck in Happy Humanstown, you promised you had the guts to fight back against all the stupid Boov that took over the planet!”

“We did a lot of fun pranks,” Alberto whispered with a little smile.

“They weren’t pranks! It was gorilla warfare! The Boov are lucky they left when they did, it coulda been a bloodbath for ‘em,” Curly said ominously. As ominously as a curly-haired kid in a Spiderman t-shirt can say anything. “I only showed mercy in the beginning cos their pizza was pretty good.”

“I’m hungry,” the youngest of the group suddenly whined. He was only nine, with big sad eyes nearly hidden behind a mop of fuzzy blond hair.

The other boys briefly considered him.

“Marcos, why do you only ever think about food?” Christian complained.

“Yeah, why is he even part of this group?”

“He showed his valor in Happy Humanstown when he puked all over a Boov,” Curly said. 

Marcos deflated. “I ate too much ice cream,” he whined. 

Curly shook his head. “We need to stop wastin’ time! If we stay here too long we’re gonna get caught. This is our only chance to show the Boov what they get for messing with our planet, and our moon!”

Murmurs of agreement were at odds with the wincing reluctance on the younger boys’ faces. This plan felt a lot more heroic when Curly was spelling it out to them during their sleepover last night. But now that they were actually huddled in a dingy alleyway, crouching outside the home of Earth’s only Boov resident, it just felt plain crazy. Curly read the fear in their expressions. He could read faces even better than books, and he was at a sixth grade reading level.

He scowled. “Don’t back out on me now, guys! Haven’t you been listening to our parents, or anyone else? Nobody wants the Boov on our planet, they’re monsters! Somebody’s gotta chase this one off! Don’t you wanna be heroes? Like Spiderman?” He patted his shirt.

Christian, Alberto, and Marcos looked at the faded graphic of a man in red spandex, and somewhere within that found the courage they’d lacked. The squelchy fear in their eyes hardened into something determined. They were hungry for justice for all the Boov made them endure, back during the invasion and now with all the weird planet stuff happening from the moon’s new orbit. 

Alberto’s parents talked in Spanish about the scary things they'd seen on the news about the Boov. They thought he couldn’t understand them, but he picked up on more than they knew. Christian’s cat ran off this last week, and his mom said it was probably the moon’s new vibrations that made her forget to properly close the window. And a few days ago, an altered-orbit induced downpour ruined a rare chance for Curly to spend the day outside with his dad. As for Marcos—well, his hamster died. But that couldn’t really be pinned on the orbital change. No, it was for unrelated reasons involving a vacuum cleaner and a schloomp sound.

The point is that they were ready to go through with Curly’s crazy anti-Boov plan. After quietly cheering their mantra, BOOB RULES!, the boys went into action. Curly slung the backpack off his shoulders and the other kids crowded it like zebra around a watering hole. And just like the deceptively calm water that hides crocodiles, so Curly’s campy superhero backpack hid a dangerous surprise. They were presents from his dad after the rainstorm ruined their day out together. Meant for use in a field far outside of the city—and definitely not meant to be aimed directly at anyone’s window.

Pig was parked back in front of his bowl when the fireworks were lit, and while the flames ate down to the bases of the wicks, all his concerns still belonged to his stomach. The other tenants were just as oblivious to the disaster unfolding in the alleyway outside. Even the culprits, now ducking behind a dumpster and peeking out to watch the sparking wicks, weren’t truly aware of the danger. They thought they knew exactly what they were doing—

But then the fireworks went off, whistling and screaming and searing the wall black, crashing through the window and billowing dark smoke that flickered and popped with morbidly cheery colors. When sound and smoke and loose sparks poured down from above, the boys turned as puffy and petrified as the cat skittering and screeching around the kitchen. Most of them bolted for the street. But Christian stayed behind, his huge eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses. The lenses reflected the wild colors of the fireworks, then changed to something flickering and orange and all the more terrible.

“Fire,” he gawked. “Guys…there's a fire!”

“C’mon!” Alberto screamed, rushing back to grab his friend by the scruff of his collared shirt.

The kids ran from the scene, shouting and tripping over their own clumsy feet. Christian could feel the fat tears that rolled down his face and made his glasses slip down his nose. But no amount of regret was about the douse the flames they’d started in the Tuccis’ home. Smoke poured from Oh’s bedroom and the thick, awful smell filled Pig’s nose. He hacked and sneezed where he hid beneath the living room couch. 

“I’m sorry,” Christian wailed. He and the other boys were near the end of the block now. He remembered the animal in the window, the one whose face had scared him before. Now, those big yellow eyes gazing from his memory filled him with a different kind of horror.

“I’m sorry! I'm sorry! I’m—”

*   *   *

“—sorry,” Kyle apologized, already resigned to a well-deserved punch.

In New Boovworld, tucked in an alleyway hundreds of thousands of miles from the one outside Oh’s bedroom, Tip dropped her head and sighed. She’d been stiff and quiet while Kyle had been telling his story. A few times her hands itched, wanting to lash out against that Boov who’d called her best friend a Niner and brought him to be erased. But when she looked at Kyle, at the guilt in his face as he apologized, she remembered that Boov wasn’t the same one sitting next to her right now.

“I’m not mad. Well,” she said, “I am mad, but not at you. Specifically. I think I’m mad at everything right now.” She flung out her foot to kick a pebble, then sank deeper against the wall. “I guess I kind of understand why you wanted to keep Oh from his duties as Captain.” Tip frowned. “You're still pretty stupid for it, though.”

“What?!” Kyle gawked, and she smirked a little. He sounded just like her teachers when one of the kids said a dirty word. “Maybies it was a little lacking of reason, but stupid is a strong word!” he huffed. “Smek's years of Captain made him lose his care of Boov! Is it so craziness if I fear the same of the new Captain?”

“Yeah,” Tip scoffed. She pulled down her hood just so he got a good view of her rolling her eyes. “Look, Smek’s definitely got a couple brownie points for not being a total monster and erasing my best friend. But someone who’s as kind as Oh never turns into the kind of person that Smek is now, no matter what he’s put through. Oh is always gonna make the right decisions, no matter how much pressure he’s under.”

Kyle nodded, but he still didn’t look completely convinced. She didn’t understand how anyone who knew Oh could believe that he would ever turn into a selfish leader. But she wasn’t old enough to have seen someone really change through the years. Hopefully she’d never have to watch anyone change the way Smek apparently had.

A heavy feeling weighed down on her shoulders. It was damp and dark, like her own personal storm cloud. The first time she'd felt it was the day of the invasion, Christmas of last year. It was early in the morning; Tip was dressed in her pajamas and sitting in the living room with her mom. They were smiling and sharing presents while Pig slept peacefully on the couch behind them. Everything had felt so safe, and so certain. 

Then her whole life was shaken and left suspended in the air, just a snow globe in someone else’s careless hand, and when everything settled her mom was gone. When she was hiding in her room that night, scared and confused and alone for the first time, she’d felt that same heavy feeling that was draped around her shoulders right now. 

It was all the dread of an uncertain future. The alien invasion taught her that life wasn’t some stable thing beneath her feet. It was unpredictable and shaky, and prone to tilting way too far in any direction.

But the invasion didn’t just give her a scary fall past her safety net. It gave her the person that caught her when she thought she’d already hit the ground. Oh was there for her when it counted. And that heavy feeling of uncertainty eased up when Tip realized she’d always be there for him, too.

“Hey.”

Tip put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder, startling him from his own troubled thoughts. His eyes were clouded with worry, as they so often were. But Tip’s own green eyes were surprisingly clear. She smiled at him through the fear, and from what Kyle had seen of her mom, it was like Lucy Tucci was back for a split second in front of him.

“Even if I’m wrong, which is literally impossible,” she huffed, and then the thirteen-year-old kid was back, “Oh’s got something Smek didn’t have when he was Captain.”

“What is that?” Kyle asked.

“He’s got people he can trust. People that really care about him, who’ll always be there to help him when he needs it. Like me, or my mom, or a traffic cop, slash President, slash super Boov,” Tip grinned, and it was like she’d slapped a hot towel on him. Heat blazed on his face as he flushed pink. “Oh’s got people he can fall back on. So he’s never gonna fall too far.”

“Since when are you such a smarty?” Kyle groaned, rubbing circles on his face to try and clear out the embarrassing pink.

Tip laughed and turned to give him a soft kick. “Hey! I’ve always been smart, I got an A in geometry!”

“So I’ve heard,” and it was Kyle’s turn to roll his eyes. “So…” suddenly he turned shy. “You forgive me for my past acts of terribleness?”

She hummed. “Not yet,” she decided, and his face fell.

“But then, how—”

“You owe me a favor. You owe me like a thousand favors, but I’ll condense it into one Super Favor.”

Kyle considered this, searching her face, then he smirked like he thought he’d found something hidden there. “Ahh,” he said, brushing off his vest. “The favor you are wanting is a friendship hug. Usually I do’s not like those, but for a favor—” He opened his arms and leaned in.

“UH NO, get away,” Tip snorted, holding him off with a shoe on his vest. “You must think you give awesome hugs.”

He deflated, then tried to play it off with indignity. “Probablies I do,” he griped, swiping at the shoe print. “You will never know. So what is the favor, then?”

“It doesn’t have to be you that does it. You’re President, so you can make other Boov do stuff for you.”

“That is oversimplification of the job.”

“But it’s the gist, right?”

“Well-yes, but you are being implying of abuse of power.”

“Hey, if you wanna go down to Earth and feed my cat Pig yourself, go ahead. It's almost six, and he’s gonna start howling like the place is on fire.”

“I will to make certain Shirl takes care of that right away,” Kyle replied, grabbing his tablet with the same speed he tossed that favor at somebody else. He fired off the message, but before he could tuck it back into his pocket, it dinged with a response.

“That was fast,” Tip said.

“Yes, Shirl is very—” Kyle froze when he saw the message.

It took him a split second too long to explain what he was so shocked about, and Tip crowded to look at the tablet. “What? What is it?” she hissed when he kept pulling the tablet closer to his face.

“It is Oh! He has an update from the search for Lucy Tucci!”

“Mom!” Tip cried. “What's the update?!”

“Someone has found her. They are wanting to face-conference!”

“Who is it?” Tip barely short of screamed, ready to punch him or kick him or rip out her own curly hair.

Kyle looked at her, and his eyes were as big and round as the moon they were sitting on. “The Gorg,” he said.

He remotely summoned a bubble craft with his tablet, and seconds later he and Tip were flying out of the alleyway. They were on their way to reunite with Oh and finally learn for certain that Lucy Tucci was okay. Meanwhile, someone else was flying off on their own personal mission. It was being completed with a different sort of vigor: not one of love and worry, but of the resolute drive to get one job done right.

Shirl’s previous job of capturing Disgraced Former Captain Smek certainly hadn’t gone right. She took her job as a competent Senior Officer Boov seriously, and the fugitive’s escape from her grasp was beyond humiliating. Now that her President had given her another order, she was going to complete it without complaint or failure. Even if she had to dive through fire to do it.

Which, apparently, she would.

“This day just keeps getting better,” Shirl muttered, hovering just beyond a writhing pillar of smoke.

She dove in.

Chapter Text

Talking had never been a strong point of the Boov, and not just in terms of their choppy linguistics. As quiet and closed-off as they’d been amongst themselves, to others they were downright elusive. The most they were willing to offer other people in terms of communication was a two-second heads up that Hi, hello, we’re here to invade! You’re welcome! The only time a Boov sent a genuinely friendly message to another species was by accident, and it was treated as a disaster of apocalyptic, world-shattering proportions. 

Not to mention—as Lucy pointed out one night, after her kids’ teasing reenactment of The Legend of the Shusher—years of suffering could’ve been avoided if the Boov had known how to talk to different kinds of people. And, more than that, if they’d known how to listen. To Tip, that was a very lame adulty observation that ruined the fun of messing around with comb-mustaches. For Oh, it was something that kept him awake for hours until he wrestled out of his blankets to tell Tip his grand idea.

Tip had been a little hesitant to support his plan for a remote communications center in New Boovworld. Giving the Boov that kind of communicative range felt pretty iffy. Once, at one of Oh’s parties, Kyle told their mom he wasn’t aware of humans’ ability to shed their skin. Then he walked off like he hadn’t just called her ashy, leaving her to stare blankly into her wine glass for the rest of the night. It was just like the Boov to land a devastating blow with absolutely no malicious intent. And some people might respond by doing more than just overstocking on body lotion. 

But she’d told Oh she thought it was a good idea. Partially because he was her best friend and she wanted to support him. Mostly because she’d been prodded awake up at 4 a.m. and wanted to go back to bed.

It wasn’t until she’d been crouched beside Kyle in his bubble craft, flying toward the giant shiny dome on top of his presidential tower, that she realized Oh had actually made it happen. Boov Electro-Librational Communications Hub—charmingly named BELCH for short, because of course it was—was a reflective bowl-shaped structure reminiscent of a paranoid guy’s tinfoil hat. Tip could appreciate the irony that it was meant to absorb alien signals. More than anything, she could appreciate that Oh actually went through with creating a hub that allowed real-time face-to-face communication with people trillions of miles away.

Because now Tip was inside of BELCH, standing in front of a giant bubble-screen with all the proof she could hope for that her mom was alive and well.

“Mom!” she cried, rushing for the image that had flickered to life inside the bubble. Oh barely grabbed her in time.

“Carefulness!” he said with an apologetic wince. “Do not pop!”

“Kids!” Lucy called back. Relief flooded her voice. “I’m so happy to see you! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“We’re okay?! You’re the one that got kidnapped! But of course the Gorg would find you, he’s got the best tracking drones ever. When you finally get back, I’m gonna…” Tip paused, squinting. Her focus shifted beyond her mom’s face, down to the dark gray, leathery suit wrapping her form like a second skin. “Wait,” she gawked, “What are you wearing?”

“Uhh…” Lucy glanced down at the suit. “The Gorg made me some kind of organic suit, similar to the one he has. My other clothes got a little frazzled. And I wanted to freshen up before my video conference with you two…I mean three,” she corrected, glancing a little warily at Kyle.

“Where is the Gorg, anywho’s?” Kyle asked. The room was expansive, with dark floors and dark walls accented by glowing green lines. It was odd to see the Gorg’s signature architecture with absolutely no Gorg in sight.

“K-Trong is busy at the moment,” Lucy explained with a smile that bordered between humor and sympathy. “This is the Gorglings’ bedtime, and things can get a little chaotic when you’re trying to put an entire next generation to bed. That gives us some time to talk, just us!”

“Hey,” Tip said when something finally occurred to her. The Gorg wasn’t the only one missing from the scene. “Where’s—”

Oh beat her to the punch. An appropriate phrase, considering his skin flushed red and his hands balled into fists. “Where is Smek?” he asked with some bite.

Lucy blinked, a little startled. “He’s fine, he’s in a holding cell right now. I don’t think K-Trong wants Smek running around and causing trouble like last time.” She frowned. “What’s got you so angry, honey? This isn’t like you.”

“He stole Tipmom!” Oh cried, throwing his hands at her like she needed the proof. 

“He didn’t do it on purpose, sweetie. He wanted to steal Slushious…which isn’t that great, either. But trust me, the kidnapping part wasn’t intended. When he saw me he thought I was gonna attack him.” 

Tip snirked. Oh wasn’t amused, and his skin had yet to fade from red.

“Smek did’s not just steal Slushious!” Oh snapped. “He did much worse!”

Suddenly Tip’s smile fell from her face. She shuffled uncomfortably, reaching to touch her temple. Even Kyle’s strict demeanor faltered. He glanced between the two humans with nervous anticipation.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked. She visibly tensed. “What else happened?”

“Smek did the worst act,” Oh growled. “He—”

“He messed up Oh’s speech!” Tip cut in. Ignoring Oh’s incredulous stare, she continued, “The whole thing was going great, but Smek had to open his big mouth and ruin everything. Now the Boov won’t fix the orbit!”

Lucy sighed. “From what I’ve seen of him, that makes sense.”

“But—but he also,” Oh tried to explain but Tip gave him a sharp look. He wasn’t always the best at interpreting human facial expressions, but after everything he’d gotten up to with his honorary older sister, he was well familiar with the Don’t Tell Mom look. 

Just to be safe, Tip threw the same look over her shoulder. Kyle startled and searched for an escape exit. Then, like a favor from the universe, his tablet dinged.

“Ah! Message from Senior Officer Shirl!” Kyle said. He waved the tablet to show the proof. “Back from Earthland! I should go make sure her mission is completement to satisfaction…” He rushed out of the room, and Tip had the strangest feeling he wasn’t running to make sure Pig was well-fed.

Oh was pouting, sucking in his lips like it was the only way to hold something back, and Tip was staring him down. “I have a feeling we have lots to discuss when I get back,” Lucy said, glancing between them.

“When are you going to be back?” Tip asked. Her eyes lit up with desperate hope. “It’s going to be soon, right?”

“I think so,” Lucy said. Something drew her attention to the side. “You’ll have to ask…Uh oh,” she turned and braced, “incoming!”

And that was all the warning her kids got before an orange-colored blur of leather skin flew into frame, landing in Lucy’s arms like a football and knocking her back a couple steps. Oh shrieked and it was Tip’s turn to hold him back from charging into the bubble-screen.

“Tipmom!” he yelped.

“Dude, relax! Look!” Tip pointed.

A miniature version of K-Trong curled contentedly in Lucy’s hold and blinked up at her with glowing yellow eyes. But unlike its dad, the biosuit it wore was burnt orange instead of gray, and there weren’t any freaky spikes rearing up from its shoulders.

“Someone doesn’t want to go to bed,” Lucy cooed to the creature cradled in her arms.

Oh slumped when he realized their mom wasn’t under attack. He sighed more dramatically than he had in the Chinese forest, back when they found out the fallen drone didn’t have a pilot.

“You’ve been so high strung,” Tip said a little critically.

“No I has—Ahhh!”

K-Trong barreled into view. He reached to grab his kid from Lucy’s arms, but the Gorgling hissed in defiance and crawled to duck behind her shoulders. For a brief moment she was just a jungle-gym as the Gorgling deftly dodged all of its father’s grabs, then it leapt off her torso and ran off on all fours. K-Trong grabbed his head and muttered something that, despite the Gorgs’ naturally harsh language, had to have been a curse.

“Single parenthood,” Lucy chuckled. She shrank just a little next to the giant, fuming mechsuit. “It’s a full-time job, isn’t it?”

Tip winced when Oh started talking Gorgspeak. Then K-Trong turned and returned the noises in kind. The humans shared a baffled little shrug while the aliens had their weird conversation. Things seemed to be going well, up until the point K-Trong started gesturing at Lucy and Oh’s voice pitched in volume. 

It wasn’t until Oh groaned and yanked at his nostricles that Tip demanded an explanation.

“K-Trong wants to keep Tipmom for another day!”

“What?!” Tip and Lucy cried in unison.

Tip said, “She’s not a pet, he can’t just keep her!”

“What does he need me for?” Lucy asked. She glanced warily at the Gorg standing next to her.

“The Gorg is needing to collect on nutrientment for ship supply. He is to be deploying drones for collection of organics from planet, but it is requiring much focus. He wants for Tipmom to tend to Gorglings…”

Tip scoffed. “He’s holding her hostage for babysitting duty?”

“It is what he wants in favor of returning Tipmom, in place of bounty,” Oh explained miserably. He shook his head. “I will not accept! I will send Boov officer—no! I will go myself for retrieval of Tipmom! Gorg will take bounty, and—”

“No, tell him I’ll do it.”

“What? Mom!” Tip whined.

Oh argued, “That is not necessary! I have the coordinates, I can be there very speediness!”

“K-Trong needs the break! Just look at him.” Lucy gestured to the Gorg.

The Gorg's eyes had drifted shut while they'd been speaking what sounded like flat-inflectioned gibberish. He slumped where he stood, and his head dropped between the skull-studded spikes. A rumbling growl drifted from the mechsuit.

“Did he just fall asleep?” Tip asked.

“I remember those days,” Lucy sighed. “It's like looking in a mirror of my twenties. A very scary, very spiky mirror.”

“Are you certainty you want to stay extra time with Gorg?” Oh asked, a petulant whine creeping into his voice. 

“Yeah, Mom. I’ve got nothing against the Gorg at this point, but we don’t exactly owe him any huge favors.” Tip frowned and crossed her arms. It couldn’t be all too petty to have some hard feelings about the attempted destruction of their planet.

“I’m certain,” Lucy replied. She sighed, and her tired posture matched that of the Gorg’s. She picked at the leather arm of her suit. “It’s only for an extra day. And, to be honest, I wouldn’t mind a longer break from Earth.”

For a second Tip and Oh were raring to argue. Then they faltered, shared a look, then shared a groan. “That’s…reasonable,” Tip relented with a pout.

“I want both of you to stay in New Boovworld while I’m gone,” Lucy said. “Oh, you can send someone to pick up Pig and some human food for Tip. But don’t go to Earth. There's been too much attention on our apartment for you two to be staying there by yourselves. You can stay…Kyle?”

Tip laughed. “Yeah, we are not staying with—”

“Urgent news—ow!” Kyle yelped and K-Trong jumped to attention. The Gorg searched frantically for a hurt Gorgling, then saw the Boov with pain-bands rippling from his forehead and immediately relaxed.

“Dude, you hunted us for weeks, you can’t just sneak up on us like that!” Tip complained, which was the closest Kyle could expect to an apology for the startled punch.

In spite of being a bit of a spaz, the officer could be pretty sneaky when he wanted to. Most Boov reacted to stress with flashy colors and obnoxious tantrums. But with Kyle, any weight of responsibility on his shoulders sank him deeper into subtlety. He’d been able to appear almost out of thin air during the days of the invasion. Now, under the scrutiny of humans and Boov and Gorg alike, everything in his posture was trying to squeeze him out of existence.

“I-I apologize for interruption, but I need to talk to Oh!” Kyle explained.

“Uh—one moment.” Oh turned and talked to K-Trong in Gorgspeak. The Gorg replied with a couple curt syllables and a small nod. “Everything is settled with Gorg,” Oh sighed. “Tipmom will be returned by the end of Earthland’s next rotation.”

“Good!” Kyle nodded frantically, “Everything is settled so the conference can be completement!” 

“Wait—Kyle!” Lucy called, and he cringed. “What's going on? Is something wrong? You’re acting strange.”

“It is nothing,” Kyle said, flushing green. “Just—ahm—I ate too much Koobish…”

“Pig.”

“That is rudeness!” Kyle cried.

“No,” Lucy said, “Pig—!”

And that was the last Lucy managed to say before a flying bundle of fur launched into her image, popping the bubble with his claws. Pig yowled as his favorite human burst into a million watery flecks around him. He leapt into Oh’s arms and cried feline tales of woe, shaking and burrowing into the Boov’s vest.

“Pigcat!” Oh yelped.

“Pig!” Tip cried. She looked at Kyle. “How is he here right now? Why is he here! I didn’t—I didn't get to say goodbye to Mom!”

“My apologies,” came a feminine voice. “The cat-pig was very insistent to reunite with his masters.” 

Tip glanced at the unfamiliar female Boov that had entered BELCH. She had the same kind of vest that Kyle wore, except the textured bubbles were melted flat in a couple spots, and the trim was singed near her face. Even more disconcerting than her roughed-up appearance was the stench of smoke that waved off her. She smelled like the ashtray on the step of the Tuccis’ apartment building, and Boov didn't take smoke breaks.

She introduced herself as Shirl, and she explained that she’d arrived to find their home on fire.

Even for Shirl, this was a long and horrendous conversation. If the Boov had any penchant for metaphor, she would have been reminded of her efforts to extinguish the fire. 

After retrieving the cat from the apartment, Shirl doused the flames with foam from her bubble craft. The flames were killed, just like Tip and Oh’s horror when she assured them that the fire was out and the other residents were okay. But the smoke persisted. It billowed and choked the air and promised to linger for as long as it could. And so did the emotion that lingered on the kids’ faces, fear and sorrow and anger that was nearly tangibly drifting in the air around them.

But Shirl did not bother with such thoughts. In the end, her only concern was that her task had been completed. So, in the sizzling quiet that followed the heat of the conversation, she mentioned, “The cat-pig was given a helping of the Sensational Seafood, proportional to ideal weight.”

“Thanking you, Shirl,” Kyle replied. “You are—”

“Both dismissed,” Oh finished. “I am needing to talk to Tip, aloneliness.”

For the first couple minutes that Oh and Tip stood alone, Boov Electro-Librational Communications Hub was a lot quieter than it was ever intended to be. Tip pet Pig in the small amount of space she could reach beyond Oh’s arms. He was hugging Pig with more desperation than the cat was clinging to him, even with two sets of claws buried in his vest. Tip waited for Oh to say what he needed to say about what had happened on Earth. To wonder aloud how humans, whom he idolized, could have done such a terrible thing.

She wasn’t expecting him to suddenly pin his accusational stare on her.

“You did’s not let me explain to Tipmom that Smek hurt you,” Oh glowered.

Tip sighed and shook her head. “I know you're still mad at him. I'm mad at him too. But I know when I owe someone a favor. Smek didn’t hurt you when he could’ve, back when Kyle tried to turn you in for that ninth mistake. So I want to let him off the hook, just this once.”

“So what then?” Oh grumbled. “We just let Smek to run away?”

“Yeah,” Tip snorted. “When they get back, let’s do Smek one last favor and let him run off for good. Running away is what he does best. You know,” Tip giggled and prodded Oh with her elbow, “I’ll bet that ‘holding cell’ Mom mentioned before isn’t holding anything right now.”

On the moon, that image of an empty cell was a weak attempt at lightening up a very dark, oppressive mood. On the Gorg’s mothership, the sight really wasn’t funny at all.

As Lucy would have to find out, caring for an entire next generation of feral Gorglings wasn’t even the worst of babysitting extremes.

Chapter Text

“The Boov are miserable little soap-eaters.”

That was the direct translation of K-Trong’s guttural words echoing down the corridor. Although, with the proper context, it could accurately be translated to “My ungrateful kid won’t let me sleep.” See, the Gorg species had a rich linguistic culture whose meaning existed in the nuances of intonation. An insult against the Boov could mean virtually anything depending on how it was spoken. A spit on the first single-celled bacterial ancestor of the Boov could be sentimental admiration for a beautiful day.

Of course, K-Trong usually tried to avoid the habit of expressing disdain for the Boov. He still didn’t have any special affection for the aliens that erased every other Gorg of his generation. But their new Captain, Oh, had returned his kids to him in an act of selflessness novel to either species. The fued between Boov and Gorg that had lasted for millennia was finally over. K-Trong didn’t want his kids to inherent any of his own grudges. Right now, though, he was just too exhausted to care about what he said. All the Gorglings were asleep anyway. 

Well. All except one.

His search for that particular troublemaker had led him to one of the ship’s corridors of holding cells. And not coincidentally, the corridor in which his old enemy Smek was trapped. K-Trong had yet to see him lucid. The Boov had been almost adamantly unconscious since he was brought on board the Gorg mothership. He was probably awake by now, and K-Trong had no qualms admitting he’d love to see the stupid terror on his face. 

Sure, it was petty. But kidnapping somebody’s children during a peace meeting also fell within that range, didn’t it?

The Gorg made a low rumbling growl that didn't particularly mean anything. But it was certainly as much a vicious threat as anything words could put together. He approached Smek’s cell, glaring and bristling and ready to convey all his deep-seated contempt in the couple seconds it took to pass by. There’d be shrill screams and bright yellow colors. K-Trong personally found amusement in the Boovs’ fear response. They became the most obnoxiously conspicuous things in existence, in the very moments it would do well for them to disappear.

Unless they'd finally figured that out for themselves. K-Trong froze in his tracks, and the small creature hidden beyond the mask blinked dumbly in time with the mechsuit’s yellow eyes. The absence of a shrieking Boov registered before he even realized the green-tinted force field was down. A perfectly round cut had been surgically pried off the back wall, revealing the glowing green intestinal circuitry beyond. Thin chords snaked from the wall and hooked up to the charred, sparking remains of an overwhelmed Boov tablet.

It was of no help to K-Trong to consider how smart it would’ve been to check the Boov’s vest pocket. And it wasn’t particularly helpful for a familiar tide of anger to rise up inside of him. Some problems required logical solutions, even though that was a grossly Boov notion. But the wave of anger grew, drawing on memories of the last time Smek fled through the ship, and then a sudden realization hit him with the same wild force that his rage crashed and spilled throughout his body. The Gorgling was loose too, in the same proximity of the Boov that had already stolen it once before.

K-Trong’s roar echoed throughout the ship. He roared probably the most vicious insult against a Boov that he himself had ever heard. And this time, it wasn’t anything up to interpretation.

*   *   *

Smek briefly paused in his wild sprint through the mothership. He heaved for breath, wiping his brow and squinting at the distant roar of the Gorg leader.

“I do not even have a mother,” he muttered. 

Apparently K-Trong figured out he’d hacked the cell and taken down the force field with his Boovish tablet. He might've even noticed that Smek had snagged a useful little souvenir. He reached into his pocket now, just to make sure the pyramidal piece of Gorg tech he’d scrounged from the wall was still there. It was quite literally the key to his escape. Slushious was out of fuel, but with this chip Smek could jolt the car back to life.

Plugging into the mainframe gave him a complex map of the ship’s interior and allowed him to pinpoint Slushious’ location. It was one of those times when his perfect memory came in handy, and he used it to his full advantage as he dove through the confusing maze of halls. The dark, sharp-edged architecture was a shocking change of pace from all the colorful and spherical themes that any Boov was used to. Green lines slashed the walls around him, glowing and ebbing like the ship itself was a breathing monster. It felt like he was being digested even while he fled for safety.

At least he was nearly to Slushious, over halfway there if he’d calculated the distance correctly. And he was a Boov so that wasn’t really a question. It would hardly take him two seconds to wire up the Gorg chip, and he’d be millions of miles away by the end of a minute. In a rare instance where something wriggled past his terror, Smek grinned. He really was the best Boov at running away. This was the second time he’d slipped from right under the Gorg’s non-existent nose. To think that K-Trong was the sole trainer of a next generation of trackers. Those suckers didn’t stand a chance.

But there was always a star student. That’s how Smek would’ve explained it if he still had the presence of mind to form a pretentious thought. Honestly though, only one thought formed when he turned a hard corner and met the patiently waiting Gorgling: 

He. Was. Dead.

In an instant the Gorgling was on top of him. It was less than half his size, but the mechsuit had that insane density that made Gorg wary of water. Smek had been effectively pinned, and he barely had time to scream before the Gorg lunged to bite—

And chomped down on the curious thing the Boov clutched so desperately in his hand. Sparks flew and a nasty web of green voltage writhed across the mechsuit. The Gorgling screeched and rolled across the floor, twitching and wincing until the electricity faded and it scuttled off with a high-pitched whine.

Smek hefted himself to his pods and watched the Gorgling run crying around the corner. His stunned expression slowly morphed into something way more smug than was really justified.

“HA!” he laughed, making sure it echoed through the ship. He switched to Gorgspeak; “Take that, you little brat! Be sure to tell K-Trong that the Great Captain Smek gave you a fraction of the nasty shock you deserve! And if I ever see you again, I’ll—I’ll…”

He saw the Gorgling again a lot faster than he expected, crouching behind the hulking form of its father. Needless to say, any trace of smugness on the young Gorg’s face was more than deserved.

Smek blanched white and his nostricles dropped down his back. He glanced from the seething face of K-Trong to the similarly seething wreck of a Gorg chip in his hand.

“Eheh…” he tossed the useless chip to the side and took a couple trembling steps backward. “Soo,” he stuck a couple fingers in the air, “how about Peace Meeting Part Two?”

*   *   *

Lucy looked forward to spending the night alone, in a quiet place without any shouting protestors demanding her attention. K-Trong had offered the human her own private room when she’d arrived on the ship. It was one of many, many, many empty living quarters on the mothership. Which would end up completely shattering her heart if she really let herself think about it. 

She had to spare her own feelings and focus on selfish thoughts, like how she really wished the Gorg had any tendencies toward comfort. The bed was pretty much just a slab of steel and there weren't any sheets or pillows in sight. That was why she'd walked to Slushious, getting lost a couple times and hitting dead ends until she finally stumbled upon the right room. And “room” was a pretty humble word for it, because the boarding dock had enough space for an entire city.

For as giant as the Gorg ship was, there were hardly any supplies to show how a person could be expected to live inside it. Fortunately Slushious was basically a MoPo on wheels, and if her daughter could survive on gas station junk food for two weeks during an alien invasion, then Lucy could probably last a day on chips and soda too. 

Now, after raiding the car for blankets and a very lenient definition of “sustenance”, Lucy was ready to burrow into her own private corner of the ship. She’d try to get a decent night’s rest before her weighty task of watching over the Gorglings tomorrow. She had a feeling she really didn’t understand the full breadth of the favor that she’d agreed to. But as soon as she’d known for certain that she had a secure transit back to her kids, and that they were alright without her for the time being, something other than compassion prompted her to stay and help K-Trong.

She really did feel empathy for his struggles as a single parent. And she was willing to give him an overdue break from his kids, so he could focus on some kind of alien grocery run. But she knew that she was ultimately sparing herself from a bigger chore, that of returning to Chicago, where it was harder every day to feel safe and at home.

Lucy sighed over the heaping pile of blankets and snacks in her arms. She just needed to focus on finding her way back to her room on the Gorg’s ship. If she got lost, she was fully prepared to make a nest in a random spot like some kind of unwelcome rodent. At least she wouldn’t be in the mouse trap like a certain Boov.

As Lucy walked away from Slushious, heading toward one of the boarding dock’s many triangular exits, she briefly wondered how he was doing. Hopefully he’d finally accepted that there was nowhere for him to run, and that he was going back to New Boovworld whether he liked it or not. Seriously, she mused with some irritation; there were worse things than having to return to a city that was actually safe.

But screaming and running away were both dearly held habits of the prior Captain. Habits he had yet to break out of, which was made very clear to Lucy when he suddenly ran screaming onto the boarding dock. She paused and watched him flee for Slushious like he had any hope of escaping in it. Didn’t he remember the car was out of fuel? But there was something familiar in the way that he ran.

Lucy remembered her last day in Happy Humanstown. Everyone had been so happy when the Boov fled from the human camps without warning. Many people taunted and jeered at the little aliens while they rushed past, but Lucy hadn’t been one of them. The fear in their eyes told her they weren’t just running toward the Boov mothership. They were running away from something else. Now, like then, she recognized the look of someone being hunted.

And just like last time, K-Trong was the one closing in. But instead of being a faceless pursuer hidden away in a giant looming spaceship, the Gorg had taken a more personal approach to this chase. K-Trong flew out of the same corridor Smek had come screaming out of. He was down on all fours in a loping run between that of a wolf and a gorilla, and he was catching up fast to the Boov. Lucy’s heart dropped when she realized Smek, the self-proclaimed inventor of running away, wasn’t going to be able to outrun him. The car was too far, and the Gorg was too fast.

But Boov were quite the little strategists, and Smek’s survival plan changed the second his wild-eyed gaze moved from the car to the frozen human observer. The floor squealed with how sharp he turned and then both the aliens were on trajectory right toward her. Lucy dropped the blankets and took a few useless steps back. She hardly had time to shout before the Boov tackled her with all the force of a cannonball.

They rolled and she wound up on top of him. Which she thought was an accident, until he curled and burrowed underneath her like an invertebrate fitting its new shell. It turned out his new strategy was to use her as a human shield. She peeked up to see K-Trong hovering over them, huffing and puffing and in every way the big bad wolf. Lucy flattened herself as much as she could with a shivering Boov crammed underneath her.

“What did you do?” she hissed.

“The Gorg’s little brat started it!” Smek wailed.

“Oh no,” she groaned. Then the Gorg reached one of his lanky tentacle-arms toward her. 

Maybe Lucy could've reasoned with him if she’d just opened her mouth and used her words. She didn’t know Gorgspeak, but tone was pretty universal. And K-Trong had no intention of hurting her. In her leather suit, she was very much just the inconvenient fruit-peel between the Gorg and what he really wanted to sink his teeth into. But the day’s growing culmination of chases and tackles and general alien unpleasantness had her nerves completely frayed. So when she used her mouth to resolve the issue, it wasn’t in any way she was proud of.

K-Trong screeched and reeled backward. He stumbled in a fashion that was way too dramatic for anyone not planning insurance fraud. He cradled his arm pitifully and spat some Gorgspeak at her.

“Oh my gosh!” Lucy cried. She scrambled to her feet. “I didn’t mean to—I am so sorry!” 

Lucy grimaced. There was a sour taste in her mouth. And not just in a guilty sense, K-Trong’s mechsuit tasted awful.

At least the cat-and-mouse chase was temporarily on hold. Lucy had their attention and she wanted to help resolve their issues. This time without anyone biting anyone else. She wasn’t exactly fond of Smek, but she’d already put a lot of effort into keeping him in one piece, and he was starting to feel like a homework assignment she really deserved to get full credit for. Even though he actively tried to get himself eaten by the dog. 

She was still figuring out how to talk things out with K-Trong when a barely-stifled laugh made the Gorg bristle.

“Smek,” Lucy warned.

“Pffffft HAHAHA.”

Lucy pinned him with a look that shut him up faster than the Gorg’s own nasty glare. “I don’t know what you did to make him that angry,” she scolded, “but you're going to apologize right now. Tell him that you're sorry!”

Suddenly Smek had a problem with lying. He squirmed. “But—”

“JUST SAY IT.”

She couldn’t tell when his groaning whine ended and his Gorgspeak began. By the amount of gesturing Smek did, it seemed more like a long-winded explanation than anything along the lines of a genuine apology. But whatever he said managed to ease the Gorg’s bristling posture into something less animalistic.

“Okay,” Lucy sighed, “tell him that I apologize for biting him. And tell him I can babysit.”

Smek gave her an odd look but translated. He asked, “You are watching the Gorglings?”

“Oh, right, tell him I can do that too.”

He got a couple Gorg words in before her meaning caught up and he flushed red. “Hey-now,” he snapped.

All his snark miraculously vanished when K-Trong lurched forward. Smek yelped and ducked behind Lucy’s legs. The Gorg said something low and hardly distinguishable from an animal’s deep-throated growl. Then he turned and plodded off, returning to his task of putting an unreasonable mischief-maker to bed, and leaving Lucy to deal with her own.

“Are you needing me to translate?” the Boov squeaked.

“No, that was pretty universal,” Lucy sighed. “Please make a better effort to get along with his kids. I really need you to behave.” 

It was like lecturing a younger Tip, back when she was in the single-digits with no emotional regulation to speak of. Those were the days Lucy never got a break from parenting. But now that the worst of the alien drama was settled, she was more than ready to have some adult time to herself.

Lucy gathered up the blankets that she’d had to abandon earlier. Smek hovered near her side, scanning anxiously for K-Trong’s return. 

“Okay,” she said, “I’m just gonna sleep in Slushious tonight.”

The Boov ripped his eyes away from the invisible Gorg creeping in the shadows. “What about me?”

Smek looked down at the single blanket she dropped on the ground.

She wasn’t going to feel guilty.

He looked up at her. 

“I think we should be taking turns with the backseat,” Smek complained from the driver's side, glaring at her from the rear view mirror.

“I’ll say it again,” Lucy muttered. “The backseat is my space. I’m not above biting a second alien today, trust me.”

Chapter Text

It felt like a miracle.

Smek had escaped from the Gorg mothership. Boov were known for their efficiency at running away, but to elude their greatest enemy on his own territory should have been impossible. By all accounts of logical reasoning, at which the Boov were highly adept, he should've been south of the ground as soon as things dove in that direction. He should've been destroyed. But he had escaped.

It felt like a miracle.

Captain Smek assured every one of his inferiors on the Boov mothership that it was more than just that.

He was the best at running away. He had invented running away. There wasn’t another Boov on the entire mothership that could've pulled off such a spotless skedaddle. By escaping from the very belly of the beast, scaling its throat and leaping right out between its fangs, Smek had more than proved his competence as Captain. The fact that the peace meeting had ended so horribly was hardly a source of contempt. No proper Boov could expect the Gorg to be reasoned with. Everyone had expected the meeting to tilt sideways. The amazing thing was that their Captain had come rolling out of it in one piece.

After so long of ceaselessly criticizing their new leader, the Boov were finally willing to give Smek their unquestioned support. That much was clear during his very flashy address to the whole Boov nation. He’d recounted his heroically cowardly escape from the Gorg mothership. K-Trong had lunged across the table without warning, frothing at the mouth and ready to rip him to shreds! But he’d gotten away. And not just that! He’d taken a souvenir. Captain Smek had Taken something from the Takers. The Boov applauded him, doused him with their dazzled praise, and he glowed orange in the midst of their unabashed approval.

And so a total wreck of a meeting turned into something even better than interspecies peace: a great heaping ice cream sundae of a publicity stunt. All there was left to do was put the perfect little cherry on top, and he’d be cemented in history as the greatest Boov Captain to ever run screaming away. The Boov would do more than just praise him. Once he did this last thing for the Boov, this last thing against the Gorg that terrorized them for millennia, he'd be swimming in nothing less than godly worship. He'd be drowning in it.

Maybe that was why he was suddenly choking up.

“So what is it?” someone called, a particularly impatient soul at the front of the crowd.

All eyes, millions of them, honed in on the display rod attached to the floor in front of them. Or rather, the strange little rock sitting on top of it. It was the relic their Captain had stolen from the Gorg. He’d purposely molded the grandeur of his great performance to lead up to this very moment. With his tale of great peril, combined with flashy lights and effects and a perfectly nimble show-persona, Smek had led them to the precipice of the final act. They leaned forward with bated breath to finally learn what this stolen relic was. Nobody knew how a little rock could hold such great importance to the Gorg.

Nobody, except for Captain Smek.

He’d snagged the rock rather unintentionally during his mad sprint out of the mothership. Then he’d held onto it without thought and stuffed it in his vest pocket. The day following the failed peace meeting he’d been tucked away in the Captain’s quarters, shivering and cowering and barring anyone else from entering. He didn’t rediscover his stolen token until he did a little pat-down to double check he was alive. A lump in his vest caught his attention and he withdrew the rock. He investigated it closely, and eventually, he discovered something. He discovered about a thousand little somethings, tiny and pink and held in stasis inside the egg.

That’s what it was, after all: a Gorg egg. The Gorg egg. Every generation of the vicious planet-conquerors and bounty-hunters was delivered from a single source. The Boov didn’t even realize the opportunity represented in the Captain’s souvenir that he flaunted in front of him. But he was sure to tell them. He would let everyone see for themselves that their Captain, who they’d judged so relentlessly, held the fate of the whole Gorg species in his hand. 

They'd demand for the egg to be erased, of course. It was all part of the show. Captain Smek would really be the stuff of legends then! The Boov who ended countless years of fueding and fear. Not by conducting a succesful peace meeting, but by destroying their enemy’s precious future. Erasing it without a trace. He’d be endlessly worshipped in a future paved only for the Boov. 

It was everything he’d ever wanted. And it was right within his reach. But maybe Captain Smek had gotten too good at running away. Because now it was time to make that final step toward something, toward the future of his dreams, toward the pinnacle of his greatest desires. And all he could do was stumble in place.

“W-well, here’s the really crazy thing! You’re not even going to believe it!” Smek laughed and winced and tugged at the collar of his vest. He jammed a thumb at the Gorg egg. “It looks like a regular old rock, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah?” a Boov said. It was the same guy as before, an unusually outspoken individual who could feel his eyes straining for every second he had to look away from his tablet. “So is it just a regular old rock?” he asked, exasperated.

A couple Boov officers crept forward to handle the agitator. Smek raised his scepter to halt them, then played it off with a twirl of the staff. 

“Of course not,” Smek chuffed with a plastered-on grin. He could feel his grand performance crumbling around him, but he was loath to put a nick in his charismatic persona as Captain. “I has taken something from the nasty Gorg that cannot be replaced, replicated, reborn—” he flinched at that last word, then floundered, “or, you know, remade in any way!”

“Can you show us what it is then?” the Boov grouched. “Or can I see for myself?”

“Ehhh, I will show everyone, just—”

Then the Boov broke from the crowd, leaving millions of gasping onlookers in his wake, and approached the souvenir that dared to be worth his time. Smek blanched. After months of hiding away in quarters, this was his first time dealing with the Boov public face-to-face. He never considered that, out of millions of obedient Boov, even one could give him any trouble. All his preparations hinged on the assumption that everyone would be silent and obedient for their great Captain. Now Smek could feel his costume of a confident leader being stripped away, layer by layer, with every step of the dissenter. The Boov was approaching the Gorg egg, and Smek didn’t know what a truly great Captain would do to stop him.

All he had to fall back on was what he would do, the young Boov who wheezed and staggered under the amount of responsibility thrust on his shoulders. So when the Boov from the crowd reached for the egg, Smek lunged forward with a startled cry and pried the display rod off the floor. The Captain’s scepter clattered loudly where he’d abandoned it on the ground. He clutched the rod and its precious attachment close to his vest. Yellow rippled over his body when the astonished looks of the crowd narrowed to scrutiny. Smek didn’t need to glance at the rest of the Boov to know what they were thinking. The agitator standing right in front of him was a proper magnifying glass, taking every ounce of judgement from his peers and putting it on full display for the Captain to see.

“You are not going to show us the great relic of the Gorg, then?” the Boov sneered. 

Smek was nearly cowering in front of him, at a loss of what to do. He briefly glanced at his officers. They were standing by, poised to launch into action the moment he gave the word. But calling in backup would be a waving white flag on its own. He still wanted to show he could handle his role as leader. Even while some random Boov from the crowd acted like he owned the entire mothership.

“I—well,” Smek spluttered, “it is not so simple…”

The most frustrating part was that it was that simple. All he had to do was open the egg and show everyone the tiny little Gorglings swimming inside. Smek knew it was that easy. The agitator also seemed to know just how easy it was. 

“It is not so complicated,” he scoffed. “The Great Captain Smek is not so great if he cannot figure out how to hand something over! Just let me show you!”

Captain Smek’s dream had devolved into his greatest nightmare. Although perhaps there would be a better way to put it. In his nightmares, like so many of his waking hours, Smek was terrified. Now, as a Boov reached for the egg and spit in the face of his authority, something in him snapped. He wasn’t afraid. He was furious. 

The Boov had never seen their new Captain flush such a blazing shade of red. They never expected him to rear back the display rod, and then bring it down with the force of an alien much larger than him:

“SHUSH!!!”

The Gorg’s relic smashed the top of the agitator’s head, and the Boov briefly toppled in an unconscious heap to the floor. The crowd gasped in astonishment. They looked from the crumpled Boov to their red-colored leader who still heaved from emotion. Smek’s skin briefly switched to yellow when he gasped and examined the relic for damage. He sighed, then jolted a little when he noticed the millions of eyes still fixated on him. He straightened in his vest. For a second the whole crowd of Boov only saw their prior Captain standing in front of them. Cold and decisive in the moments he wasn’t red-hot with fury. 

Then the Captain’s serious look split into a cocky smile. He held the display rod and its egg attachment out in front of him. The old scepter, passed down through hundreds of generations, was abandoned and forgotten on the floor behind him.

“I present to you,” Smek announced, “the Shusher.” He braced the bottom of his new scepter on the unconscious Boov in front of him. He leaned forward casually. “So,” he grinned, “Any more comments?”

There were rare moments when silence rang more beautifully than applause.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Smek allowed himself to wonder why he hadn’t erased the Gorg egg.

One way he justified it was by making sure the little Gorglings paid their rent in full. The egg, which he’d taken to calling the Shusher, was a handy tool for shutting down agitators like the first one he’d dealt with. It was a remarkably sturdy little thing that never showed signs of wear. And the Gorglings, who he’d peek at inside the privacy of his quarters, were never anything less than content in the comfort of their pink-misted stasis.

He never let the Shusher leave his side, never let any Boov so much as lay a finger on it. It was a relic of his first great achievement as Captain, of course! It was only natural for him to be a bit protective. And if he clutched the Shusher to his vest while he slept—well, that was natural, secular affection for a priceless trophy! Nothing less, but also nothing more. Most days when he questioned the presence of the Gorg egg in his grasp, and the thousand enemies that it represented, it was easy enough to explain it to himself.

Other days, in tiny flecks of time, Smek wondered why he lied even to himself. He really didn’t know why he spared the Gorg’s next generation of bloodthirsty little monsters. He didn't know why he turned down a future of endless worship. It was always too uncomfortable to wonder about for long. Usually he was able to shove it down far enough that it churned in his stomach and he could name it bad Koobish.

But now, there was very little he could do to shove that question away. Because it had grown thousands of legs, thousands of teeth, thousands of glowing yellow eyes—and it was actively trying to gnaw him to bits. Now that was something he could finally be sure of. In spite of the human actively trying to convince him he was just being “over dramatic”.

“They just want to play!” Lucy promised. She glanced down at the blue-colored Gorgling chewing on the leg of her leather suit. “They’re just…teething,” she winced.

Smek’s glaring eyes were barely visible above the pool of water he’d stationed himself in. The Gorglings skittered and whined around the perimeter, curious about their strange new playmate but instinctually wary of water. The pond was the only good thing to come out of the simulatory game that Lucy had programmed. With some instruction from K-Trong, she’d managed to make a low-res, green-tinted digital layout of a planetary surface. In practical terms, the gigantic simulation room prepared Gorg for future intergalactic conquests. Right now, it gave countless Gorglings room to run wild.

They ran so fast Smek almost had to give them credit for it. Of course, as Gorg they would never have to run away from anyone. Such a skill would be better off given to something else. Like whatever that pixelated six-legged creature was, the one that—

Before Smek could even get a proper look, a tidal wave of Gorglings fell upon the poorly rendered creature and ripped it into a million pixelated cubes. Lucy groaned and finally detached the blue Gorgling from her leg. It scuttled off rather cutely, than jumped into the air and chomped on a cuter butterfly.

“Okay,” Lucy relented, approaching the pool, “they are a little freaky.” She stepped foot in the pond and then hopped back. “Oh! That is actually water,” she said.

“Yes,” Smek said, rising up from the pool a fraction. “Gorg must learn of their great enemy, hydrogen dioxide. They cannot swim. Just like humanspeople,” he smirked. “Just another way in which Boov are superior to all. We can hold our breath for many hours.”

“Right, you're amphibious, aren’t you?” Lucy said. “But you're not the only one here who can swim. I’m from Barbados, you know!”

“Barbados?” Smek muttered. “I thought you were from Earth—” he gasped in offense when Lucy jumped into the water. “Impossible!” Smek cried. He threw a splashy little tantrum when the human swam nearer. “The pamphlet said—”

He coughed and spluttered when a hostile splash of water hit his face.

“I don’t even want to hear about that pamphlet you made,” Lucy grouched. She peeled limp strands of hair away from her face. “Oh already told me about it. Do you really think you can turn billions of people into a single fact-sheet?”

“I can to turn you into a fact-sheet,” Smek replied, a uniquely Boov insult if Lucy had ever heard one.

“And what about that video you showed before the big invasion?” she huffed. “Of all the people you could have used to represent humanity, you chose a baby? Why not—I don’t know, Jennifer López? Or at least someone fully developed!”

“For most fully developed species, cranium size is positively proportional to body weight,” Smek explained. “It is not my fault grown humanspeople have freakishly small heads.” He chuckled when he thought of an incredibly intelligent, nuanced insult: “It means you are dumb.”

He barely had time to shriek before Lucy dunked him. She reveled in her revenge until the obvious culprit snagged her ankle. A rush of bubbles marked the propulsion of air out of his nostricles, and she gulped a breath before getting dragged under the water.

* * *

Lucy had grown up on the beach of Barbados with a roughhousing older sister, which at times felt like a survival experience, but it came with some useful skills. Including, apparently, the lung capacity for underwater wrestling with a petty alien foe. She got in a few good nostricle-tugs before she had to break for air.

Lucy caught her breath at the edge of the pool. She rested her elbows on the cold floor beyond the water’s edge and pulled damp strands of hair away her eyes. She was met with the face of a familiar Gorgling, the one in a burnt-orange mechsuit who’d taken a special liking to its father’s human friend. But its mischievous disposition was gone, replaced with a growing nervousness marked by a whining growl.

“It’s okay,” Lucy gasped, still a little short on air. “We weren’t fighting…Actually, we were, but—”

That was all she managed to say before Smek burst from behind her like a breaching shark, shouting and hooking his arms around her neck. “BOOV SUPREMACY!”

Then all his weight dragged her backwards, and all Lucy could do was hope those weren’t the last stupid words she was fated to hear. They sank down through the water, and Smek had just let her go when a third body crashed into the pool. Lucy’s lungs were still burning and it felt like her chest was going to explode. She could only briefly reach for the rapidly sinking, thrashing Gorgling before she had to scramble to reach the surface. Her head was barely out of the water before she instinctually gasped for breath.

“No!” Lucy choked. She only allowed herself a couple breaths before she dove back under. But her lungs were straining and she couldn’t move her body the way she needed to. The water seemed to pit itself against her, pushing back against her chest instead of letting her cut through. She broke for air again, feeling as flailing and helpless as the Gorg sinking below her. “No!” she cried. “Please!”

She didn’t know who she was wailing to. Never in her life had Lucy ever expected any help from the universe. Getting dragged through the terrifying abyss of space only clarified just how tiny she really was. Even now she didn’t expect a favor. So she didn't understand how the Gorgling suddenly burst from the pool’s surface. She didn’t try to, she just grabbed the small creature and lunged for solid ground.

“Thank you!” Lucy cried. She sat just beyond the pool and wrapped the squirming Gorgling in a tight hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“Uh huh, yes, you are welcoming,” Smek replied a little snottily from the water. “You would be a better babysitter if you sat on the baby.” He wrung water from his nostricles, then paused at the look Lucy gave him. “What-now?”

“You?” she gawked. “You saved a Gorgling?”

“Ah,” Smek blanched like he just connected those dots himself. Just as fast his surprise turned to offense. “Don’t act so surprised! I would argue it's not even the first time,” he snapped. “But enough about that! Someone needs to teach this brat that it can’t swim.”

“He wasn’t trying to swim,” Lucy replied. “He was trying to help me. He thought I was being attacked.”

“Ha!” Smek scoffed. “A Boov attacking! What a notion! That is a confused little Gorgling, no wonder it was being so nastiness when I…” he froze, then, and stared at his palm. “Oh no,” he said, and his skin drained to white.

The Gorgling hid a little sheepishly in Lucy’s hold and whined.

“What is it?” Lucy asked.

“The integrity of my perfect Boov skin has been compromised!” Smek wailed, thrusting out his hand like it was a separate alien creature. “I have…a scratch!!” His eyes rolled and he went faint, sinking into the water like a damaged toy boat.

Lucy took a moment to appreciate the froth of bubbles accompanying the Boov’s slow descent to the bottom of the pool. She figured some aliens just required specific attention. The Gorglings had gotten enough from her already; they were slowing down, and less enthusiastic in the vicious murder of unsuspecting pixelated creatures. Now would be a good time to put them to bed for nap-time. Then she could focus on a certain melodramatic Boov.

She found herself regarding Smek with a smile. Which was odd, to put it lightly. He certainly wasn’t her favorite person. But he’d caught her off guard—caught himself off guard, by how it looked. The notoriously self-absorbed Boov had spared a moment of his time for somebody else. She figured she could do one last thing for her temporary alien companion, before they returned to New Boovworld and never saw each other again. There was a first-aid kit in Slushious. Lucy could spare a minute to mending his little cut.

After thirteen years of being the mother of her daughter—and several months of being a mother to a very accident-prone alien—Lucy was pretty confident she could handle just about any injury. But some things settle beyond the skin, and they fester until they’re uncovered. Slushious had been the cradle of such secret pains during the days of the invasion. Now, like then, the car would be the place where hidden wounds were finally revealed. And one thing would be for certain: the first-aid kit Lucy had overstocked was still shamefully unprepared.

Chapter Text

“Let me just get this straight,” Lucy said. Her voice wavered with emotion. Grief, anger, fear; she had a whole buffet of emotion, and it was almost too much to swallow. “A couple days ago, the Boov showed up without any warning and abducted nearly every single human being on the planet. Everybody is trapped in a ridiculous ‘Humanstown’ just like this one.”

“Happy Humanstown,” the Boov corrected boredly. “Other-the-wise, yes, all correct.” He stood behind the Ask a Boov stand and traced circles on the counter.

They were at the very center of the Happy Humanstown, in the middle of the round courtyard. Hundreds of people milled around the outskirts and watched the interaction from a far distance, too wary to get any closer. Lucy had been the first human to approach the Ask a Boov stand.

She continued; “And you said there’s a special database? One with the information and location of every single human that exists on Earth.”

“Smekland,” the attendant said. “But yes, we are having very sophisticated technologies for storage of valuable data. Every human accounted for.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Except for, like I already said, your spawn.”

“My daughter,” Lucy snapped. She splayed her hands on the counter and rocked forward on her feet. “She’s my daughter. And what are the odds, exactly, that she is the single human being whose location is unknown?” 

The Boov took a moment to think. “There are approximately seven point three-four-nine billion humans documented in the database.”

“So what does that tell me?”

“It tells you the odds that your Gratuity Tucci was not collected and taken to Happy Humanstown. One in seven point three-four-nine billion,” the Boov replied, shrugging. 

Lucy stared. She tried to wrap her head around the meaning of his words. A difficult thing to do, when she couldn’t even begin to wrap her head around the number. But if she understood correctly, the chances of the Boov completely missing a target for abduction were next to impossible. Their methods for securing and relocating every human being in existence were nearly perfect.

Next to, nearly. There existed that tiny little wedge of possibility, like a microscopic splinter, barely perceptible to the eye and unbearably irritating to whoever’s skin it got caught in. And of course it had to be her precious daughter, Gratuity Tucci, who was one in over seven billion. Of course it had to be Tip that was out there, alone in a world she’d never had to face by herself, on a planet overrun by otherworldly invaders.

The thought of her daughter, all by herself and afraid, was the perfect little mentos mint for all the inner turmoil Lucy had been trying to bottle up. It exploded in her chest and left no room for air, and she couldn’t breathe even when she tried. She leaned hard on the stand’s counter and pulled a hand through her hair, gasping until the panic settled into something she could finally breathe past. 

While she’d been fighting through a downward spiral of complete desperation, the Boov in front of her spiraled into complete boredom. He wasn’t interested in helping the human while she fell into distress in front of him. He’d done his job by providing the correct answers to her questions. Before he’d even started this job, he’d been warned that such primitive beings could have adverse reactions to new concepts like logic and efficiency. And he’d been both logical and efficient in the face of the human’s emotionally-driven questions. She’d survive—or she wouldn’t. Either way, his tablet had much better things to watch.

“Your question regarding the abouts-where of humanspawn Gratuity Tucci are answered to best of Boov ability,” he droned, scrolling past the online buzz regarding Captain Smek’s recent transmission. “Please step aside and allow room for other question-havers to—HEY!”

Apathy turned to concern at sickening speed when the human’s gross five-fingered hand covered the tablet screen. He glared at this creature that dared to get in between a Boov and their source of information. But as soon as he saw her face, he felt with no small amount of dread that he was the one getting in the way. And the glare in her eyes, one of fear mixed with deadly fury, was almost enough to bulldoze him flat.

“The Boov took me away from my daughter,” Lucy said. She clung onto his tablet while he weakly tried to tug it out of her grip. “Now you have to help me get her back.”

“But—how do you expect me to—” He yelped when Lucy pinned the tablet to the table, nearly pinching his fingers. 

“Search parties! Send out all the spare Boov so you can find her and bring her back to me!” 

“Not possible!” the Boov whined. “Every search party is busy! Every spare cop is already looking!”

“That can’t be true!” she cried. “Who else would they be looking for?”

“The maniac fugitive Boov!” he yawped, and it caught Lucy so off guard that she had to take a step back. The moment her hands were off the tablet, the Boov snatched it back up. He held it protectively against his vest, sighing in relief, then turned a solid yellow when he realized what he’d said. “I was ordered not to speak of that,” he whispered, wide-eyed and stiff.

This Ask a Boov attendant was exactly the kind of Boov Lucy had quickly learned to expect. Apathetic, unhelpful, dismissive of anything that wasn’t on their weird, round tablet screens. And, more than anything, they were obedient. The aliens were like mush in molds, one and the same, nearly thoughtless when it came to following the orders given to them. Lucy couldn’t even imagine how a Boov could have the personality to become an outlaw.

The fugitive had to be dangerous.

“You cannot to tell any other primitives—eh, people about the fugitive Boov,” the attendant said. He was really looking at her now, for the first time since she’d approached the Ask a Boov stand. 

Apparently the Boov only ever looked at something when they thought they had to be afraid of it. 

“It is Boov-only matter, no more than one human, you-human, knowing,” the Boov insisted. “I have answered all I can about where is the Gratuity Tucci! But I can answer one more question? Any other question you are having in exchange for secrecy!” 

He hoped she’d take the bait and forget about the fugitive. He probably thought she couldn’t even see the hook. Lucy knew she should ask about what kinds of danger the fugitive was creating for the Boov. As long as they shared the same planet, Boov trouble meant human trouble, too. But her daughter was missing, and her daughter was the only one whose safety she needed to guarantee. There was only one more question that she needed the answer to.

“The fugitive Boov,” she began, and the Boov flinched when she said it. “He’s out there, and his location is a mystery, just like my daughter’s location is a mystery.”

“That is…accurate,” the attendant replied carefully.

“If they’re both missing, then what are the odds that they’ll run into each other? That the dangerous fugitive could find my daughter?” A shiver touched her spine at the mere idea. 

The Boov furrowed his brows. “What are the odds that the one single missing human and the one single fugitive Boov run into each other?” 

He thought, rolling his eyes in a way that seemed a tiny bit more contemplative than it did demeaning. Then he looked at her. “I can put it in numbers terms or human-like-it-simple-and-dumb terms.”

Lucy balked. “Excuse me—?!”

“Putting into accounts situational, spatial, numeral probabilities, the odds are being one in eight hundred thirty seven point nine-six-four billion,” he explained. She might’ve gotten a dumb look on her face, because he didn’t waste time before saying, “It is impossible. Impossible, plus or minus one.”

So far that day, numbers hadn’t been doing Lucy any good. For hours she’d waded through a sea of faces made up of thousands of people, asking everyone she could if they’d seen her daughter, and all to no avail. Then she’d finally broken and approached the Ask a Boov stand, swallowing her fears that the rumors she’d overheard were right, that it was only a ploy to get rid of the humans that were too nosy. And then she was met with the nearly incomprehensible chances that her daughter should be the only human unaccounted for by the Boov. 

But the number that Lucy had just been introduced to—that number she could be friends with. Whoever that fugitive Boov was, whatever his intentions or capabilities were, the odds were pretty much impossible that he would run into Tip. And if she did run into one of the aliens, they would surely be an average Boov. They would follow their orders and bring her to a Happy Humanstown. Her location would be registered, and Lucy would finally be able to reunite with her.

“Thank you,” Lucy said. “I won’t tell anyone about the fugitive. And I’ll be back tomorrow to ask about my daughter.”

The ray of relief that had shone on the Boov’s face became overcast very quickly. “What? Tomorrow again? But—”

“She has to be found eventually. I’ll be visiting every day until then.”

“I hope the Gratuity is found soon,” he replied, and Lucy knew better than to take that as condolences.

The moment that she turned and headed out to continue her search, the attendant’s fingers turned into a blur on his tablet. He prepared a long-winded report detailing the human Lucy Tucci and her harassment, including the disrespectful handling of a Boov tablet and the repetitious questions regarding her missing humanspawn. He fired off the message, and right when he sighed and began to tuck away the tablet, it dinged with a reply.

He read the message, and his purple skin washed out into yellow. He peered into the sky, toward the Boov mothership from which the Captain had made that recent announcement, the one promising that the fugitive Boov’s broadcast was “being handled”. He glanced back down at the automated reply shining on his tablet’s screen. It was specially curated by the Captain himself.

BIGGER PROBLEMS!!!

—Captain Smek :)

“Uh oh,” the attendant whispered. He looked back up into the sky. Not at the Boov mothership this time, but into the space beyond. He didn’t realize that the human had paused at the end of the courtyard to glance back at him. 

Lucy watched the Boov while he looked at the sky. Really looked at it. 

“Uh oh,” she muttered. Then she shook her head. “Bigger problems…”

Uncertainty surrounded her from all directions. So many things could happen, and in so many ways. She soothed herself with the fact that the Boov species, as a whole, was too apathetic to be malicious. There was only one Boov that promised any danger to a human. But the attendant had already described the nearly impossible chances that the fugitive would ever stumble across her daughter. 

So in those moments when her chest got too tight, and her heart beat too fast, and horrible scenarios played out in her mind without respite—Lucy paused, and asked herself the question that had a solid, comforting answer.

What were the odds? 

Chapter Text

Lucy had lived through an alien invasion. In the time following that invasion she’d unofficially adopted one of the alien invaders. Every two weeks she hosted a party when aliens visited her Chicago apartment to drink motor oil out of martini glasses. And still, she hadn’t learned to fully appreciate the endless bounds of what was possible. 

The previous morning, when her kids had dragged her out of bed to put her in the back of Slushious, there were still plenty of things that Lucy would’ve put out of range for her future. Like, for example, venturing through K-Trong’s mothership trillions of miles away from Earth, with a Gorgling bouncing off the walls in front of her and the Boovs’ former Captain nearly glued to her side.

“You should has put that thing away with the others,” Smek complained. He scowled and stuck his injured hand deeper into his vest pocket.

Lucy replied, “Don’t think that I didn’t try. He never runs out of energy! I’m putting it to good use by letting him lead us to the boarding dock. At least the rest of his siblings were ready to take a nap…Hallelujah.”

Smek took a break from obsessively watching the Gorgling. He squinted up at her. “Hallelujah?” he echoed. “Boov do not say such a thing.”

“I guess you wouldn’t,” Lucy said. “Usually, it’s just another way of saying, Wow, that’s a relief! And I’m relieved the only out-of-control Gorgling we have to deal with is him. Until the others wake up, at least.” She thought for a moment, watching the orange blur take a hard roll and then keep on trucking. She smiled.

“He almost reminds me of Gratuity when she was a little girl,” she admitted. “Always running around and wanting to explore the world. Sometimes she’d get a bruise or a scrape, but she’d never be down for long. Nothing could get in the way of her adventures, and she got into so many adventures! I always took pictures so I could remember them all. I must have about a million silly photos of her on my phone. Oh, I should show you! But—” her smile dipped into a frown, “I left my phone on Earth.”

“Hallelujah,” Smek replied, and returned her sideways glare with a smirk.

“You know,” Lucy glowered, “if you’re going to be so dramatic about little injuries, it would be smart not to act like such a jerk.”

The Boov’s eyes nearly bugged with how hard he laughed. He patted Lucy’s arm like she needed either a reward or a special examination for that joke. “A human to tell me what is smart! That will be the day,” he chuckled.

“Humans aren’t as stupid as you think we are,” she shot back. “We have—we have nuclear reactors,” she said, thinking that might just impress him.

“Ah yes,” Smek replied, “reactors using the wasteful method of nuclear fission, because humanspeople are too slow on the roll to realize fusion is the superior form of nuclear transmutation. You’ll split an atom and call it a lightbulb moment, meanwhile the dwarf star you call the sun that’s constantly shining above your undersized heads is the manifestation of physical processes that release multiple times the energy of fission and without any of the radioactive nastiness! Really,” he chuffed, “how do you even tie the laces of your podwear?”

“One shoe at a time,” Lucy sighed.

Too often she let herself forget what every conversation with this guy turned into. Either a slap-and-go science lecture that left her vaguely impressed with his intelligence, or a whiny tantrum that left her greatly impressed he didn’t spend most of his time just sucking his thumb. 

He carried on chastising humans and Gorg and pretty much anything that didn’t have six pods, two nostricles and purple skin. Lucy gradually tuned him out, instead focusing on the Gorgling while it led them toward Slushious. Smek’s incessant insults blurred into the background, and it wasn’t enough to alert her when his voice pitched into a startled cry. Then he literally snagged her attention when he clung onto her arm for dear life. She sighed and turned her head, wondering how she was going to soothe a Boov that could cower in terror at his own reflection.

But it was her own wide-eyed reflection that made her freeze. There she was, like a ghost trapped in glass, and she faded when her eyes focused on the sight far beyond the mothership’s expansive window. Lucy hadn’t even noticed when they’d walked in front of the huge, triangular pane set into the wall of the corridor. She certainly hadn’t noticed when K-Trong piloted the mothership to an alien planet and parked them right outside of its atmosphere. And now she understood just what a “grocery run” meant for a planet-conquering species like the Gorg. Drones swarmed like a kicked hornet’s nest, and she watched the planet’s vibrant colors wither as organic materials were siphoned from its surface.

Until now, Lucy had let herself forget about her worries and dread. She focused on babysitting a thousand Gorglings and one Boov, each of which fought to be the bigger chore. And it was fun. K-Trong’s kids reminded her of her own daughter, feisty and energetic and stubborn. And Smek had gradually moved from a nuisance to a nuisance she could playfully spar with. When he looked down on her, she stood up for herself. In a weird kind of way, Smek and the Gorglings made her feel confident. They made her feel like she had some control.

Watching the Gorg effortlessly suck the life out of a planet reminded her that she had no control at all. That could have been Earth, if things had gone any differently. Lucy had been helpless to stop the Gorgship, then. Now, she was helpless to stop all the problems waiting for her at home. People wouldn’t stop coming to her door. They wouldn’t stop harassing her family. They wouldn’t stop blaming them for everything the Boov had done to the planet’s orbit. They wouldn’t let them live in the peace and safety that Lucy had worked so hard for. And what was she supposed to do to stop it?

“Beloved Captain Oh would still say that Gorg are not the Takers!” Smek whined. Then he noticed he was clinging onto the human’s arm, and he recoiled in disgust. “Don’t touch me!” he snapped. “Your Gorgsuit feels like Gorg! Yuck!”  He shuddered and wiped the grossness off his skin.

The human didn’t react to him. To the prior Captain-slash-celebrity, that was a terrible insult. He was right about to do the only reasonable thing and complain; that’s when the Gorgling approached from further up the corridor, crawling low and peering up at Lucy’s face. 

“Ah—Lucy Tucci!” Smek yelped, alarmed. He backed up and stuck his injured hand back into his vest pocket. “Lucy Tucci! The Gorgling—it is acting strangely! S-stay back,” he feebly demanded. “Shoo-now! Stop!”

He cringed when the Gorgling wrapped its tentacled arms around one of Lucy’s legs. But that managed to snap the human out of her strange spell, because her eyes finally moved from the awful sight beyond the window and down to the little alien hugging her leg. She breathed and picked the Gorgling up in her arms. It curled in her hold and stuck the head of its mechsuit under her chin. 

“Little guy must be tired,” Lucy reasoned. She hoped Smek didn’t notice the shakiness in her voice. The wave of dread brought with it all of her exhaustion, and she’d carried on the bad habit of forgetting to eat. Tip and Oh would be upset with her, they cared for her so much. A thought that brought her some comfort, kind of like the weight of the Gorgling curled in her arms. “Do you mind leading us the rest of the way to Slushious?” she asked Smek. “I could really use a soda right now. Or anything with sugar, I think my levels are low.”

The Boov scoffed. He walked ahead and gestured for Lucy to follow.

“So that is why you has been so insistent on returning to Slushious,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I should not have surprise. All you humanspeople are so dependent on your sugar.”

“I can’t argue with you much on that,” Lucy replied tiredly. “It makes us feel better. And I really need to feel better right now. Seeing that planet just now…”

Suddenly she remembered who she was talking to. It wasn’t like she could open up to him about her bad feelings. So when he paused and gave her an odd look, she ad-libbed, “It made me realize there’s a lot more life out there. A lot more livable planets, I mean. I thought those were rare.”

“Ha! Habitable planets are everywhere. You only need the brains to know where to look,” Smek replied smugly, carrying on his way. “I has even been to the planet outside.”

“…What?” Lucy said. She glanced over her shoulder at the window in the corridor behind them. She looked back at Smek, and couldn’t help the accusatory heat that flared in her voice. “Then why didn’t the Boov settle that one? Why did you—” Why did you have to come to Earth and ruin our perfect life?

“Well,” he chuffed, “habitable planet does not mean habitable for Boov! That one outside has killer Boov-eating earthworms. Or,” he shrugged, “it did. And Boov tried for finding many homes after that one.” He swung around and walked backwards so she could watch him tick off his fingers. “There was the predatory bird planet, the carnivorous unicorn planet, the lightning planet, darkness planet, killer robots planet, attacking squid planet—there was the planet that tried to eat us! The planet tried to eat us,” he emphasized, his face a mix of fear and frustration.

Lucy really wanted to be properly horrified by that, but she was still kind of caught on the carnivorous unicorns.

The Boov turned back around and led them around a corner. “And then,” he continued, “after so much searching on terrible planets, the Boov finally discovered the perfect one. The land had all the metals required for healthy Boov diet. The topography was livable. There were no awful Boov-eating predators. Even the weather was perfect,” he recalled nostalgically.

“Right,” Lucy groaned, “you found planet Earth. I already know that part of the story.”

“No,” he said matter-of-factly, “it was not Earth. It was a different planet, many trillions of light-years away.”

“Then…what was the reason?” Lucy asked, pinching her brows.

“Reason for what?”

“Why didn’t you stay on that planet? Why did you end up coming to Earth?”

“Ah,” Smek said. He turned a petulant red. “The most irritating thing. A giant asteroid struck the planet right in front of our eyes, right after we discovered it. Boom!” He mimicked the explosion with his hands. “Gone forever. Goodbye, new home. What awfulness! And after that we found planet Earth. And what a terrible mess that place turned into! I should has known from the name it would be bad. Earth. Earth. Sounds like a hairball. Its moon is the superior habitat. Far more crater fields, and tasty rocks, and—” Suddenly he realized there were no bipedal walking-sounds following behind him. He paused and turned around. “Lucy Tucci?”

The human in question had halted in place. 

“What is it?” Smek asked. He looked warily at the Gorgling in her arms. “Did it bite? Are there neurotoxins taking effect? How many fingers?” He held up a couple. “Wait, that’s too complicated a question isn’t it. Ehh, what is my name?”

“Are you serious?” Lucy whispered.

Smek blinked. “Serius? No. What? Actually, I know a guy named Serius. Always a downer, unsurprise. But how would you–”

“No,” Lucy shook her head. “I mean, how did that actually happen? A giant asteroid destroying a perfect planet, right when you were about to land on it? What…what are the odds of that?”

“Uck, I do not like to think of it. The probabilities are miniscule, but everything bad happens to me,” the Boov whined. “But to put it in a way you can understand, it is impossible. Impossible–”

“Plus or minus one,” Lucy said, dropping her gaze to the floor. 

“Yes,” he said, surprised. “Exactly that.”

“But it still happened. And the Boov still invaded Earth. Everything happened the way that it did.” 

Sometimes, it really did feel like the whole word was pitted against her.

For as little as they could relate to each other, Smek could certainly relate to that. He had a whole ocean of self-pity for the way things had turned out, and he did almost as much swimming as he did running.

”If only Boov never found Earthland,” he complained, continuing down the corridor. Lucy followed behind. “I would still be Captain of the Boov, beloved and celebrated by all. Oh would not make forbidden friendships with humanspeople Gratuity and Lucy Tucci, and I would not have been overthrowed. I would still be…the Boov would still…Things would be perfect,” he finished, letting his nostricles droop.

Lucy frowned. Things started to move differently in her head, memories and thoughts and feelings and facts, all like little pieces of a bigger puzzle. Before the picture had been ugly, disorganized, a mess of random occurrences.

None of the pieces had changed. But they were fitting together in a new way. And the picture was changing, piece by piece, step by step while she followed Smek toward Slushious. She was still trying to figure things out when they arrived on the boarding dock. 

Chapter Text

A swig of strawberry soda helped sharpen out a blurry, disorienting world. Sugar hit Lucy’s bloodstream with all the vibrant energy the neon strawberries painted on the can had promised. She tried to ignore how the closest thing to strawberry on the ingredient list was sodium benzoate. Or how Oh, a Boov, could eat the whole can and all its contents without getting sick. Not a very comforting thing when he routinely drank fabric softener without a problem and spent half a day hurling after taking a secret sip of orange juice.

She frowned and re-examined the ingredient list from where she sat on the hood of the car. Then she sighed and took another swig. It was probably the tastiest drink she’d ever had. Her daughter would call her a hypocrite for ever admitting that, of course.

Both her kids had been pretty excited when they discovered they could actually share a soda together. That excitement quickly turned to disappointment when Lucy forbade Tip from ever drinking another can of the stuff. But Tip, as much as she admired her mom, was still a teenager. So Lucy couldn’t be too surprised when she’d found a whole stash of neon strawberries in the empty wheel compartment of Slushious’ trunk. Now she knew where Oh got the idea to hide the air fresheners, the ones he said he could “quit at any time”. 

Finding her kids’ secret stashes reminded Lucy how Slushious was more their car than hers, at this point. She preferred to take public transit most days, and her kids were free to go where they pleased so long as they triple-swore to be safe. Many times they would fly over Lake Michigan and park over the water’s dark surface. She imagined them now, sitting together on the hood and sharing secret sodas together, telling stories and listening to their favorite songs on the radio. Oh would chew on a Pine Fresh and Tip would say he really needs to quit those. They’d laugh and goof around.

By now, Lucy had learned Slushious really was another member of the family. It saw laughs and smiles and good times. And, though she hadn’t personally witnessed it herself, Lucy knew it had seen her children through bad times as well. Moments when fights were had, and tears fell, and hidden vulnerabilities were finally uncovered. Through it all her kids had only gotten closer, their bond stronger, and their trust deeper.

Of course, Lucy tried to stay reasonable and not ascribe too much credit to a piece of machinery. But she couldn’t help but imagine the car missed Tip and Oh as much as she did.

Slushious would certainly choose them over the new interspecies tag-team it was forced to deal with. The cab jolted from the alien skittering around inside it and a spot of soda spilled onto Lucy’s Gorgsuit. She frowned and looked over at Smek, who was peering into the back window with a pleased smirk.

“Smek,” Lucy said, “let the Gorgling out of the car.”

“It jumped in there itself,” he replied. 

“That’s because he didn’t think you were gonna lock him in.”

“I did not know it would attack me for saving its high-density skin,” Smek argued.

Right, Lucy mused. That was why she’d brought them here, not just to drink fruit-flavored preservatives. She pulled the first-aid kit off the roof of the car, the one she’d grabbed from the trunk. Before doing anything else, she’d needed to clear the haze in her head with some sugar. Now she leafed through the overstocked bag and pulled out anything she might need. Plasters, tape, ointments and bloodstoppers—

How bad was that cut, anyway? The Boov hadn’t let her get a good look at it, yet. Now, as sneakily as she possibly could, Lucy tried to catch a glimpse. But Smek’s injured hand, the same one he’d just used to tauntingly tap the window, was suddenly in his vest pocket. By the time she even turned her head he was already looking at her with suspicion.

He was like Tip, or Oh, or even Pig. No matter how subtle she tried to be, they all caught on to her little ploys. Pig would take off under the couch if Lucy even looked at the vet date circled on the fridge calendar.

“What is that stuff?” Smek asked, glancing warily at the assortment of first-aid supplies that she’d set out.

“Well…it’s—”

Before she could awkwardly try and explain, the Gorgling finally managed to escape through the sunroof. It flew over the top of the car and right onto Smek’s head. Needless to say, that kept the Boov thoroughly occupied while Lucy finished finding what she needed. He shouted and rolled and repeatedly tossed the baby Gorg off, and all to no avail. It was determined to curl on his head, and when it learned to cling onto his raised nostricles, all hope was lost for the prior Captain.

He whined his frustrations, too distracted to question it when Lucy tapped the front hood of the car. He jumped onto the blanket she’d set out for him and slumped against the windshield.

“I shall sing the Boov Death Song,” he decided. 

“Absolutely not,” Lucy replied. “I’ve heard enough of that already.”

“But…I have not—”

“Oh sang the Death Song the first day Tip had to go to school. It was…an adjustment,” she put lightly.

Mentioning Oh managed to shift Smek’s mood. Instead of being sad and pouty, he was mad…and pouty. He scowled, and Lucy tried not to laugh at how ridiculous it looked with a Gorgling perched on top of his head. 

“Captain Oh and the humansgirl Gratuity Tucci,” he said with a curled lip. “My falling-down again and again.”

“Just save the flailing and wailing for another time, please. If you don’t stay still I won’t be able to help you with your hand. Can I see—”

“See what?” Smek asked like an accusation. And he knew perfectly what, seeing how he stuck his hand even further into his vest pocket. “What are you…”

Then he glanced down and noticed the supplies Lucy had set on the hood. His eyes got wider in time with his skin turning yellow. 

Lucy fumbled under his stare. “I’m not—it’s—Look,” she said, trying to regain some footing. “Believe it or not, I’m only trying to help you right now. But I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. You’re free to refuse, okay?”

He looked at her warily for a moment. She’d already accepted defeat when his skin turned yellow. She waited for him to hide or run away, or do anything other than place any faith in such a creature as a human. It hadn’t been in the cards for the Boov to actually hold his hand out toward her.

“Fine,” he huffed, “I will let the humansperson attempt to make things better.” Lucy figured that was just a version of the Boov Death Song in English. But she’d take it.

His skin was easing back to purple when she took his hand. It wouldn’t have been a far-off reaction for Smek to cringe or gag, but when she glanced at him he was just watching their hands with strange intensity. Most Boov she’d met at Oh’s parties would shudder and glare if she so much as brushed against them, so she was surprised he’d accepted her hold so quickly.

A sting-free cleansing wipe earned a hard flinch, but other than that, Smek was surprisingly still during the impromptu doctor’s appointment. A bit of antiseptic ointment and a Happy Mouse Kingdom bandage later, and the cut on his hand looked even more ridiculously non-serious than before. Lucy packed up a pile of supplies that hadn’t been needed, meanwhile Smek stared at the little dancing mouse like it might actually start doing a jig.

“Feel better?” Lucy asked, wiping her hands off on her suit like she’d actually done some hard work.

“It is…adequate,” Smek replied slowly. Lucy waited a moment for a thank you, then she realized what she was waiting for—or rather, who. She shook her head at herself.

Lucy tapped the hood of the car, making an idle little sound to jump-start a conversation that was already dead. “I’m going to relax inside the car for a bit, before the Gorglings wake up. That shouldn’t be too long from now,” she said regretfully. “You keep…babysitting.”

She glanced at the Gorgling sitting contentedly on his head, and saw a joke somewhere in there. But she was too tired for any more attempts at friendliness that would never be returned.

Lucy started to move past the hood, raising a hand to stifle a yawn. Her hand never made it to her mouth and the yawn was kicked right out of her system. Smek had nearly lunged to grab her arm.

“Wait!” he yelped.

So she waited, and he waited, until he realized that they were both waiting on him.

“Uhh…I only mean to say that…the bandage. It was applied…competently.”

Smek’s voice was oddly stilted and he nearly winced with every word. He spoke the way Lucy drove on neglected roads. Slowly, cautiously, and painfully aware of every uncomfortable bump. Still, he forced himself to continue, and Lucy listened in amazement.

“I was thinking that humanspeople had no knowledge of useful things. That you do not prepare for danger like the Boov know how. But…I learn new things,” he admitted.

Ever since they’d met, Lucy could feel the dramatic difference between herself and the Boov’s prior Captain. They were nothing alike, they had nothing in common. They were distant and unknown, and Smek had never tried to cross this distance. Lucy couldn’t say for certain that she had, either. But she would have bet on herself to be the one to try.

Now, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What she was watching. It almost seemed like Smek was building a bridge. Lucy almost felt like she was willing to cross it.

“Now I know that humans can be knowledgeable in such things. You can have preparations for trouble, a great quality belonging to Boov as well.” He shrugged, then, and a dismissive tone entered his voice, something like a joke. A joke that’s funny because it’s true. “It is especially impressive,” he grinned, “seeing how you humanspeople have no meaningful concept of fear.”

And right when the bridge promised to stretch over an immeasurable gap, Smek brought it right down into the river. The distance had never felt greater between them, and a Boov had never looked more like an alien. It took all of Lucy’s self-control to keep her composure, but she could hardly help it when she ripped her arm out of his grasp. The smile dropped right off of Smek’s face, and the confusion in his eyes could have made her feel guilty.

But all she felt was angry. Angry that he should be confused in the first place. Angry that he didn’t know. All this time she’d thought he’d known what he did to her, to everyone, and just didn’t care. Somehow that was better than what he’d just admitted to her face.

Lucy couldn’t tell what expression she was wearing, how scary or pathetic she looked in the grip of so much fury. Whatever look she had, it was enough to make the Gorgling finally leap off of Smek’s head. It whined and hid beneath the car like it was taking cover from a storm. And there was a storm, alright; Lucy was doing everything she could to dampen the lightning cloud in her chest.

Funny how Smek was lagging behind in his constant flee from danger. After all, he didn’t run away even when she willed him to. Even when she knew he really should, for both their sakes.

“I need some alone time,” she snapped, wrestling with her throat so she didn’t scream it in his face.

Smek’s nostricles dropped a fraction. “But—”

“Leave. Me. Alone,” she warned and he shrank in his vest.

Lucy shut herself in the backseat and locked the doors. She threw herself down on her back and covered her face with her hands, trying to remember to breathe, trying to forget how much she wanted to scream. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to hold it together forever. But right now, when everything else was completely out of her grasp, she herself was the only thing she could control.

She could do it if she really, really tried. But it required all her effort. Lucy wished there would’ve been some extra effort to spare, so she could have closed the sunroof before Smek thought to drop in. The cab shook when he landed in the front seat, and she could feel the heat of his eyes on her.

“You think you have to tell me to leave you alone?! All I want is to never see another foolish human like yourself, ever, ever again!” Smek cried. “I mean, I try to be nice to you! I give you a compliment, and this is how you react! You are even more backwards than I thought before.”

This wasn’t his usual watery whining. His voice had an edge, and he wanted every word to dig in. He wanted her to react. He wanted something, anything out of her. Because then Lucy would be giving him something after rejecting whatever he’d been offering before. She wouldn’t be completely denying everything that he stood for: self-absorption, and complete and utter disregard. 

He thought she didn’t know fear. People knew fear. Animals knew fear. At the very base of it, life knew fear. Now she knew she really was nothing to him.

Emotion moved around her like a hurricane. Anger and offense, and something adjacent to betrayal. The feelings only grew stronger when Smek scoffed and climbed into the backseat, forcing her to sit up, to accommodate him. That’s what he wanted the world to be. A big accommodation for him, and anyone else just didn’t matter. They didn’t matter to him at all.

“You don’t even have the brains to understand how grateful you should’ve been,” the Boov sneered. He eyed her with disgust, like he was the one trapped with her, and not the other way around. “I gave you everything in Happy Humanstown! The ice cream, the play places, the smiley-happy everything all day long! But all you did was harass and question and look for your lost humanspawn! You don’t know how to be happy,” he accused, “just like you don’t know when to be—”

“I’m scared all the time.”

Her voice sounded strangely calm to her ears. She looked at Smek, finally giving him some of the attention he’d been asking for. For an instant she questioned her grip on herself. She swore she’d spoken calmly, but by the expression he wore, she could have screamed it right in his face.

Still, she continued, dragging her gaze to the fists she clenched on her knees. “I was scared when I woke up trillions of miles away from my kids. I was scared when I fought the Sheps, and when Elrod attacked me, and when you tried to leave me behind. I was scared when the Boov invaded on Christmas. I was scared when the Boov…when you ripped me away from my daughter. I was scared even when I told her everything was going to be okay.” 

Her throat started to tighten, but she refused to let her body betray her like that. Finally she was saying everything she needed to, and the winds were dying around her. Without the anger, she just felt tired. But she wouldn’t rest until she’d said it all. 

“In the human camp…I was so scared, all the time. I thought I would never see my daughter again. You can’t understand it. But she was my whole world, Earth is just the thing underneath her. And you took her away from me. You would’ve never helped me get her back. Nobody cared enough to try. And when the Boov left, and the Gorgship showed up in the sky…I thought it was over. That I’d gotten her back for nothing. And even now…I’m scared. I’m always scared, Smek. And somehow, it always has to do with you.”

And there it was. The whole truth and all his crimes against her. She grit her teeth and waited for his reaction. He’d deny he’d done anything wrong and throw a petty tantrum. And she’d hold onto her dignity through it all. She’d take all he had to throw at her, and she wouldn’t stoop to his level. Even when he told her she was simple and stupid, just like every other human in existence.

She didn’t know how long they sat in silence, but eventually, inevitably, Smek spoke.

“I…the bandage. I thought you were different,” he said, accusational, demeaning, everything Lucy expected. “But…but you are just like everyone else!” he cried. 

Here it comes, Lucy thought bitterly. 

“You—you…” Suddenly, Smek’s voice pitched into a wail. “YOU HATE ME!”

Chapter Text

“…What?”

Lucy didn’t like how he’d managed to catch her off guard. She whipped her head to look at him, and the Boov she’d let herself imagine—red-colored and angry and with nostricles like bull-horns—was gone, replaced by dark blue skin and grieving eyes and nostricles dropped all the way down his back.

“You hate me!” Smek wailed. “You think I’m completely worthless!”

“What are you even—no,” Lucy said, catching herself. She hadn’t kept her composure for this long just to fall for one of his petty tactics. She stuck a finger right between his big, sad eyes. “You don’t get to make this about yourself! You don’t get to treat me like you treated the Boov when you were Captain! Like you’re the only one that matters!”

“But—but I was the only one that mattered!” he cried, digging his knuckles against his vest. “That is what Boov Captain is! Any other Boov could disappear forever and it wouldn’t make a difference! Every other Boov is entirely replaceable. But—but I was different! I was Captain,” he said, wide-eyed, staring at his hands like he might find the Shusher and all its authority gripped inside them.

The more this guy talked, the more Lucy realized just how awful he really was. She felt sick. “Think what you want about everyone else,” she said. “You’re not Captain anymore. You’re another among millions.”

Instead of crying or shouting, Smek looked at her with a strange sort of relief. A whisper of orange coursed over the blue. “So you understand,” he said, insistent that it was true. 

“Understand what?”

“You understand why I would have to try! Try to be Captain again! It is my title, given to me, belonging to me! I could has mattered again. And the Boov could to tell me every day! They could to tell me over and over, for the rest of their worthless lives. But now…I am just like them.”

Red tried to flare through the blue, but it drowned below something deeper.

“They wanted to erase me, even! Erase me, after everything I’d done for them! But Oh would not let them. Of course, he is too stupid to let them, Mister Sixty-Two. Oops, excuse me,” he waved his hands and a bitter smile flashed across his mouth, “I meant Mister Sixty-Three!”

By now Lucy was completely baffled. She had no idea what this Boov was talking about. 

“Smek,” she said, hesitantly reaching toward him.

“Stupid!” he cried.

“Hey,” she said, firmly, “don’t call me—”

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” he pulled his nostricles in front of his face, like they could somehow hide him from Lucy’s astonished gaze. Like he could block from view what he’d hidden for so long.

It was to no avail. Lucy could finally see everything. His walls hadn’t come down, but they’d overflown and all his resentment was crashing down around them. Lucy had always expected there was something beyond his self-absorbed exterior. In all honesty, she thought it was even more self-absorption.

But it was resentment. He resented himself, more than anyone else he’d ever looked down on, or abandoned, or tried to erase. He was drowning in his own self-hatred, and she knew he really didn’t deserve to be saved.

But it was never about what he deserved, and she already knew that, too.

“Smek,” she said, scooting closer, “you have to calm down, okay? I can help you, if you just—”

“You help me all the time,” Smek said, glaring between his nostricles, his skin still that dark shade of blue. It wasn’t even a thank you. Then he said, just as a fact, “I wouldn’t do the same for you.”

Lucy paused. Her shoulders slumped. She didn’t know what the game had been, or the battle. But despite her best efforts, Smek managed to win. Lucy was fully defeated. “Yeah,” she sighed, “I know.”

“Do you think I’m worthless?” Smek asked, and his nostricles sprang up when he let them go. He leaned forward and the blue finally started to fade. She didn’t know what answer he was expecting.

“…Yeah, sometimes. A little bit,” Lucy admitted. 

Smek laughed, then, bitter and demeaning. For a brief moment things almost felt back to normal between them. Lucy was relieved. Happy, even, when he said, “Then you really are simple and backwards, just as I said before.”

It was like they’d ridden a wild track just to wind up at the same starting place. Lucy could be grateful for that. They’d fall into their established routine and pretend like this fight—or, whatever this had been—never even happened.

“I’ve heard it all before,” she replied. “Simple and backwards, backwards and stupid. Because I don’t worship you like you want me to.” 

“No,” Smek shook his head, irritated. “Because you help me. You know I wouldn’t help you. You know I’m…” he scowled, “worthless. So why be wasting your time? You could be doing human things. Like—eating ice cream. Or being bad at math.”

He definitely didn’t mean it as a joke, but Lucy chuckled nonetheless. “Maybe you are a little worthless, sometimes. But,” she frowned. “There’s times when you feel scared and helpless. I know what that looks like…I know what that feels like. And no matter what anyone’s worth…I don’t want them to go through that. Not ever.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence, and it slowly began to occur to Lucy that the two of them really were in a different spot than before. She wasn’t completely certain of it until Smek’s next words.

“I could has done things differently…betterly,” he clarified. He stared at the seat below him, still pouting, and traced perfect circles on the fabric. “Y’know. For the invasion. Lucy and Gratuity Tucci could has stayed together. And…when the Gorgship arrived, I tell to the Gorg, take your kids back, do not thank me yet. The Gorg leave. Peace and happiness forever.” Smek glanced up at her, trying to find in her face if he’d said the right things.

The words I’m sorry were completely missing from his lexicon, it seemed. It didn’t matter. Even if he knew how to say sorry, or was even remotely capable of it, she wouldn’t want to hear it.

“To be honest, Smek. Even if I could…I don’t think I would change how things happened. In fact, I know I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“But—but that cannot be true!” he argued. “You said that—”

“Everything I said was the truth! I was scared. A lot of bad stuff happened. You did a lot of bad things, Smek. And things happened that were out of anyone’s control. But…I’ve been thinking about it. None of it made sense before. And now, it still doesn’t really make sense. But the way that everything worked out…all the bad and all the good. It needed to happen for Oh to finally find his home. For Tip to find her best friend. For our family to be together, like we are now. Like we should be,” she corrected.

“When it comes down to it. The odds of us finding each other, and becoming a family. It was impossible. But it happened. Almost like, I don’t know, like there was an invisible force, pulling us together all this time—”

Lucy stopped herself before she could go too far down that road. Despite everything the both of them had put out on their sleeves, she felt embarrassed to get philosophical right in front of Smek of all Boov. He was staring at her with knit brows.

“I know, I’m totally backwards…”

“It is true, actually,” Smek said. “There is an invisible force. I only have surprise that you know of it.”

“Know of what?” she asked, caught off guard. She squinted. “Are you…are you talking about fa—”

“It is a physical law relating to classical mechanics,” he explained.

As soon as she knew the word fate wasn’t about to come out of Smek’s mouth, the twisted-up word felt a little more normal. 

Smek continued; “Everything with mass warps the underlying fabric of the universe known as space-time and creates an invisible pull proportional to the product of the objects’ masses. Boov are calling it the Law of Inverse Proportions to Square Distances From Center. Simpletons just call it the Law of Universal Gravitation.”

“…I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing, Smek.”

“But we are!” the Boov insisted. He moved closer to her until they were sitting face-to-face in the back of Slushious. “Everything with mass attracting everything else with mass, no matter how far, or different, or small or big. Attraction just for existence. Everything wanting to be closer, everything pulled together, to the way it should be.”

“Pulled together by what, exactly?” Lucy asked, intrigued despite herself.

“Physics,” Smek replied. “To be more specifically, the forces of gravity. Pulling together the Tuccis and Oh. Me and you…” Lucy must have given him a look without realizing it, because he immediately turned darker around the face and waved his hand flippantly. “Everyone and everyone, since the moment of our conception, forever and always.”

Lucy hummed and let it all sink in. She didn’t know enough about math to know if it was all random, or if everything was predetermined from the beginning, events playing out like dominos arranged in a certain way. But whether so many things were random, or whether they were inevitable, set into motion from the beginning of the world—she was glad they’d happened the way they had.

She was happy the Boov invaded Earth, and that Oh found his family, and that they’d found him. She was even happy to be sitting in Slushious’ backseat, with Smek sitting right next to her. 

For a physics spiel, it had almost sounded a little sappy. Lucy was about to say as much. So Smek couldn’t appreciate the horror he’d been saved from when the Gorgling intervened and dove in through the sunroof.

“Ack! Get away!” Smek shouted, shoving at the Gorgling when it tried to crawl into the backseat. It scrambled over his arms and tripped face-first onto the cushion next to the Boov. He watched it warily when it curled contentedly on the seat. He still wasn’t convinced it didn’t want to curl similarly on his head. “This one does not quit,” he complained. “It will follow me forever!”

“Awww, he likes his Uncle Smek,” Lucy teased. “I think we should give him a name.”

“A name?” Smek asked incredulously.

“Yeah. I’ve heard from Oh that Gorg only earn their names when they grow older. But he’s special to us at this point,” she decided, reaching around Smek to pat the Gorgling’s head. “So what do you think? Any suggestions?”

He frowned. “This is ridiculous.”

“Okay. Well I was thinking a good name would be—”

“Julio,” Smek decided in an instant. Lucy couldn’t help the laugh that rocketed out of her chest. He pouted and glared. “What?” he snapped. “It is a name!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Lucy gasped, catching her breath. “I just wasn’t expecting—it’s just a very human name. I was expecting something like, I don’t know, Brig or Wurl! But, ehm, Julio it is.”

She grinned and resisted a very bad impulse to scoop both the aliens in a hug. But Smek was still fuming for her lack of respect for a very good name, and the final Gorgling had just fallen asleep.

Abruptly, her smile fell. Julio, after all this time, had finally fallen asleep. That could only mean one thing. A sound in the distance confirmed her fears. Kind of like a tidal wave, if the tidal wave was also a stampede, and the stampede was also hungry. And a little homicidal. His siblings were awake and ready to go. Smek heard them, too, and his skin turned yellow.

“Don’t worry,” Lucy groaned, “I’ll hold them off until K-Trong is ready to take care of them again. Until then, just stay in the car. And keep that alien from causing too much trouble, he’s got a knack for it.”

“You are telling me,” Smek muttered while he eyed the Gorgling laying next to him.

“I’m talking to Julio right now,” Lucy replied, and it was her turn to match a glare with a little smirk.

“Backwards human.”

“Worthless jerk.”

After they finished exchanging their affections, Lucy went off to bravely face the army of monsters searching for her in a far-off corridor. They would swarm her, and she’d realize just how terrible Gorg were and how much better Boov were in comparison. Especially Smek. 

She’d think he was actually pretty great company, despite all the bad things he’d done in the past. It would be annoying, really, just how much she liked him. And if Lucy came back, and the broken-down car she loved so much was good as new, and Smek told her that he was the one that fixed it—

He probably wouldn’t be able to fend off one of those gross human traditions of gratitude. What was it? A lug—a bug? Something nasty-sounding like that. Good thing that wasn’t going to happen. 

Smek thought about all of this in the seconds it took her to actually get out of the car. He watched her out the window as she walked away. 

Julio groaned and the mechsuit’s yellow eyes squinted open after a hand accidentally prodded him, four too many times.

“Oh no, you’re awake,” Smek said, feigning a whine. He looked at him seriously. 

“Did K-Trong ever teach you how to repair a cloning device for convenient restocking of limited slushy-fuel?”

Honestly, Lucy was just lucky he was bored.

Chapter Text

Senior Officer Shirl is one of the supporting cast of my Home fic, Forces of Gravity! While my personal sequel to the Dreamworks movie enters its final chapters, I would like to offer a special treat to anyone who has taken the time to read this work! To anyone who is presently reading this work-in-progress, thank you tremendously for your patience and support. This has definitely been a labor of love for a deeply cherished comfort movie of mine, and while I am unable to complete chapters as quickly as I would like due to irl stuff, everything I put out is made to the best of my ability and with all my affection for the story and its characters.

For the specials, let’s start out with the first recurring OC to appear in FOG. I am by no means an artist, but I gave it my best shot, and I hope you enjoy these illustrations and some fun facts! Expect to see more of these special chapters for the characters we don’t see in the movie!

Shirl is a longtime acquaintance-in-proximity of Kyle. They have known each other since Boov Cop Academy and she rose through the ranks faster than nearly any Boov before her. She is a loyal Boov that follows her orders without question, although she’s not unknown for a snarky comment. After being promoted to Senior Officer by President Kyle, she runs a tight ship with her inferiors and ensures peace and safety in New Boovworld. She is well familiar with a certain Boov reporter by the name of Hitch, who has a habit of hounding her for the juicy drama that comes with being the President’s most trusted officer. Shirl wears the usual cop’s textured vest, with a special hat to display her elevated status as Senior Officer.

Just like any other Boov, Shirl experiences moments of fear and apprehension. But what sets her apart from most is her bravery. She will put her natural self-preservation instincts aside to do what is required of her. She cares about being an efficient, reliable Boov. And, though she may be too proud to admit it, she cares about other life forms too.

Miscellaneous Info—

Species: Boov

Gender: Female

Age: 68 [or the equivalent of a 43 year old human, assuming a lifespan of 90 years. The average Boov lifespan is around 140 years!]

Dislikes: Cowardice among her peers, failure to do as expected, Disgraced Former Captain Smek, and Hitch

Likes: Her leisure minute, the sky as seen from Earth, relaxed human music, and President Kyle

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good

Contenders for the next special— Hitch and Julio!

Next chapter—yes, a real chapter!—coming soon.

Chapter Text

There were a lot of things that Smek wanted. He devoted a lot of his time to thinking about what he wanted, and wishing he had what he wanted, and plotting to get what he wanted. Not long ago at all, he’d had the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted more than anything at all. 

Ever since the fugitive Oh and the traitorous mid-level traffic cop, Kyle, literally knocked him out of his title of Captain, Smek had wanted his old life back. One of admiration and importance and applause. He just wanted to be treated like the pinnacle of the Boov species’ entire existence. Was that really too much to ask for?

Apparently it was. He had a bad habit of underestimating the humansgirl Gratuity Tucci. At the Great Antenna he’d underestimated her height, then her cleverness. At the Common Dome he’d underestimated her protectiveness of her best friend. More than that, he’d underestimated a teenager’s ability to strike a nerve. And she’d been able to jab every soft spot on Smek’s ego, to even greater effect than either of them would have anticipated. 

Smek hadn’t even realized what he’d done until the human was all but crumpled on the ground in front of him. He’d Shushed the Captain’s best friend, a human with a non-cartilaginous skull, and for a brief moment he and Gratuity shared that look of slack-faced shock that follows a horrible blow. For Smek, it was the realization that he’d just made a terrible mistake, and that he’d have to do more running than ever before to escape the consequences.

After avoiding capture by Senior Officer Shirl and fleeing New Boovworld, Smek had wanted to stare out Slushious’ window and space out, pretty literally. But even that had to be ruined when a fully grown human suddenly reared up from the backseat, emerging from where she’d been sleeping below her blankets. The inconvenient detour to get the human ice cream and find a different ride for his fugitive travels only resulted in more things that Smek did not want. Terror and danger and all those things a Boov should devote themself to fleeing from.

Right now, Smek had to deal with the ugly reality that he couldn’t even get his most basic wants. After all.

“Is it beyond your inferior Gorg capabilities to hold a flashlight steady for one single second?”

The prior Captain was jammed below Slushious’ undercarriage and doing the Boov equivalent of car maintenance repair. Which involved a hyper-advanced understanding of mechanical mathematics the likes of which the most intelligent human could not ever hope to achieve. While he was doing all that hard work, the Gorgling’s only job was to hold the flashlight still. Smek had equipped him with the Boov equivalent of a flashlight taped to the top of his head. Which—was actually just a flashlight taped to the top of his head. But the light kept skewing away towards the floor.

“For the love of all things cowardly…” Smek squinted through the darkness and relied on memory to finish the wiring. But if the nacho blaster overheated into a plasma gun and the air conditioner was a bit warmer than preferred by weird endothermic mammals, that was no fault of his. The only one to blame was the Gorgling nodding off on the floor across from him.

With the final touches of Slushious’ repairs complete, Smek pulled himself out from under the car. He wiped off his vest and glared at Julio, who laid in a sleepy, orange sprawl on the ground. Smek pulled the flashlight off his head, and the sharp glare of the light in the mechsuit’s face finally made the Gorgling stir. 

“Enjoying your napping?” the Boov grouched. “Meanwhile I am trying to guess what wire is red and what is blue! I don’t know about the Gorg, but Boov cannot to see in the dark! I only gave you the one simple, simple job, but you are too lazy to even—hey, hold on now, what are you doing?”

Julio stretched and then stood up on his hind legs, looking very much like a miniature of his father. Until now the Gorgling had been content to stay on all fours. He’d also been content to keep his true form hidden away behind the mechsuit, but suddenly the mask’s appendages were peeling open like a flower in bloom. Smek turned yellow around the face and thought about how he should run. A strange thought for him to have, actually, because usually he’d already be running. 

But he stayed in place. A mix of curiosity and horror made an effective glue-trap, along with the ridiculous notion that this Gorgling probably wasn’t about to attack him. So he was able to watch in awe when the mask opened to reveal a much smaller, cuter creature than the intimidating mechsuit that it piloted.

Julio was tiny, small enough to fit in the palm of a Boov’s hand. Something that only fully processed when the Gorgling crawled forward and took the stupid bet that Smek would catch him should he jump. Which, Smek did, letting the flashlight clatter to the floor. But still. It was a stupid bet to make, and Smek hoped his scrutinizing judgment managed to wiggle through all the embarrassing orange spreading across his face.

The Gorglings had matured a lot in the months that they’d been out of stasis; their larval bodies had developed into the five-legged starfish form. But Julio still looked as innocent as he and all his siblings had in stasis. Smek held the baby Gorg closer to his face, looking into the strange diamond-shaped pupils that blinked sluggishly back at him.

Julio smiled and it suddenly occurred to Smek that the Gorgling was getting away with something.

“No–no, I am still very angry at what a lazy little brat you are,” the Boov said. “How are you going to be the conqueror of many planets if you cannot even hold a flashlight? Hmmm? Will you overpower enemies with an adorable face? It may work,” he relented. Orange spread on his face again. It was a hard spell to break. His willpower wasn’t nearly strong enough.

Fortunately, the sound of approaching voices was enough to clear away most of the warm, fuzzy feelings. Smek jolted and put Julio back in his mask, forcibly shutting the petal-like appendages before the Gorgling could properly hit him with the sad eyes. He didn’t need K-Trong getting the wrong idea about seeing his spawn clutched in his enemy’s hands. He especially didn’t need whatever assumptions that Lucy would come up with. She might think he was being affectionate or something equally distasteful.

Smek bounced nervously on his pods when the only other adults occupying the Gorgship walked into view.

“...all played out, they should be ready to nap for a while so you can have a longer break to yourself. There was a pretty bad tussle between Lavender and Blue, and I know there are a lot of blue Gorglings but you’ll be able to notice the one with part of an arm chewed off his mechsuit. I checked on him after I broke up the fight and he didn’t seem to be in any pain, but at the same time your kids are perpetually kind of crazy with adrenaline so maybe you should check on him again after we leave. But other than that everyone is in good shape! Everybody is sleeping, and…”

Lucy trailed off and gave K-Trong a doubtful look. “You can’t understand any of this, can you?”

The Gorg didn’t reply. His glowing yellow eyes were fixed on Julio, and the Gorgspeak that he called only served to bring Julio skittering away from his old enemy. The Gorgling offered Smek one last glance before grudgingly running off to join his siblings. Smek raised his hand in a wave, then wilted and awkwardly brushed his vest under K-Trong’s glare. 

“Hey, Smek,” Lucy called, jogging lightly forward. “Do you think that you can translate…” She paused. The two aliens were in a silent standoff while she gazed in amazement at the car. “Did you…Did you fix up Slushious?” she asked.

“Yes–” Smek’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. He finally averted his eyes away from K-Trong’s, which had been sucking in his attention like a vicious black hole. He looked at the floor instead. “The horrible abomination of human and Boov technology is back to its usual state. You are welcoming,” he said, trying to sound normal.

But the Gorg’s terrifying presence felt like a million thorns nettling his fear response, and when the human lunged in his peripheral, he couldn’t help flinching and yelping.

Immediately Lucy stepped back, and she looked painfully apologetic when Smek ducked beside the grill. “Sorry, I was just going to give you a hug,” she explained. “I should’ve known better. But…thank you a lot for fixing my car. Even if you were probably about to escape with it,” she smiled, half-teasing.

“I-I wasn’t…” the yellow faded from Smek’s skin and he eased back around the car.

A strange disappointment overshadowed his fear. She’d tried to hug him, and—despite how gross that gesture of gratitude was. Hadn’t he earned it? But he sabotaged it. And he’d fixed up Slushious for her. Mostly out of boredom, sure, but it was also a gesture of—of, something adjacent to positive regard! But she already assumed he’d done it for himself. When had he sabotaged that?

“You has the wrong idea!” Smek insisted. “I am ready to return to New Boovworld. Mayhaps I can reason with Captain Oh, to avoid terrible punishment for—stealing Slushious,” he winced. “There are only worse things for me beyond Earthland’s solar system. Sheps and Gorg and…” Aloneliness, he thought, privately, and remembered the warm feeling of Julio in his hands. He looked at Lucy. “And humanspeople hiding in the backseat, making awful snoring noises.”

Lucy laughed and scrubbed her eyes. “Hey, I was tired…”

She looked tired, then, Smek realized. He too had darker color around his eyes, but it was a natural pigmentation quality of his skin. The darkness around her eyes, standing out against her brown skin, hardly looked healthy, or even natural. 

“Speaking of,” she said, pulling Slushious’ keys out of her pocket. “I think it’s time for us to go home, to our own beds. We can make the rest of the drive by ourselves. K-Trong shouldn’t get too close to Earth, seeing the mothership again could trigger unpleasant memories for lots of people. Do you mind telling him?”

He nervously regarded K-Trong, who’d been way too quiet and way too still, in the same awful way he’d been at the peace meeting. The Gorg was like a dark corner, all mystery and terrible potentiality shrouding a pair of glowing eyes. Smek cleared his throat.

In Gorgspeak, he said, “Lucy Tucci and I will be leaving now, so there is no need to get any closer to Earthland. The humans may not be ecstatic to see the Gorgship a second time.” 

“I hardly did more damage than the Boov mothership,” K-Trong replied bitterly. He looked at Lucy. “But I will respect the human’s wishes. She has done a great service for me and my children. Her parental care is admirable, unknown to myself and all the Gorg that were before me. I will strive to provide similar patience and compassion to the future generation. Although…it is not my strong suit,” he admitted.

“I only noticed after the first couple of exploded planets,” Smek muttered, maybe a little too loudly and in the wrong language, because K-Trong’s sharp glare returned and he had to duck halfway behind Lucy.

There were all sorts of nasty things K-Trong had in mind to say. Instead he said, “Tell Lucy Tucci that she has my deepest thanks. Caring for my children is no small feat. She has my gratitude forever.”

“What did he say?” Lucy asked. She swore that she heard her name among all the weird Gorgspeak.

“He says thanks for babysitting,” Smek translated rather flippantly. “Although when you think of it, I am deserving of more praise, because I babysat the Gorglings for many years inside the Shusher.”

Lucy put her hand on his shoulder. “Hey Smek?”

He blinked. “Yes?”

“Don’t repeat that in Gorgspeak, I won’t be able to save you.”

He frowned and turned a little yellow. “Not untrue.”

The human sighed and shook her head. She reached to open the driver side door, but Smek’s hand covered the grab handle. She glanced at him, bewildered.

“I am thinking…maybe I should be driving,” Smek said, then waved his hands when her eyes immediately narrowed. “It’s not a trick! I’m only suggesting a favor. After all, you appear to have less than the ideal amount of sleeping-time. Can you give me the keys?”

Suspicion pooled over the wary exhaustion in Lucy’s eyes. She’d brought the keys to her chest as though he might try and grab them from her. Smek’s nervous smile faltered. He hardly needed the low growl from K-Trong to figure out that he should quit. The probabilities of success had dipped well below fifty percent. 

Smek rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in surrender, trying to feel more annoyed than disappointed in her lack of trust. “Fine, the sleep-deprived humansperson will drive. It can’t be much worse than a fully operational human mind driving,” he griped. “I’m happy so long as I’m not dying horribly in an asteroid field. And—”

“Here,” Lucy sighed, and Smek barely had time to catch the keys. He cupped them in his hands, staring with half-comprehending awe. 

“I’m not saying I trust you,” she explained when Smek glanced up at her, “but I think you’re smart enough to know that New Boovworld is a lot safer than outer space. Your Captain, Oh, is a good Boov. He’s not going to hurt you for sabotaging his plan to fix the moon’s orbit.”

“What about Gratuity and—” the Shushing, Smek almost asked without thinking. But he caught himself just in time, sensing the sheer cliff he’d almost stumbled himself right off of.. “I-I mean,” he winced, “how do you know about…”

“I face-conferenced with my kids yesterday,” Lucy explained with a tired shrug. She walked past Smek and opened Slushious’ backseat door, oblivious to the bug-eyed shock on the Boov’s face. 

“So,” the prior Captain squinted, “you know…everything?”

So far he’d let Lucy carry on with the assumption that he’d stolen Slushious out of petty rivalry. He never once considered telling her the real story behind what happened at the Common Dome. It never occurred to him that she could find out. And he never wondered what would happen if she did. Now, he carefully toed the ledge of what she knew.

“Yeah, I know everything,” Lucy replied tiredly. She leaned against the car and gazed into space. “Tip is actually a lot less angry than Oh, which is odd for them. But we have bigger things to worry about than what happened in the Common Dome. Back on Earth…there has to be another way to stop all of the…”

Then she stopped. The human was toeing her own ledge, that was clear, and something that almost looked like dread got swept below a weary smile.

“Better to save my concerns for someone who cares, huh?” Lucy chuckled. It was barely even a jab, but Smek felt it nonetheless. 

Before he could try to reply, she said, “Tell K-Trong I appreciate him taking us in. We’d both be goners if he hadn’t,” she pointed out in response to the Boov’s sour look. “While you translate, I’ll be in the back.” 

Lucy offered K-Trong one last smile before she shut the door. Slushious jolted when she collapsed onto the seat, and with several hours of Gorg-sitting piled up on top of her, Smek knew she wasn’t about to get up. Once again, almost secretly, he looked at the keys she’d dropped in his hands. Usually he’d be planning an escape. But he wasn’t. Smek hardly realized what he was thinking until K-Trong spoke his thoughts aloud.

“The human has faith in you,” he said in Gorgspeak. “Just the tiniest amount.”

In a truly unsettling moment when Smek met the Gorg’s yellow eyes, he felt their minds take the exact same journey through time. Back when two aliens sat across from each other during a peace meeting. They had the opportunity to make a better future for both of their species. K-Trong had been the one that offered it. He was the one that gave Captain Smek a tiny fraction of faith.

Now, those yellow eyes narrowed, full of memory of what that Captain had done. “You will make her regret it,” he said, colder than a fact. “You never know what you have. You never even know what you’re holding.”

Back then Smek had run away. Of course, he’d been the only one he could rely on to keep himself alive. He didn’t have anybody else to fall back on. Nobody else to trust—not with his life, at least. But he wasn’t alone this time. The awful snores already coming from the backseat reminded him of that. Lucy Tucci was the reason he was about to leave the ship in one piece. She’d protected him, and K-Trong wouldn’t challenge her.

With that in mind, Smek got a little cocky. For the first time ever, a Boov grinned in a Gorg’s face. 

“I know exactly what I have,” he said, flaunting the keys. He flung open the driver side door. “A one-way ticket out of this loathsome place! Lucy Tucci says thanks. I say, Sayonara! Goodbye! Although—” he paused behind the wheel. “If the orange Gorgling, the troublesome one, ever wants to learn how to properly hold a flashlight. Or to practice important life skills like running and cowering. Maybe…it is possible that I could spare a moment to—”

“You will never see my children again,” K-Trong replied. It was more of a growl than anything else. “Let me promise you that.”

There was nothing else to say. Actually, Smek had plenty more to say, like he usually did. But K-Trong was walking away by the time that he remembered how to work his jaw, and all he could do in response was slam Slushious’ door. A short pause in Lucy’s snores preceded the rumbling purr of the engine. The car lifted into the air, and they hardly needed to wait for any move on the Gorg’s part for Smek to find his way out into open space. He gripped the wheel tightly in his hands as the Gorgship shrank into a tiny speck in the rear view mirror. Still, his hands felt empty.

K-Trong was undoubtedly right. Under no circumstance would Smek ever need to see the Gorglings again. They would grow up and turn into the same kind of planet-conquerors that Gorg always turned out to be. Even Julio, who couldn’t even hold a flashlight steady. Who was nothing but tiny and cute and innocent inside of Smek’s hands. But—all those things were deceptive qualities! Julio had attacked him, twice, the second time leaving an awful scratch. Smek would be better off never seeing him again. He didn’t even want to see him again.

And when it all came down to it, what Smek wanted was the only thing that mattered. He wanted to return to New Boovworld. Captain Oh would spare him, even after what he’d done at the Common Dome. Lucy Tucci had assured him of that when she revealed that she knew everything. Now, while they dove through space, Smek considered how miraculous it was that she didn’t hate him. But he wouldn’t question it. For all the things he wanted, there were just as many things that he didn’t want. And he didn’t want Lucy Tucci to hate him.

The sounds rumbling forward from the backseat ebbed away the aching emptiness in his hands. While there was nothing to see but pitch-black space in front of him, Smek adjusted the mirror to look at Lucy while she slept. She was hardly more than a lump under the blankets, with her dark brown hair spilling out over the seat on one side. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was agape to make those terrible humansleep noises he’d grown familiar with.

“What a noise,” he huffed under his breath. “Sounds like Koobish mating call.”

There were a lot of things that Smek wanted. He wouldn’t get what he wanted most of all. Importance and significance, applause and praise. But for now, he just wanted Lucy Tucci to keep snoring. They were driving toward Earthland’s solar system. It wouldn’t be too long until they were back in New Boovworld. Then, Smek could return to the life he’d made over the past several months. Even as a worthless, meaningless Boov, it was a life. He had a place to live and a society to be a part of. Maybe, he even had something halfways to a companion. What could possibly sabotage that?

Chapter Text

Julio is one of the supporting characters in the later chapters of Forces of Gravity! He is an original character that plays an important role in shaping the relationships between some of the main protagonists.

Just like all of his siblings, Julio spent many years in his larval form while inside the Shusher. He did not begin to mature until Oh returned the egg to K-Trong, who then released his children from stasis.

Gorglings start off with small-sized mechsuits that undergo many updates while they mature and grow older. Julio’s mechsuit is a fraction of the size of his father’s, making it perfect for crawling all over his favorite people. 
Outside of his mechsuit, Julio has gained a very close resemblance to his father! But a defining physical difference between each new generation of Gorg is their color. K-Trong’s own generation was orange. Julio’s is an adorable pink.

Overall, Julio is an energetic and feisty Gorgling who is always looking for fun, and getting into trouble! But unlike many of his siblings, Julio also portrays great emotional intelligence. Species is not a barrier to his attachments, and he is greatly protective and caring of anyone he chooses to be his family.

Miscellaneous Info—

Species: Gorg

Gender: Somewhat non-applicable to the species, but Gorg are mainly referred to as male!

Age: Now that’s debatable. He was in the egg for many years, but his maturation has only progressed over several months!

Dislikes: Nap-time, water

Likes: K-Trong, his siblings, adventure, and of course, Aunt Lucy and Uncle Smek!

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good

Contender for the next special—Hitch!

Chapter Text

During her many years among the Boov, Senior Officer Shirl had witnessed a variety of emotions, usually in blaring traffic-light color. And of all the emotions she’d seen, anger was certainly the most unpleasant.

At its very worst, anger was an approaching Gorg mothership, ready to rip apart planets in a ceaseless quest to destroy their enemies. But that was Gorg anger, vicious and violent, enough so to vanquish entire worlds. Boov anger was different. It didn’t linger, didn’t control their thoughts and actions. Boov anger didn’t last.

It was a fact she knew from her own personal experiences. Decades of working as a cop meant that Shirl had thrown out plenty of orders to Boov that didn’t necessarily want to comply. Red would flare on their bodies, replacing purple for a brief instant. And then, after a blink of time, the purple would be back and the Boov would grudgingly follow the orders she gave them. Because that was just what Boov did: they followed orders and behaved. It was their natural inclination.

At least—that’s what Shirl had always assumed. The type of anger she saw today completely baffled her. It wasn’t even close to the scale of the Gorg’s, but it certainly wasn’t a temporary flare that would just as quickly wither into nothing. These Boov gathered in front of her were a new kind of angry, something in between. 

Shirl didn’t know quite what to make of it. So she did the intelligent thing. She focused instead on what she did know, and she knew she had to follow her orders to perfection. And President Kyle’s orders demanded that none of the protesting Boov made it into his presidential tower. Not while he, Captain Oh, and the humansgirl awaited the return of Lucy Tucci and Disgraced Former Captain Smek.

“Do not budge!” she shouted, and the Boov cops immediately strengthened their brigade. There was an ounce of appreciation to be felt when none of her inferiors fled, even while the crowd swelled and shouted in their faces.

“We are wanting to speak with Captain Oh!” a Boov yelled.

“Yeah!” shouted another. “How come he is caring more for a humansgirl than the Boov?!”

“This is the worst betrayal!” someone complained. He clutched his vest and looked queasy. “It makes me sick to be thinking about. Both my stomachs hurt! And Koobish ears are in season…”

“President Kyle and Captain Oh are in their busyness,” Shirl yelled to the crowd. “All complaints and comments must be sent by tablet to the central log for processment!”

The eyes of the crowd rolled in a vast show of irritation. Never before had Boov scoffed at using remote communications. The Boov had certainly never risen in protest like this. Shirl had seen her people flock together in great masses of yellow before, but not red. She would have never expected such dissent and disobedience from the same Boov that had followed Captain Smek without question. 

“I demands to speak to my Captain with my face to his face,” a Boov snapped. Meanwhile she was right up in Shirl’s face, all hunched shoulders and tightly-wound nostricles. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and for a brief second her eyes darted to look at the tower’s entrance beyond the senior officer’s shoulder.

Shirl stiffened and prepared for the worst. But for once, the worst didn’t come, and the protestor simply huffed in frustration before plodding off to share her complaints with another red-tinted face. Shirl relaxed a fraction, relieved that Boov were still fundamentally Boov. They were not fighters. The crowd could simmer and shout all they wanted. She and her brigade of cops wouldn’t budge, and they wouldn’t get hit in the face for it, either.

Well. That’s what she let herself believe, for a fraction of a second. She was too focused on the mess of trouble happening on the ground to consider what could be coming from the air. All Shirl got for a warning was the humming whir of old gadgetry before something the size, shape, and speed of a cannonball knocked her backwards. 

“Senior Officer Shirl!” her inferiors cried. They closed the gap she’d left in the brigade, with a few of the officers flipping around to aim their erasure guns at the bubble-shaped contraption on top of her.

“Stop!” she yelled. “Do not shoot!”

The cops reluctantly lowered their guns while their senior officer struggled to free herself. She grit her teeth and gave the old tech a hard shove. It finally retreated just enough to let her scramble to her pods, and she’d hardly regained her balance before the camera lens buried itself in her vest once more. 

“Uck,” she grimaced. This old Boov camera was outdated by several centuries. There was only one left, and she knew just who owned it.

Despite her best efforts, something other than purple managed to break through her skin. Her face turned red as the crowd’s, and the flush only grew when an all-too-familiar voice called from the other side of the brigade.

“Senior Officer Shirl!” Hitch grinned. He strained on his pods to peer over the heads of her officers. “My sincerest apologies! It has-for been a while since Cammy was out and about. Usually I’m preferring to use the newer, cheaper models, but this is a special occasion! Could you to–”

“Let him through,” Shirl demanded, “and only him.”

Hitch paused in surprise when a couple officers parted to let him pass. Then he smiled and tugged his bow tie. “I have no surprise! My handsome looks are always granting me the special access to these things—whoop,” he said when Shirl grabbed his vest and yanked him forward. The line of cops closed shut behind them, leaving them alone in the open space between the brigade and the front of the tower.

“You should not be here,” Shirl growled, releasing his vest. “You will only make more trouble for all of New Boovworld!” The old camera was still trying to nuzzle her. She did her best to hold it back. “And–and were you having to bring the old abomination?”

“Awww, did Cammy miss her momma?” he cooed.

“I hads nothing to do with its conception,” she replied dryly. “I has never committed such crimes against technology.” Before Hitch could reply, she stuck a finger in his face. “Show me what has been recorded of the protest, now.” 

He got an innocent look. Well, he tried to. Of all the looks Hitch had practiced, of feigned shock and plastered-on politeness, he’d never quite gotten that one down. 

“I only interviewed some of the good Boov of New Boovworld. They are deserving to have their thoughts heard, y’know!”

“Their thoughts are heard,” Shirl muttered. She massaged her temples. “I will be cleaning their thoughts out of my nostricles for the next week.”

Hitch laughed. “What funniness! Can you repeat that for the camera?”

“Hitch,” Shirl growled. 

Fortunately—or really, unfortunately—that reporter had hounded her enough to be clued in on the variations of her tone. He’d learned Don’t Mess With Me, the regular one to be messed with. And he’d also been introduced to Do NOT Mess With Me, briefly before being introduced to a special setting on her bubble gun. Hitch’s laugh squeezed into a nervous chuckle and he waved his hands placatingly.

“Alright, alright! If you woulds only tune into my news station every so often, you coulds to watch my vastly entertaining interviews in real time! But here is a special glimpse for our favorite officer!”

Hitch clapped his hands and gestured at Cammy. The old camera reluctantly moved from Shirl’s side and flew upward into the air. Spherical bubble-screens spewed from its lens like a strong breath through a bubble wand, and they gathered in an arcing rainbow of angry Boov faces.

“Captain Oh should not be Captain if his loyalness belongs to the humanspeople,” one Boov snapped in a pre-recorded interview. “At least Smek was only for the Boov! He never would has picked a human over us!”

“It is sounding like you want for Smek to be Captain again!” Hitch’s voice piped off-camera.

“No—well, actuallies,” the Boov narrowed his eyes, “maybe yes!”

“…What?” Shirl muttered, disbelieving.

The next interviewee shouted, “Smek would to be a better Captain than Oh! He does not care for humans at all. He said it rightfully! Humans are simple and backwards!”

“He Shushed a humansgirl, which is, I was thinking, oh no, poor Humansgirl,” a Boov said, hunched and awkward in front of the camera. “But then I was thinking, Smek does not have any worry at all for good of Earthland natives, only for the Boov. So I was thinking, he is more like proper Captain in that way.”

“And what else are ya thinking?” Hitch prodded as the camera zoomed in on the nervous Boov’s darting eyes. “Do you support Smek for Captain?”

“Y-yes,” the Boov said nervously. “I am thinking—”

“Smek shoulds to be Captain again!” the next one shouted, raising her fists in the air.

“Smek for Captain!” another yelled.

“Captain Smek!” someone chanted.

“Captain Smek! Captain Smek!”

“SMEK FOR PRESIDENT!!!”

The bubbles popped in the air. Hitch smirked and tugged his bow tie. “The last guy was a little confusion,” he said, “but he has got the right idea!”

Cammy swept down and nudged its master's head. Its gears pitched into a happy whir when Hitch patted and baby-talked. Shirl felt a different kind of whirring emotion building up inside. She felt like she could take a step to the other side of the brigade and fit right in. The red on her face wouldn’t go away.

“Why must you be doing these things?” Shirl growled. “Taking all the bad news and showing it to every Boov, making more badness! It will make the whole city think that Smek should be Captain!”

“Awwww, it is not bad news,” he said, still in that ridiculous baby-talk voice that had Cammy’s bubble-trail tail wagging like crazy. “The only bad news is the news that people do not watch! And plenty of Boov are tuned in to the protesting at President Kyle’s front door! You cannot be mad at me,” he chided sweetly when Shirl’s face got redder. “I only go where the news goes! You know the motto—” Hitch struck a pose, shrugging and splaying his hands in a way he must have thought was charming: “If It’s News!”

Shirl scowled and raised a finger, prepared to make the reporter feel ashamed for his vacuous lack of integrity. But a message from her tablet, accompanied by a sharp ding, insisted it was the more worthwhile endeavor. Hitch lurched forward like he could actually get a whiff of the drama. It was definitely a more realistic endeavor.

“President Kyle wants for me to meet him in a Koobish crater field…?” Shirl muttered, squinting, her voice only loud enough for the most ravenous, desperate ears.

“Whoop,” Hitch said, “Suddenly I has got to go, I think I forgot something—ehm, yes! I forgot that Cammy and I need to stop by the oil shop!” 

Cammy jolted in fear and took off over the crowd with a frothy trail of bubbles spewing behind it. Hitch panicked and waved his hands. “NO CAMMY I WAS ONLY LYYYY—liable for compensation, I mean!!” he ad-libbed, backing anxiously away from Shirl. “After all, y’know, the last time I got oil, there was being an alarming lack of hazardous warnings! Especially with that ridiculous Humans Holistics store so closeness! Seriously! Who knows what could happen—oil and fire! That would be news!” 

The reporter laughed, nearly shaking with nervous excitement, and then he nearly bowled over a couple officers when he rammed through the brigade. Hitch took off after the trail of froth slowly dissipating from the air. Shirl groaned and shook her head. Then she looked back down at the message on her tablet. 

It was a notification from her officers patrolling the outskirts of New Boovworld. Slushious was spotted entering the atmosphere of the moon colony, and now it was headed towards Kyle’s presidential tower. That was all according to plan. Boov officers would flank the car as soon as it got closer, and guide it to the designated parking place where Captain Oh and the others would be waiting to reunite.

Shirl frowned, then, and looked up from her tablet, considering the crowd.

Smek for Captain!

The words echoed in her mind, and just to rub it in, a sign popped into her sight with the ugly mantra scrawled across it. She looked around. There were more—lots more, popping up like bacterial growth and—hey, there was the Smek for President guy. The P was backwards. Someone should check up on him.

A bad feeling was roiling inside Senior Officer Shirl’s stomach. Not quite the type that made her want to hurl, but the more bothersome kind. The one that made her feel like she was failing to consider something. Signs were springing up in front of her, all made by naive Boov who perceived a gaping hole in their Captain’s ability to fulfill his role. His role of a Captain that had absolutely no care for anything other than Boov, and especially no care for humans. They already knew who they wanted to fill that role in place of Oh.

And that Boov was currently well on his way. He just so happened to be the most slippery, loud-mouthed, self-obsessed and attention-hungry Boov that Shirl ever had the misfortune of trying to capture. If he had it his way, his face would probably be plastered on every semi-sentient billboard in New Boovworld. Maybe he would be satisfied just to see his face on the protestors’ signs, the bubbular ones rising up like lost balloons. The ones calling for his return as Captain.

Suddenly, something very disconcerting happened. Hitch spoke into her ear, and he was nowhere nearby. Oil and fire, he said. 

Shirl was not a big fan of explosions.

“The plans are changing,” Shirl spoke into her tablet. By now she had abandoned the protest to speed through the sky in her bubble-craft. She was headed toward the red craft just entering the sky above the city, the one that cruised thousands of feet below her altitude, unaware of her approach.

President Kyle spluttered on the other end of the face-conference. “Trust me!” Shirl implored. “Meet me at the Common Dome with the Captain and his humansgirl! We cannot to let the fugitive get within view of the protesting. I will be there—” 

Her eyes narrowed, calculating her aim, and a few precise taps of her fingers on the steering orb launched a bubble attached to a gravitational beam. It encapsulated her target, trapping it within the force field, and two flip-eye headlights opened wide in alarm. The wheels pawed uselessly in the air as Shirl swept by overhead, dragging the car backwards toward the Common Dome. Whoever was piloting the car activated a couple odd-looking blasters, and Shirl’s grip tightened around the steering orb when they aimed in her direction.

“Don’t you dare,” she muttered. 

The pilot really didn’t dare, apparently, because the blasters reluctantly deactivated and slowly retreated back into hiding. Shirl sighed. She lifted the tablet back to her face, not bothering to look at her president’s wide-eyed, almost frantic face. “I’ll be there with Disgraced Former Captain Smek and Lucy Tucci,” she concluded. “I am ready for the second phase of Smek’s escapement.”

“Senior Officer—Shirl,” Kyle gawked, “what is going on? We hads a plan! Is it—” his face shuttered, “is the protesting that bad?”

Shirl looked at him, away from the sight of the Common Dome rising up in the distance, beyond the outskirts of the city. “No,” she said, simply, “it is much, much worse.” 

She felt a little regretful when she accidentally ended the call in the middle of Kyle’s alarmed questions. Mostly because she’d accidentally done it on purpose. But they would have time for discussion in the Common Dome. They could discuss everything after Captain Oh and Lucy Tucci reunited in happiness, and Smek ran away and left New Boovworld for good. 

Shirl nodded to herself while she dragged Slushious along like a limp kitten by the scruff. Yes, she thought; they could discuss everything that had gone wrong, right after everything finally went according to plan.

Chapter Text

“Senior Officer Shirl,” Smek drawled, and she figured he was trying to grin, but all she could see were his eyes peeking through the window of the cracked-open car door. “Good to see you…back on your pods!” he chuckled nervously.

Her lip twitched and she gestured with her erasure gun. The former Captain sheepishly jumped out of the car, raising his hands up like that did anything but make him a bigger target. Other than the bandaid taped across one of his palms, Smek looked exactly as he had when she’d almost captured him in BURP. 

Almost. That word still mocked her from time to time, and her grip tightened around the erasure gun when she decided it was not going to happen again. Smek turned yellow. He pointed at the swirly pattern on the gun, the one that promised absolute destruction in the cutest way it could.

“Is that really necessary?” he chuffed, some of his usual audacity mixing in with the fear.

“Depending,” Shirl replied. “Is there a humansperson about to step out of the vehicle? One does not mysteriously disappear without the other.”

“AH—” Smek jolted and stumbled backwards, still with his palms thrown up in the air. He knocked on Slushious’ rear door. “Lucy Tucci! Wakey wakey now! Lucy Tucci!”

“H—uh?” 

Smek scrambled to make room when the back door swung open, and the missing human all but collapsed out. She leaned heavily on the prior Captain and glanced around, frazzle-haired and wide-eyed, trying to piece together where they were.

“What…where are we?”

“The Common Dome!” Smek cried. He grappled her arm and glared pettily at Shirl. “How did you sleep through the hijacking of our trajectory? I was screaming and yelling like crazy!”

“After a couple days with you, it starts to become background noise,” Lucy replied. She wearily scrubbed her eyes, then spotted Shirl and straightened up. “Oh—hello,” she said, “who are you? Where—would you happen to know where my kids are? Oh and Gratuity were supposed to meet us when we arrived in New Boovworld.”

“My name is Senior Officer Shirl,” Shirl replied, slipping the bubble gun back around her arm. Smek physically deflated with relief. “Captain Oh, President Kyle and the Gratuity will be here very shortness. In the meantime, I must request that Disgraced Former Captain Smek leaves.”

“What?” the pair gawked in unison. Lucy said, “Really? Just like that?”

Smek turned on her like he wasn’t equally surprised. “Why are you surprised?” he demanded. “You said that I would not have severe punishment!”

The human huffed and crossed her arms. “Not severe punishment, no, but for stealing Slushious and me, I figured you would at least get a slap on the wrist.”

“That sounds painful!” Smek cried.

“Enough with the talking!” Shirl cut in. They looked at her like they’d forgotten she was even there. Her irritation grew and she wielded it at Smek. “Disgraced Former Captain Smek,” she said, making every word bite, “you will take my bubble-craft and leave, now!”

Immediately they shared another look. Lucy frowned at the same moment Smek grinned. “You’re taking the senior officer’s car? You’re even getting special treatment,” Lucy muttered. She was starting to look a little offended.

“Yes-well, special treatment is what I was genetically designed for,” he replied smugly, his nostricles raised higher than ever. He brushed off his vest as he strolled toward Shirl. “The little abduction of a simple humansperson will not get in the way of that! I may even have to do it again before you start to miss me. What Boov could you like more than me, with my competence and charming looks.”

“Oh,” Lucy gasped.

Smek paused. “It was a rhetorical question,” he muttered.

“Tip!”

“But,” he whined, “Gratuity is not even a—”

“They are here,” Shirl growled. She pointed over his shoulder, and he turned to see two bubble-crafts entering in through a vent near the ceiling.

Piloting one was President Kyle, and in the other was Captain Oh with the humansgirl crouched near his side. Lucy waved her hands and both of the crafts swept closer. They were barely within safe distance of the floor when Gratuity barreled out, popping the bubble and stumbling her landing to the floor. Oh’s alarmed shout was lost on the young human’s ears as she steadied her sprint and launched toward her mother. Lucy ran to meet her daughter in the middle.

For a brief moment Shirl cringed; she’d automatically calculated their speeds, and the blunt dispersion of that much kinetic energy would have to result in pain. But she seemed to have underestimated the older human’s understanding of physics, because Lucy carried the momentum along flawlessly when she scooped up her daughter in a spinning hug.

“Mom!” Gratuity cried, wrapping her arms like a cinch around her mother. 

“Turtlebear,” Lucy sighed in relief. 

Shirl frowned and wondered if she’d heard that right. She glanced around for a vicious hybrid that managed to sneak in from Earth. But the only hybrid she saw was the cat-pig, the one that ran from Captain Oh’s craft and rubbed happily against its masters’ legs. Her Captain was the last to dismount. He was approaching the humans just as Shirl’s focus shifted to President Kyle.

Kyle swept overhead of the sentimental display and toward the two Boov of lesser standing.

“President Kyle!” Shirl dutifully acknowledged with a salute.

“Hey Kyle,” Smek said with a wave that looked more like a dismissive flick. He was too busy watching Lucy to care that much when Kyle marched angrily up to him. 

There was an expression on Smek’s face that Shirl found difficult to decipher. Not quite sad, but certainly not anything too far the opposite. But she was tired of dealing with feelings beyond her familiarity, so when her President dismissed her, she happily stepped aside. She stood dutifully between two different reunions, one of them highly affectionate, and the other…less so. To say the least.

“YOU ARE A NUISANCE OF IMMEASURABLE PROPORTIONS,” Kyle snapped, about jamming his finger in Smek’s face. “I HAS WAITED HOURS JUST TO TELL YOU!!”

“Just be glad I decided to come back to New Boovworld,” Smek replied. He finally deigned to offer his President a withering side-eye. “You would has never gotten me back yourself. Like during the invasion. I should has sent Shirl for the capture of Oh. As they say, you hads the one job.”

Shirl smiled briefly before she remembered not to be complimented by that. She turned her head away from the incessant spluttering and scolding that came from her otherwise highly respectable President. Instead she watched the happier meeting happening further away. Captain Oh had joined the hug, and he didn’t look in any rush to leave it.

“I missed Mimom so much!” he wailed. “There were many tears! Especially tears from Tip.”

“What?” Gratuity yelped. “Not even! I barely even cried at all!”

“She cried a lot,” Oh said gravely.

“Dude,” she hissed.

“Awwww, I missed you both too!” Lucy gave them each a kiss on the head. Oh’s body glowed pink and Gratuity grinned until she noticed Shirl watching. A different kind of pink flared on the teenager’s face and she finally pulled out of the hug. Lucy noticed her daughter’s embarrassment and gave her an extra obnoxious kiss on the hair.

“Mom,” Gratuity groaned, “not in front of everyone!” She side-eyed Shirl, who finally decided to direct her interests elsewhere.

The Boov only half-listened to the humans’ conversation when she moved her diligence to President Kyle and Disgraced Former Captain Smek.

“I can’t wait for us all to return home,” Lucy said in the background.

“What?!” Smek cried. Yellow and orange blasted over his skin, then settled into red. “What do you mean you want me to leave New Boovworld?! I—I thought that—”

“When I said to you to leave,” Shirl cut in from the outskirts, “I was not meaning for you to go home. I was meaning for you to do your favorite thing.”

Kyle gestured to Shirl’s unattended bubble-craft. “Under the order of Captain Oh, Disgraced Former Captain Smek is to run away! The only other option is lifetime imprisonment.”

Those last couple of words alone should have been enough to send Smek running. But his pods seemed glued to the ground. His whole body was frozen in apprehension, except for his eyes. He kept looking at Lucy. “But,” he said, “but I cannot just—w-what about—Lucy Tucci!” 

Smek called for the humansperson for help. But she was already well occupied.

“What?” Lucy said. Both her kids had been struggling to admit something. They were crestfallen. Now, she looked nervously between them. Pig hunkered close to the floor and meowed sadly. “What’s wrong?” she asked. She sounded frightened. “What happened?”

“Tipmom,” Captain Oh said. His voice was unusually formal and indirect. He tried to say more, but then he faltered. He looked at Gratuity for help.

Gratuity scuffed her shoes uncomfortably on the floor. “Mom…there’s something we need to tell you. Something happened on Earth, yesterday…”

“Don’t you think you’ve already caused enough trouble for Lucy Tucci?!” Kyle yelled. Never before had Shirl seen him so livid. Similar to Oh, he seemed to have a soft spot for the humans. At least he made it clear to Smek what his options were. “Banishment or imprisonment! So,” he fumed, “what do you choose?”

Neither of those options were strictly pleasant, objectively speaking. Still, Shirl felt surprised that it was taking Smek of all Boov so long to run away. It was in his nature to run away without thinking of any alternative solutions. Now, his eyes darted and his skin morphed through every possible color and pattern. Shirl thought it was only inevitable that he would finally break and run for it.

And she was right—for the most part. A couple things managed to catch her off guard.

Lucy Tucci’s pained wail managed to be the first.

Smek and President Kyle disappeared from Shirl’s radar and she hurried toward the scene of greater panic. Gratuity and Captain Oh were desperately trying to calm Lucy, who looked like she’d been physically struck in the gut. Her eyes were frantic and spilling over with tears, and she leaned heavily on Oh for support.

“No, no, no,” she cried. “How could someone do that?! How could—if you would’ve been home—they could’ve—they almost—they almost hurt you!!”

“Mom, please! You need to breathe!” Gratuity begged, but she sounded nearly as frantic. Oh looked completely subdued. “We’re fine, Mom!” Lucy’s daughter urged. “We’re fine! We were already in New Boovworld and Shirl saved Pig from the fire just in time! Everybody’s okay!”

“You don’t understand! You’re too young to understand!” Lucy sobbed. “You could’ve been hurt! It would’ve been the end of my life!”

Inexplicably, Shirl thought of a game she’d play with her inferiors on particularly uneventful days, in order to exercise their intuition. It involved stacking moon rocks in such a way that they did not fall over. It was not a game of luck; it was a game of gravity. Even the most precarious stack of rocks could stay upright, if oriented in such the right way. But every stack would eventually fall. If not for a mistake on a Boov’s part, then for a badly timed wisp of air.

Now, even for a Boov as non-metaphorical as Shirl, Lucy looked very much like a precariously designed tower that had finally, inevitably, tipped.

Witnessing the human fall into pieces was the first thing Shirl had not expected. The second thing she didn’t expect was to see Smek running—not toward his escape, but toward Lucy. She didn’t even hear Kyle’s warning until Smek was already speeding past.

“Lucy Tucci!” Smek yelped. “Lucy Tucci, why-for are you—ACK! Shirl!”

“Stay back!” Shirl snarled. She’d immediately swung between the criminal and the vulnerable human, sticking the erasure gun in his face. Smek stumbled backwards.

It didn’t take too long for yellow to flare into red. “Out of my way!” he shouted right into the gun’s deadly, cutesy swirl.

If Shirl hadn’t been so angry, she would’ve been impressed. But alas. She was absolutely furious. 

“Do you think I will let you closer?!” she snarled. “I will erase you if you try it!”

The threat, full of vitriol and unflinching promise, managed to break even the human out of her downward spiral.

“Shirl, don’t!” Lucy cried. 

“You will not!” Smek dared. He puffed up in front of her, red and almost towering with his nostricles raised up high. “You will get out of my way, now! That’s an order from your Captain!”

Shirl didn’t have her prior Captain’s perfect memory. But she could still remember those exact words in crystal-clarity from when she was falling to her probable death through the bowels of BURP. Something like protectiveness powered her next words. Protectiveness mixed with a grudge big enough to fill the entire Common Dome.

“I will not let you hurt Lucy like you hurt Gratuity Tucci!” she all but screamed.

It wasn’t something she’d been meant to say. Gratuity and Captain Oh wanted to avoid the unpleasantness of having their mother find out about the Shushing. But Shirl’s shout, Gratuity’s flinch, and a very badly timed flick of Smek’s gaze—right toward the golf club that still lay abandoned on the Common Dome’s floor, not so far away—was more than enough for Lucy to figure out exactly what had happened in jarring detail.

To reiterate. Shirl had been alive for many, many years. She’d seen anger in its different forms. And the Gorg were the only species she’d encountered whose anger was enough to rip apart planets. But the fury in the human mother’s eyes, upon learning that Smek had done harm to her daughter—

That anger could destroy entire worlds. 

Needless to say. Shirl had not expected to hear such vicious words erupt from Lucy’s mouth. She hadn’t expected to swivel her guard to keep the human from getting any closer to Smek. He stumbled backward and weakly tried to explain that he thought she’d known. He thought she’d known that he had Shushed Gratuity. Smek had been under the impression that she simply didn’t care.

Boov could reasonably accuse humans like Lucy of a whole host of things. Not caring for their young was simply not one of them.

Senior Officer Shirl had not expected so much chaos. Inarguably, many things had not gone according to plan. Even still. Now that some time had passed and emotions were settling, she could comfortably assert that her most crucial objectives were achieved.

Captain Oh had reunited in happiness with Lucy Tucci. Even though, at present, he was distant and removed from the humans, instead conversing quietly with President Kyle.

And Smek had finally run away. Lucy had given him every single reason to, for the sake of his own self-preservation. With Senior Officer Shirl’s specialized bubble-craft, he would be able to traverse space in his permanent run from New Boovworld, never to return.

Of course, not everything was perfect. The protesting Boov still demanded attention. But the worst threat—that being Smek’s hungry ego—was gone for good. At least Shirl could inform Captain Oh of all the bad news on a high note.

She couldn’t have known the worst of the bad news was yet to come. Smek did not leave New Boovworld. He couldn’t bring himself to leave the atmosphere. So, in an impulse decision, he veered away from the depths of space. He couldn’t return to the city. There was only one place for him to go.

When he flew over the Koobish crater fields, someone else was already there.

The Boov watched the disgraced former Captain fly overhead and dive down into the giant herd of grazing Koobish. He paused in the middle of eating a pair of ears.

“Well,” Hitch said. He grinned and tugged his bow tie. “That’s news!”

Chapter Text

“You hit my daughter in the head with a golf club?! What is wrong with you?!”

Until a moment ago, Shirl’s erasure gun had been trained on Smek’s face. He didn’t even have time to be relieved when she swung around; Lucy had lunged forward in the same instant to scream at him. Shirl holstered her gun in record time to hold the furious human back.

Now, Lucy strained against Shirl’s hands. “I should have let the Sheps—I should have let the Gorg—I should have strangled you myself!” She curled her fingers in the air, and Smek found himself clutching protectively at a neck he didn’t even have. “I don’t know how that would’ve worked,” Lucy admitted, nearly deflating for a fraction of second, “but—” she bristled and all the fury was back, “but that’s what I should’ve done!!”

“How can you be saying these terrible, terrible things?” Smek cried. “Before, on the Gorgship, you said that you knew it all! I thought you knew about the—”

“You thought I knew that you hurt my daughter? What, did you think I just didn’t care?! How dare you believe that I am anything like you! You really are a worthless jerk!!”

The nasty words continued. Lucy was hardly fighting back against Shirl anymore. It seemed like she had already launched her attack. Her words felt like blows all their own, striking against insecurities that were hidden much better than they were armored. Somehow, even after all the horrible insults and threats, one remark landed the killing blow on Smek’s battered resolve to stay.

“But go ahead and call me stupid! You’re absolutely right! How else can I explain it?” Lucy snapped. “For a second, I almost cared about you. Just how stupid is that?!”

“You…” Smek’s eyes quivered as he backed away. His pods itched to flee. “You—”

“—You hurt my feelings!” Smek sobbed, finally choking out the words. They’d been stuck in his throat since he’d made the smart choice to run away from the Common Dome. But having a perfect memory—and a generally flawless cerebrum—worked against him sometimes. Right now it felt like he was stuck in a loop, unable to hear anything but the hatred in Lucy’s voice, or see anything other than the burning resentment in her eyes. He could even feel the chewing on his nostricles from when…

Wait.

“Ow ow ow stop it stop!!” Smek yanked his nostricles out of the mouth of the Koobish and scrambled backwards against the rough crater wall. The Koobish pinned its ears back but looked otherwise unbothered. 

“How dare you!!” he cried. “Don’t you know who I am?! Who I—who I…was…”

His eyes turned into wide, blank disks of utter despair and he fell unceremoniously onto his side, curling into himself as much as he could. The Koobish all paused and stared at him. “Stop looking at me!” he yelled. He hid his face as well as he could behind his hands. “Why do bad things happen to good Boov?” he sobbed miserably.

If the universe had any kind of answer for him, it was probably the sharp jab in his stomach when he flopped to lay on his face. “Ow!” he yelped, and searched the ground for a jagged moon rock. When he didn’t find anything, he patted his vest. A lump in his pocket made him freeze. Slowly, he withdrew the culprit.

“Oops,” he winced. He stared at Slushious’ keys that he cradled in his palm. He’d forgotten that he had them, and now he’d stolen them. It was yet another thing for Lucy Tucci to despise him for.

Smek deflated and groaned. With little else to do, he examined the keys. They were the only thing he had left of his unintentional road-trip with Lucy. When a Koobish snout eased too close and tried to nibble the souvenir, he scoffed and shoved it away. He didn’t know why he felt so protective. But he supposed that, in spite of all the unpleasantries that had unfolded during their trip, there was a sliver of something…not completely unpleasant.

Like the moment when Lucy dropped those same keys into his hands. When she trusted him to bring them both home. The memory was welcome when it arrived, at first. He remembered it so perfectly, it was like he was back in the Gorgship again.

Of course, he remembered it perfectly, so K-Trong had to make an unwelcome appearance.

“The human has faith in you,” he said in Gorgspeak. “Just the tiniest amount.

You will make her regret it.”

Smek noticed the little seashell attached to the keys. He’d never noticed it before. At least, he hadn’t noticed enough to care. He turned it over and stared at the photo framed within the delicate shell. He’d held the same keys, the same photo in front of K-Trong. He’d flaunted it in the Gorg’s face. It was a spiteful reply to what the looming alien had said. 

Smek wished he didn’t remember, but he could practically hear the Gorg saying those words from light years away.

“You never know what you have. You never even know what you’re holding.”

He’d been holding a fragment of Lucy’s faith. It was the first, cautious offer of something beyond mistrust. And in his hands, framed within a little shell, was the reason Smek had doomed their friendship before it even had a chance to begin. There was the human’s daughter, young and happy and sweet—everything that Lucy loved and devoted herself to protecting. She cared about her daughter. She’d almost cared about him, too.

Before Smek could even know how much he wanted that, he’d Shushed her daughter. He’d sabotaged everything. Now, he had absolutely nothing. Actually—he did have one thing. It was a single, indisputable fact:

He really was just a worthless jerk.

Anger overtook him. Anger had always felt entirely him, but now it was like a giant killer earthworm bursting from the ground, swallowing him up before he even saw its mouth. Smek threw the keys before he could think better of it. He watched them arc through the air and down toward an immense ocean of dark Koobish fluff. The earthworm unceremoniously spat him out and red turned to yellow.

“No—wait!” he yelped, but the keys landed in the midst of the herd. They’d be eaten before he had a hope of finding them. It would be illogical to try.

Smek had definitely spent too many hours with that human. The livestock chewed slowly and occasionally swiveled an ear, boredly watching the panicked Boov while he pawed the ground around their hooves. He tried to ignore the fact he was their dinner time entertainment. Of all the shows he’d put on for vast audiences, this was definitely the lowliest one of all. 

As the prior Captain shoved through their fluffy bodies and scrambled around their legs, pouring his attention on the dirt to find a pair of keys, he was glad he couldn’t see how pathetic he looked. The last thing he wanted was a glance of how miserably desperate he was. But lately, all he got was what he didn’t want, and a glance up revealed a third-person view of his own self in the dirt among the Koobish. He and his reflection yelped and jolted at the sight of each other. Then he paused, squinting, and popped the bubble-screen.

An old Boov camera dove forward through the flecks of water and nearly rammed into Smek’s face.

“AHH—oh, for the love of all things spherical!” Smek cried, laid out on the ground from the startle. “Why can’t I catch a break?! Why are you even being here?! Shoo, shoo! You should has been decommissioned four hundred years ago! Now what do you…”

He trailed off when a bubble from below the Boov camera extended like a helping hand. It popped, and Slushious’ keys dropped down into Smek’s hands. The Boov considered this, glancing up at the waggy-tailed old tech as it awaited its praise.

“You may have some usefulness, unlike your master,” Smek relented, slipping the keys back in his pocket. Cammy’s lens grew brighter when it beamed at the compliment. “Speaking of,” he said warily, “where is—”

“There you are!” someone laughed. 

Smek groaned in misery at the sight of the reporter, who’d jumped atop a Koobish’s back to grab his camera in a hug. “Hitch,” he muttered.

“Hello, Disgraced Former Captain Smek!” Hitch practically sang, still squishing his face against his beloved camera. “Thanking you for finding Cammy! She gets a little confusion sometimes. I cannot tell you how many times she tries for a Koobish documentary!”

“Yes-well, I grant you good luck with that,” Smek replied dryly. “So long as you leave me out of it. You were hassling me nonstop the first month of New Boovworld,” he recalled irritably. 

The reporter had been the last Boov willing to give Smek unrelenting special attention. Unfortunately, that translated into surprise interviews that bordered on outright harassment, all so he could pelt the prior Captain with tasteless questions about his—

“Fall From Grace After Outer Space!” Hitch recalled nostalgically. “I remember that special! Didn’t get nearly as many views as I was thinking…guess nobody cared about you,” he said, and both the Boov deflated for their own reasons. Hitch bounced back a lot faster. “But Cammy and I are returning for a new pitch! This one’s gonna break my station’s tune-in records! And you, Disgraced Former Captain Smek, are being the main star,” he grinned. 

Another Koobish nibbled at his nostricles as Smek stood in the dirt, entirely covered in moon-dust and hardly recovered from his latest cry. If his shame had been a stone on his shoulder before, the prying reporter just dropped a boulder on his head. His eyes widened in genuine horror.

“No!” he cried. “You will leave me be! Can’t you see I has had a bad enough day already?”

“I can see it,” Hitch replied way too quickly. He licked a finger and rubbed a fleck of dirt off Cammy’s side. “So rejoice! I has got, what we are calling in the business, good news. Great news, actually! And it’s just for you, Disgraced Former Captain Smek.”

“Just ‘Smek’ is fine,” Smek muttered. He glanced to peer over the sea of Koobish he’d gotten himself stuck in. Near the sheer wall of the moon crater was Shirl’s bubble-craft. Despite all the horrible things space had to offer, Hitch’s “friendly” offer could easily be much worse.

Hitch replied, “Yes, I am in agreement that Disgraced Former Captain Smek is quite a mouthful!” He leaned casually against the Koobish’s lanky neck and idly kicked his pods. “But Smek alone sounds so…insignificant,” he frowned. 

The Boov on the ground below him visibly winced. That last remark was only a well-placed poke, but Hitch knew just how to sink a whole hook in.

“How about a compromise! I know just the title! Captain Smek is quite the charm, isn’t it? Cammy and I can make the entireness of New Boovworld say it again!”

Just like that, the hook was set. They could’ve been completely alone in the vast crater field, with no nibbling Koobish in sight. Nothing but Hitch and his camera mattered to Smek. Of course—that could be worded better. They didn’t matter at all, to him; but the opportunity they represented? So when Cammy squinted its lens and coughed a little hoarsely, showing its age when a screw popped loose, Smek was entirely concerned.

“And you can do it with that old piece of outdated tech?” he asked dubiously.

“I certainly coulds not to do it otherwise!” Hitch replied. “It is something that goes to your benefit. You see,” he leaned forward and grinned especially wide, “I has always had a soft spot for outdated things, tossed to the side like junk. They make for a great come-back story! And stories is what I do best.”

Hitch slipped off of the Koobish’s back and landed right in front of Smek. He tugged his bow tie with a certain glint in his eye. “Call me a sap. But I woulds like to give yours a happy ending! A new look, the right lighting—I coulds even give you a fresh start! So?” he prodded. “What’ll it be? You tell me,” he winked, “Captain!”

There in the Koobish field, Smek had already come to terms with something. That he was a worthless jerk, just like Lucy Tucci had told him. If he hadn’t really faced it then, he was certainly faced with it now. The look on Hitch’s face was very familiar. Smek had seen it in the mirror many times. Smug and smiling, and so entirely composed of selfish desire that it was like a black hole for anything else. 

But now, with the right choice, Smek could be someone new when he admired his handsome looks in the mirror. He could choose to leave his days as such as lowly, miserable Boov behind him. Now, in a moment of true enlightenment, he realized he could be something much better than what he was. 

And so, for the first time in a long time, Smek made the right choice. He decided he wouldn’t be a worthless jerk any longer…

“Well! As your future Captain—I say that you need to get me on set!”

…Instead, he was going to be a jerk with a sizable price tag attached.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Pig remained curled on the mattress when they left Kyle’s sleeping quarters, and Shirl was dutifully waiting to escort them all to the “Watching Room”. Lucy initially took that as a living room—which wasn’t entirely off the mark. But instead of being a leisurely place for relaxation, it looked more like the center of operations for a paranoid anthropophobiac. Or—in a Boov sense, someone that leaned slightly more to the side of cautious introversion than most. A circular gold-rimmed tv, like an oversized tablet, was set into the wall across from Kyle’s seating, and a mess of bubble-screens floated in the air, all broadcasting different views of the same unfortunate scene.

Lucy had already seen the crowd of angry Boov on her way to Kyle’s presidential tower. Lately, it was pretty much impossible for her to get away from angry protestors. The screens all showed the red-colored Boov that swarmed at the front of the tower. They were yelling for Smek to return as their Captain. They didn’t know that Smek was already well on his way to absolutely nowhere. At least there was one silver lining among all the dark, roiling clouds.

Just as Tip had said, Oh was locked in something close to a huddle with Kyle and a Big Brained Boov. The swollen-headed alien was talking quickly and pawing at a set of holographic analytics in the air. Most of it Lucy didn’t have a chance of understanding. There were spherical Boov letters stacked in neat lines next to some weird charts and a green ball that toggled on a bar between—what looked like—a headless chicken and a beetle with a toothpick stuck through it. Lucy frowned. What would that inkblot test say about her?

“Captain Oh’s preferred humans Lucy Tucci and Gratuity ‘Tip’ Tucci are arrived now,” Shirl announced, startling the three Boov from whatever conversation they were having.

Oh turned and opened his mouth to say something. Then the green ball toggled too close to the impaled insect and all the Boov in the room tensed, holding their breath. The green ball paused. It backtracked closer to the incapacitated bird. Everyone sighed. Lucy and Tip shared a look.

”Tipmom!” Oh greeted. He stepped away from Kyle and the other Boov. It seemed more like a polite gesture of acknowledgement than a real attempt to get closer to her. Still, for as much as he was trying to remain distant, he just couldn’t keep the genuine worry from his voice. “How are you feeling? Are you restfulness? Is—is there anything for-to you are needing? Or wanting?” he insisted.

“Oh, well,” Lucy blinked, “nothing I can think of. I mean—I’m suddenly in the mood for Bajan chicken. But don’t worry about that.”

He looked alarmed. “Because the levels of sugar for healthy breakdown of carbohydrates are low?”

“No, because—actually. I shouldn’t say why. Listen, Oh. I understand that you are busy dealing with—” she gestured at the holographic overload of information floating in the air, “that…stuff. But Tip and I need to talk to you for a moment. In private.”

“Not advisable,” the Big Brained Boov piped before his Captain had a chance to reply. Tip bristled. “Due to the inordinately importunate set of circumstances that we are currently in the midst of, it would be an exceedingly apposite response that the Captain remain the cynosure of processes as they relate to the convalesce of New Boovworld’s respected hierarchy.”

“Is he even speaking English right now?” Tip asked irritably.

“Better than she,” the Boov remarked, crossing his arms.

“Big Brain Boov,” Tip muttered, “More like Big Mou—”

“Tip!” Lucy scolded.

“Mom,” Tip groaned, exasperated.

“I am in agreement with the Big Brain Boov,” Kyle started weakly. “Captain Oh woulds be wasting his valuable time if he—”

“Shut your mustache, Kyle!”

“Gratuity!” Lucy cried.

“THAT—THAT IS—THAT DOES NOT EVEN—WHY-FOR WOULD YOU EVEN—”

“Enough!” Oh cried, and everyone shut up—except for Shirl, who’d found intense interest in a very specific part of the wall during the whole ordeal. “Gratuity—Tipmom! I am—” Oh’s face turned all squishy and his eyes wobbled, “I am—I am needing to send you back to Earthland! For forever!” he wailed, burying his face in his hands.

Tip’s mouth dropped. Lucy faltered, “But…but, honey, we can’t leave you alone right now. You need our support. Please. Let us talk—”

Oh dropped his hands, and neither humans had ever seen such a terrible look of anguish on his face. “You must leave me aloneliness,” he said, just short of a whimper. “For your safety-ness and being-wellness. You must return to Earthland and leave me in New Boovworld…for forever.”

There wasn’t anything that Lucy could say. There were plenty of things that she wanted to say, that she had to say, but—she’d been completely floored. Tip was horrified, too. Lucy had felt the same electric jolt pass through both of them. The difference was that Tip still remembered how to use her mouth.

Unfortunately.

“Dude, have you been sniffing those car air fresheners again or something?!” 

Shirl’s focus immediately returned to the scene. “What was that?” she asked, and Oh’s eyes darted between the two cops staring right at him.

“Ah—”

“I can’t believe you are trying to ditch me! Again!!” Tip shouted. She advanced on her friend, who shook his head and waved his hands desperately. 

“No, no! You are misunderstanding! I am saying for you to put me in the ditch,” Oh said helpfully.

“You know what?! I just might!! Uuuugh!” Tip growled and pulled her hair. ”You’re doing the same thing you did to us before!!”

Oh’s eyes darted to the other Boov for help, but they were all awkwardly shuffling away. Except for Shirl, who’d found yet another interesting spot on the wall. Which was impressive, considering it was Kyle’s wall. 

Not even Lucy offered Oh any help. At some point, she’d sat down on a couch. It was objectively soft. It wasn’t comfortable. She tried to figure out how she could fix everything. 

“Before?” Oh asked. He twiddled his fingers. “Before-when?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” Tip spat. “Before! When you locked Mom and me in the car and broke the key in the lock and threw us up into the sky! You’re doing the exact same thing right now!”

Oh spluttered. “B-but I am not-for doing any of those things!” he cried.

“It’s a figure of speech,” she snapped. “I’m saying you’re pushing us away! You’re not letting us help you, and right when you need it the most!”

Tip gestured angrily at the holograph. One of her hands passed through and a graph briefly rippled. The Big Brain Boov raised a finger in protest, but of course, he ended up being too smart to draw her attention to him.

“I can’t read any of this stuff, but I get the gist of it!” Tip shouted. “More or less, it’s saying your place as Captain is royally screwed! Am I right, Triple-B?”

“Uh—Yes,” the Boov agreed sheepishly, “although, royally would suggest a completely autocratic system of government, when in fact—”

“See?! You’re in BIG TROUBLE, Oh! BIG trouble! And maybe you don’t want me around anymore…” she faltered and rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. “But, guess what? You’re stuck with me! And I’m not leaving. Neither of us are leaving! No matter what you say, and how much you hurt us when you say it!”

Oh’s disposition—barely held together before—completely crumpled at this point. “But that is what I has been trying to protect you from!” he cried. “Tip and Mimom are so hurt because of the Boov! Because of me! I—I am sorries,” he whimpered. He turned to something beyond Tip. Or rather, someone. “Senior Officer Shirl!”

“Captain Oh,” Shirl said dutifully. 

On the couch, Lucy stiffened. Which…wasn’t saying much. Her muscles had already locked up.

“Shirl,” Oh said. He looked at the floor and shielded his eyes from what he was doing. “As your Captain,” his voice shook, “I order you…to escort the humans…”

Kyle finally caught on and gasped, “Oh!”

“Oh!!” Tip screamed, angry and afraid.

“Oh,” the Big Brain Boov said, pointing nervously at a green ball easing too far away from a decapitated chicken.

Oh was going to send them back to Earth without him. He’d send them back without Slushious so that they couldn’t reach New Boovworld. So they would never be able to see him again. Because, after everything that had unfolded over the past week, Oh had gotten it in his head that he did his family more harm than good. Just like last time, he wanted to protect them at any cost—even if the cost was him. 

Finally, Lucy remembered how to talk. She had to believe there was still a chance to fix everything. She opened her mouth.

“Please,” she began, “Oh—”

“—Ohhhhhh boy,” somebody new called. 

The world froze. Well, that’s what it felt like. Everybody in the room froze, at least. Every pair of eyes turned slowly to the screen set into the wall. The one that, just a second ago, showed the protesting Boov outside of Kyle’s tower. Now, the whole scene was replaced by a singular Boov. All of Kyle’s smaller bubble-screens simultaneously popped. They seemed to know they’d been outclassed. 

Smek twirled a new scepter and slung it over his shoulder. He brushed an invisible speck off his new vest. It was dark gray with black trim. He looked very different. Mostly, he looked exactly the same. He grinned smugly, and rolled his eyes almost fondly. “Here we go again!!”

“Hitch,” Shirl muttered.

“We are doomed,” Kyle cried, fully panicking. “We are doomed!”

“No! No! No!” the Big Brain Boov argued. Apparently he was too freaked out to think of a longer word than that. “That’s not true!”

Smek’s demeanor turned serious. He glared at the camera like he had a grudge. “My fellow Boov,” he said, sternly, “I has only got one thing to say to you…”

The Big Brain Boov was gesturing desperately at the holographic green ball. It hadn’t toggled all the way to the speared beetle yet. “Look!” he insisted. “We aren’t doomed yet! We are okay! We are—”

Suddenly, Smek’s face split into a huge grin. His shoulders dropped and he slouched forward, loosing his arms like any playfully pompous overpaid celebrity:

“Give Daddy some sugar!!” 

That did it. The green ball hit the speared beetle. The entire room erupted into panic. Lucy remained on the couch, staring blankly at the Boov proudly parading himself for the whole city. She was the only one keeping a semblance of calm. She squinted, thinking. Only one question managed to be more important than the crushing certainty of imminent doom.

“Oh, Smek,” Lucy said, somewhere at the intersection of a sigh, a laugh, and a groan. “Who even taught you that?”

Chapter Text

Months ago, Smek had been faced with a terrible mutiny on the Boov mothership. The maniac fugitive Boov and the traitorous mid-level traffic cop had risen in defiance against him. They spit in the face of his natural authority as their Captain. With his legitimacy as leader kicked to the sheer edge of a cliff, Smek had clung onto one thing for dear life. It was, of course, the Shusher—his first success-story as the Boovs’ Captain. Long ago, the stolen souvenir had proven his competence at running away. It became his ticket for adoration, praise, and respect among the Boov.

If he had the Shusher, then he was Captain! 

Then the officer ripped the Shusher from his grasp, and the point ricocheted back to hit him in the face. And ‘the point’ hit hard enough to leave him in a pathetic, weeping mess on the floor. After Kyle and Oh had kicked him to the curb, the rest of the Boov hadn’t wasted much time in sweeping him right into the gutter. They left him behind, running him over in the process. And all because two Boov had taken his symbol of authority right out of his hands.

Smek never fully understood what motivated Kyle and Oh to commit such a horrendous crime against the natural order. Even a Boov crazy enough to make sixty-two mistakes shouldn’t have been so far off the rails to say that Smek, his Captain, was not a “good” one. How could he have been so unhinged as to stand against his own leader? In the months that followed, Smek still struggled to understand it.

But, now. He was really beginning to see the fun of a good mutiny.

“I cannot express how much joy I am that the Boov are finally catching onto that ‘Captain’ Oh’s gross incompetence!” he exclaimed. He twirled his new scepter. Not yet a marker of authority—but a shiny promise that he was going to get it back. 

“Mayhaps it has taken the wonky Earthland air so long to clear out of your cerebrums. In any case—I heard your pleads, and I has returned to fix the mess you made! But conditions are requiring something better than a good old-fashioned usurp-ment. Beside-of, I am better than just insulting the Captain and knocking him to the ground,” he said with honor.

It was the same kind of honor the carnivorous unicorns had, back when they didn’t chew up the scouts clinging out of their reach at the very top of a tree.

“So,” Smek grinned, “here is the plan!”

He swept the scepter in a long gesture across the air, and on the screen of every tablet in New Boovworld, a link was spelled out in glowing Boovish bubble-letters. It read—

“Majority vote!”

Smek shuddered upon saying it. “Desperate times,” he consoled himself, clinging to the cold scepter for warmth. “It must be done…” He cleared his throat and collected himself. He pointed down at the bubbular link displayed on the tablet of every Boov. 

“To make your vote,” and he assumed the same, informative tone like he was handing out comprehensive pamphlets, “just click on the link, and choose Smek if you are wanting a better tomorrow for today! Or choose Oh if you are missing your cerebrum, or want more to look forward to upon the inevitable heat-death of the solar system. Now!”

A holographic display of the votes in real-time appeared behind Smek. The camera panned out to make space for the polls pitting the prior Captain against the current one. The votes appeared as bubbles rising up out of a pit digitally displayed on the floor, and they faded from view when they approached the circular icons of Smek’s and Oh’s faces. A rush of bubbles spewed toward Smek’s image, and a green bar moved steadily upward while Oh’s count remained stagnant.

“HA!” Smek cried, and he pointed childishly at the camera. “You lose! You—“ Then he remembered himself. Or rather, the millions of Boov he was talking to besides Oh. “I mean…” he grinned sheepishly, “we all win,” he perked up, “because I win, and I will set this ship back on the right track! So, now that I am Captain once again—“

“Not so fast there, Kiddo!”

And suddenly Hitch was right alongside him in the spotlight, with his inferior handlebar mustache and a grin even wider than the one he’d dropped from Smek’s face. 

“Kiddo? You hardly have more rotations than me! Just what are you—“

“It is possible that I was not being clear when explaining the majority vote,” Hitch said, wiping back the frills on his head. They’d fallen out of place in his eager rush to hop in front of the camera. He snapped his finger a couple times, and a mess of Boov rushed around in the background to create a set fit for any late-night show.

Smek was too focused staring at Hitch to notice. “What is there to explain?” he cried, throwing his arms out and turning red. He gestured petulantly toward the charts with the scepter. “It is a majority vote! I have the majority! So I win!”

“You are projected to win,” Hitch corrected. He fussed with his bow tie. “But however, the results are not processed until the end of our interview, and until then any Boov can change their vote!”

“But…” Smek squinted, “what do you mean by interview?” 

He was on the fence about it.

“I mean all of New Boovworld hearing you talk about you!” 

Smek was on Hitch‘s side of the fence. He grinned and waved a hand, feigning bashfulness. “Well,” he chuffed, “although I would not like to waste any of my own valuable time, I suppose the good Boov of this city has been deprived of me for too long! I will answer some questions.”

Smek jumped onto a hoverchair, spinning it once for fun. It tilted to the left when he settled his weight. He kicked his pods idly, and smirked when he glanced at all the bubbles rising up for his votes. Hitch took the hover-chair across from the prior Captain. He crossed a couple pods and folded his hands neatly. Much like Smek, he looked more than relaxed under the weighty gaze of the entire Boov species. 

“Here is the first question that I has for the prior, probably-soon-to-be Captain of the Boov,” Hitch declared loudly. “You are very optimism when it comes to winning the majority vote! Now tell me, what is your plan for if you are becoming Captain again? Starting with the Boov that you will be replacing,” and he looked at the camera with raised brows, to clue everyone in on how interested they should be.

At this question, Smek looked toward the camera as well. But his gaze narrowed into something sharp, and it was no secret who he was really talking to. 

“Captain Oh has made a great many mistakes, and I will not be pardoning him again! But one of his crimes is worse than all the rest.” He aimed the scepter toward the camera like a weapon. “Captain Oh has chosen to put a humansgirl above the entire Boov species! He would rather live among humanspersons than his own people. So! I say that when I am Captain, I will give him exactly what he wants.” He leaned forward, on the edge of his seat about his own plan. “The traitorous Boov and all of his friends will be banishment to Earthland, forever!” 

Around the set, Hitch’s assistants gasped in horror at such a severe punishment. Smek slouched back and looked all too pleased with himself. Hitch scrunched his brows.

“Is…is that it?” Hitch asked. “Just sending him to Earthland? I was expecting something a little more worse, with the supervillain vest you were insistent upon.” He gestured toward Smek’s dark, black-trimmed vest.

“Super what-now? This vest matches my complexion! And it is much better than the ridiculous outfit you wanted for-to me to wear.” Smek glared off-screen toward the purple vest with the absurd, yellow epaulets on the shoulders. Then he got a thoughtful look. A smile wormed its way onto his face, and he said quite ominously, “I know how to make Oh’s punishment even more terrible.” He cackled.

Hitch grinned at the camera. “Folks, this is shaping up to be a very interesting interview! Remember to get your votes in before time runs out! Now, back to what’s important!”

“You mean me,” Smek replied with a smirk.

Canned laughter blared through hidden speakers. Smek instantaneously vanished from view. A reverberating scream lingered a couple seconds longer.

Hitch called, “Whoops! We are trying out effects from human entertainment! That was a sound bite from I Am Loving Lucy. My apologies,” he said, just a little too smugly. “I forget you may be much more adept at cowering than myself!”

Chapter Text

“AHHHH!!”

Hitch screamed and dove for cover beyond view of the camera. It was the natural reaction when a roaring Gorg suddenly appeared  right in front of him. Somehow Smek didn’t bat an eye. The prior Captain was still parading around on set. He used his scepter to gesture at the holographic Gorg as he told his tales of heroic cowardice. Apparently Smek had gotten into quite the adventure over the last couple of days. So far, he’d bragged about running from Sheps and Gorg and Gorglings alike.

It made for a great show, of course. Hitch couldn’t complain too much about a surprise fright. His view count, projected in the air above his loyal Cammy, had reached into the millions. It couldn’t get much higher than that, there were only so many Boov in existence! He’d gotten exactly what he wanted. The entirety of New Boovworld was watching his show. Hitch only kind of wished that Smek hadn’t swept his show right from under him.

“I dids not approve of that effect!” he hissed to his nearest assistant, shakily crawling out from behind her.

“It was Smek’s idea,” she replied with a shrug.

“What else was his idea? The confetti? The flashing lights and the instrumental? The green lasers and the spit-take?”

“You did the spit-take, sir.”

“You cansnot tell me he did not wait for me to take a sip of my oil before dropping the nostricle soup bit!!”

The reporter groaned and massaged his temples. Even his bowtie seemed to sag with all the stress piling up on his shoulders. “How dids he coordinate it all? I has been with him the entire time!”

“With the tablet he requested before the show. He had inspirement from the sound bite. He arranged the effects after, right during the interview.”

“But…but he didn’t even—“ Hitch paused. “He had his hands in his vest pocket for ten minutes after.”

“Yes, he was on the tablet messaging to us,  coordinating the—“

“Yeah I figured that out!” he snapped.

The Boov eyed Hitch with a little too much disdain for an unpaid intern. Actually, it was probably exactly the right amount for an unpaid intern. Hitch waved her off, then collected himself. He tugged on his bowtie. “Time to wrap this up,” he muttered. “It’s only so long before Shirl and her minions search every place in New Boovworld…” He grinned. “And she will-to realize we are not there at all! HA!”

Hitch chuckled to himself and wiped off the confetti that had gotten on his vest. He made his way back toward the scene that everyone in New Boovworld was watching. Smek was posing with his scepter raised high in the air. 

“That is the entire story of how I survived a hostile outer space with absolutely no help from anybody else, ever,” he finished. He motioned at himself, still posing: “This is for the sculptors out there. Are you sculpting yet? Be sure to get my good angle–that’s all of them, y’know,” he winked.

“WOW!” Hitch called. He jogged back onto the set and gestured widely at Smek. “What an exciting answer for the second question of the interview: How has you been? Now, unfortunately…” he pointed for Smek to return to his seat. The prior Captain deigned to oblige. He sat back comfortably with a pleased smirk. “We only have enough time at this venue for a few more inquiries! Surely every Boov hads great enjoyment from hearing of your dangerous trip through space! But what they really want to know for sure is that you, the projected new Captain, is not at all the same as the one that has betrayed us for a humansperson.”

Smek laughed obnoxiously. He wiped an eye and shook his head. “What funniness to compare me to that imbecile,” he snorted. “I am nothing like him! I am genetically engineered to be the perfect Boov Captain! Captain Oh is just some terrible screw-up that makes too many mistakes.”

“May that so it be!” Hitch replied. “But the Boov hads much forgiveness for the mistakes that he made. He did, after all, prevent our destruction from the Gorg mothership! He even ended the millenia-long feud between Boov and the Gorg!”

“Pfffft. That was one time,” Smek complained. He turned defensive and jabbed the scepter at Hitch. “Just whose side are you on, here?”

“Do not misunderstand!” Hitch chuckled. “I has every faith in you as a Boov Captain that cares not for any humansperson! You did hit a juvenile specimen in the head with a club, didn’t you?”

“I…” for the first time since Cammy aimed her lens at Smek’s face, he faltered. Dark bands rippled over his body. His eyes had blown wide at the question. “It was—I did not—I mean…yes,” he winced, “but—it was not intentional! Not…entirely intentional. It was reflex!” 

An odd, desperate strain had appeared in his voice. Smek wrung the scepter in his hands. 

“Right,” Hitch replied, squinting. He smiled pleasantly. “But you do’s not care much for the Gratuity, yes?”

Smek scoffed, but he visibly relaxed an inch. His gaze slanted to the floor. “Gratuity Tucci is Captain Oh’s preferred human, not mine.”

Hitch looked at the camera with a teasing glint in his eye. “Yes? And which of the Earthland natives are you preferring?”

Canned laughter crescendoed.

“Lucy—“ 

The canned laughter cut out with a record scratch. Smek’s focus, which had wandered out across the floor, seemed to have snapped back with jarring impact. His eyes were huge and his face had paled by several shades. The hand that didn’t grip the scepter remained dutifully glued over his mouth, as though the answer he’d barely stifled could still leap out at any second. 

Hitch stared at him with an unusually bland expression. “What?” the reporter said flatly.

“I-I mean,” with physical effort, Smek removed his hand. He gestured noncommittally with a twirl of his wrist; “—I Am Loving Lucy! That is where the laughter is from, correct? What is that, some kinda human entertainment?” Smek chuckled nervously. He shrugged his shoulders; “Only curious!”

In a split second Hitch resumed his usual peppy demeanor for the camera. “That is correct! And, for those of you who does not know, I say that in the exact intonation of the late humansperson show host Art Fleming! Say what you will about those silly Earthland natives, but they sure know how to make great entertainment! Oh—I should-to tell you about the piñata! Now that’s a fun time they get up to!”

“Piñata?“ Smek chuffed. “What do they do with it? Beat it senselessly with a stick?”

“Yes!” Hitch chirped. “Until the insides fall out! And then they eat them.” 

The laugh track blared in the background. It had the perfect little happy flavor to balance out his interviewee’s wondrously visible horror. Better yet, it covered the sound of a loud knock on a far door. It was really more of a punch, actually, and a couple of his assistants jumped and looked fearfully toward the shrouded set of stairs on the far side of the room, leading up to an upper level. 

By the sound of it, they were about out of time for the interview. The reporter winced and tugged the neck of his vest. If only he’d had the time to book a better spot, he mused with a frown. It was a little small, the location was far from superb, and that wasn’t even to mention the favor he owed the venue holder for such a late-night request.

He allowed himself a little sigh. But as soon as the track faded, he focused all his showmanship like a supercharged laser ready to blast away the final act. 

“Now we’re almost out of time, ladies and gentleboov!!” he declared to the vast audience sitting snug behind Cammy’s lense. “Get your votes in before we are through! Our great guest of garrulousness, here, is about to answer the final question! The one you has been waiting for! The one that is proving his superiority over the Captain-at-present, Oh!!”

Hitch squirmed to the edge of his seat. The reporter looked just as likely to pounce on Smek as he was to ask the question. He could hardly contain his excitement to put a cap on the biggest event in the Boovs’ history of entertainment! Sure, that really wasn’t saying much, but he took it as a proud achievement nonetheless.

He only hoped he looked perfectly handsome in the photos they’d be showing infant Boov in their mandatory Historical Context of Your Coincidental Existence class! That was his favorite one from the warming oven.

“Yes, yes,“ Smek rolled his eyes, “Let’s get this done so I can get to banishing Oh! Give me the question.”

“Right away, Captain,” Hitch grinned. 

The final question for the night was a pitch he’d been winding up for since he spotted Smek in the crater field. And when Smek hit the ball out of the field, Captain Oh would be struck square between the eyes! From a combination of human baseball reruns and Most Hilarious House Tapes, Hitch knew just how entertaining that would be!

“Here is your final question, to confirm that you really are unlikeliness to Captain Oh. Do you, Smek, hold in your regard any silly humansperson above your entire species of Boov?”

Back in the Common Dome, during Oh’s fateful address to New Boovworld, the same question had completely knocked the new Captain off his pods. Oh looked like he’d been physically struck in the face. Hitch wished he would’ve brought a camera to film the moment for CBSLZXI—News!

Maybe it was wishful thinking. But Hitch swore he saw that same, stunned expression on Smek’s face for a fraction of a second. If it was ever even there, it was gone just as fast. Smek had doubled forward to laugh. 

“Hahahaha! THAT is your final question?! You should has asked me it at the start! I could’ve used all this time to tell you all the ways that humanspersons are absolutely unbearable. Trust me, I know! The last too-many-hours I hads one with me.”

Then he sat back and laid the scepter across his pods. He massaged a palm.

“A humansperson with you? You never spoke of that,” Hitch noted with raised brows.

“I—“ Smek faltered, then he turned red. He was still staring down at his hand. “I did not see how it was important. Anyhow—all of the questions are answered! Can you process the votes already so New Boovworld can begin its forever-celebration of my return?”

“You still has not answered the final inquiry.”

“It is a ridiculous question!! But—but fine, if everyone is so immaturity, I will say it out loud!” 

Smek grabbed the scepter and jabbed it at the camera to punctuate his words:

“For all of New Boovworld! I, your rightful Captain Smek, absolutely do not care for any huma—

“AHH!!”

The scepter clattered to the floor and Smek recoiled like he’d been burned. He turned away from the camera, cradling his hand. When the reporter strained to get a glimpse at what could have caused such a reaction, Smek stuffed his hand into his pocket. His eyes darted like there were enemies hiding in every dark corner. Hitch was too surprised to say anything. 

“I—I—I…” Yellow rippled over Smek’s body. “I cannot answer…”

And then, faster than Hitch could even comprehend, Smek was standing in the middle of the set with a grin plastered on his face. He stuck a finger in the air:

“Not before the following messages,” he chimed.

Smek vanished from the set. On the far side of the room, a rushed thum-thum-thum of pods charging up the wooden stairway. A door opened, then slammed.

Everyone on set stared after him.

“Uh…” Hitch shook his head and refocused. “I mean—what are you waiting for?!” He pointed at his assistants, flaring red. “Put on some messa—“

For all those watching the show, the reporter’s angry face was curtly replaced by the sight of two Boov on a court, one holding a football. The Boov tossed it to his companion.

“Do you or a Boov you know suffer from dueteropomptostoliosis of the nostricles?” asked a narrator.

His companion ate the football.

Chapter Text

“GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF!!”

Smek shook his hand like it was a vicious creature latched onto his arm. A color he’d never seen on his own body had appeared. It flushed the skin around the bandage, and he had to wonder if the cut from the mechsuit’s tooth had gotten infected, or if there were toxins finally kicking in. They were horrible possibilities. He was desperately hoping for one of them to be true.

There was only one other explanation for the color that had spread across his hand. But that was impossible.

“Captain Oh is not like Smek!” Gratuity Tucci yelled from a sudden, inexplicable memory. “He can’t lie without turning—“

“OW!!”

Smek shouldered something, hard. He stumbled and rubbed the ache that had flared to life in his arm. A large wooden structure had gotten in the way of his panicked scramble down the hallway. It rattled from the force of the impact, and a polished object tipped forward from a high shelf. A hundred little shards scattered across the floor with the great, loud crash of a careless blunder.

His mind took another univinited hop through time, and he remembered the moment that he knocked over the Gorg egg in K-Trong’s mothership. He really should have learned how to watch where he was going by now. At least this time, there wasn’t a furious sharp-toothed monster roaring at his back. 

She didn't have any sharp teeth, anyway. 

“That vase was worth thousands!!”

A female human rushed past Smek with the brief tickle of silk pajamas on his skin. She grabbed a couple handfuls of black hair and stared in horror at the broken rubble on the floor. To Smek, the more horrifying thing was the fuzzy little long-eared animals on her feet, the ones that stared ever-forward with beady black eyes and artificial smiles. 

When she turned, every ounce of her demeanor screamed that he was about to become her brand new podwear.

“Do you know the amount of dirt I had to dig up on that museum curator to get that thing?! To this day, I can’t look at a t-rex without hearing that pathetic weasel try to explain his temporary lapse in judgment during a midlife crisis! Uuuugh!” 

There wasn’t a whole lot that Smek could claim to understand from that spiel. He did understand the way she lurched toward him, and the dead-eyed faces on her feet were screaming at him to make a run for it. But a familiar, swelling feeling in his throat required all of his effort to force down. He shoved his hands over his mouth, almost in time to cover up an involuntary physiological response.

“Ree—!”

The woman froze. “What was that? Are you…” trimmed eyebrows pinched above flashing eyes, “are you laughing at me? When I get my hands around those nostricles—!!”

“We’re making nostricle soup!” Elrod laughed.

“Hey Captain-To-Be!” Hitch piped from behind him. There was just the slightest bit of edge to his voice. It was more than enough to give Smek a jolt. He nearly flattened himself against a cool plaster wall. The reporter scrutinized him.

“What’s got you so jittery, huh? Is it Miss Georgia Cho?” He thumbed at the woman still fuming just down the hall. “Do not be scared! She is all talk!”

Georgia cried, “Excuse me?!”

“What? We are yellow journalists, it’s a compliment!” He turned back to Smek with bright flecks of irritation in his eyes. “So what is it? Why dids you put your entire future of Captain on pause, hmmm? Do not tell me you are getting the ‘stage fright’, now of all times!”

Hitch offered Smek the scepter that he’d left abandoned on the set. It felt like more of a test than an actual favor. Smek reluctantly lowered his hands from his mouth and accepted the cold metal. He looked at the scepter’s spherical ornament. 

“I-I am fine,” he said. He barely fit the words around the growing lump in his throat. For the first time, he noticed his new scepter was adorned by a perfect model of the moon. The texture of New Boovworld was rough under his thumb.

Captain Smek is quite the charm, isn’t it? Hitch said with a grin. Cammy and I can make the entireness of New Boovworld say it again!

The reporter was certainly the sleazy type, but he stuck to his promises. He put New Boovworld right in the palm of Smek’s hand, just like he’d said he would. It didn’t feel heavy at all mere minutes ago. Even now, the Boovs’ whole world felt deceptively light, if not a little cold. He couldn’t begin to understand what was weighing so heavy around him. But he knew with absolute, dreadful clarity, that no amount of running would help him escape from it.

Not that Hitch would let him get away so easily, at this point. The Boov looked ready to forcibly drag him back on set. 

“What’s holding up the show, then?” Hitch interrogated. “Did you want for-to freshen up before the big finale? Your nostricles do look a bit droopy, now that I’m looking…” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Hey, is it requiring effort to hold them—“

“They naturally stand up like this!” Smek cried. He finally managed to peel himself off the wall. The pressure in his throat temporarily receded, completely bogged down by the audacity of that implication.

It’s alright, Smek, relax! Lucy teased. If you ever wanna let your nostricles down around me, go for it! It’ll be our secret! She zipped her lips and tossed the key.

The pressure returned. Smek tried to swallow it down. “And—yes, I only need to freshen up! If you could point me to the nearest hygiene station—assuming that you have one.”

Georgia scoffed. “What, like, a bathroom? Of course I have a bathroom, it’s down the hallway on the left! But don’t think that any stray Boov is allowed to—“

He took off down the hall. The bathroom door slammed shut behind him, cutting off the human’s protests. She’d been saying something about ‘moon fleas’. There was hardly time to care. Smek raced for the toilet and doubled over right as the lump in his throat returned with a vengeance. He hoped that he just needed to puke. He couldn’t be so lucky.

“Reeeeeeeeeeee!!” he trilled. “No,” he yanked a nostricle, “stop—Reeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”

“Uh oh,” Hitch said from down the hall. “I think that might be a number three...”

“What?!!” Georgia screamed.

Their voices faded away. Smek couldn’t remember ever feeling so distressed. He snagged a few neatly-folded lavender towels from a low shelf and stuffed them in his mouth. It muted the embarrassing trills and gave him something to gnaw on. His own body was betraying him, and his mind, too. Ever since Hitch had asked that stupid, stupid question, everything started going haywire! And why, exactly? Because he didn’t know how to answer the question?

He did know how to answer it! He didn’t care about any backwards humansperson! Certainly not more than the whole species of Boov—his ticket to a lifetime of importance and adoration! What could any human offer him in place of that?

Believe it or not, Lucy sighed, I’m only trying to help you.

Who was trying to help him, now?

The panic began to subside. It left an odd taste in his mouth. Defeat, mixed with lavender dye. The dye wasn’t half bad, actually. Georgia Cho would definitely try to kill him for it, but he indulged in a few fluffy condiments. He never had the willpower to refrain from stress-eating. When Hitch knocked on the door, complete with a spoken “Knock, knock!”, Smek had an impulse to eat the entire shelf.

“Is it safe for entering?” Hitch asked, then cracked open the door to peer in. “Yikes!” he grimaced. “You look like you has been chewed up and spit out! And I would know, I used to interview scouts. Just a minute, Cho!” He squeezed in and shut the door.

Smek grabbed a towel. This time, he draped it over his face. “I need more time…for-to freshen up…” he whined.

He heard Hitch sigh. It was a long, exasperated, worn-out kind of sigh. Oh well. Smek never did have much room for pitying anyone beside himself. He was completely ready to ignore the world until he felt better. Surprisingly, Hitch didn’t make any move to shake him by the shoulders. Instead, there was a light noise when he closed the toilet lid. Hitch hopped on the fuzzy lid cover.

“I has a question, just for between you and me,” Hitch said, almost casually. “Like a secret interview!”

Smek didn’t reply. He was too smart to be baited!

“Here’s the question. Do you know why, exactly, the Boov kicked you out of Captain in the first place?”

Ohhhh boy. That was some tasty bait. Smek threw the towel off his face.

“Of course I know!” he snapped. “Captain Oh and that traitorous traffic cop, Kyle, stole the Shusher from me!”

“Stole the—? Ha! Sure, that may has been the symbolic passing of the authority, but the Boov dids not just up and throw you out because someone took your precious Shusher!”

“Clearly you were not there!”

“Everyone was there.”

“Then you should know what happened! Kyle took the Shusher from me! Then he gave it to Oh, and then all the Boov decided to think that he is the rightful Captain, when in factfulness—“

“Smek, Smek,” Hitch shook his head, “I can tell you when you really lost your spot as Captain. It was when Oh ran toward the danger, and saved the Boov from certain death with the Gorg Superchip!”

Smek frowned. This Boov was being ridiculous. Oh’s actions—though ultimately life-saving—had proved that he was an irrevocably defective specimen, just as Smek had labeled him. “But—“ he tried to argue.

“When Oh did those things, you know what he was? New and exciting, the best things in entertainment! You must-to admit that he had a fascinating new act!”

“So, what?” Smek fumed. “The Boov wanted him for Captain just because he was being a complete maniac? What stupidity!”

“Well it was not just that! Oh challenged you! Don't you remember what he and President Kyle said?”

But you are not good Captain, Oh said.

Oh is right! We need a new Captain! Kyle shouted.

He remembered everything. His superior brain didn’t give him any other choice. 

“Of course I remember,” he glowered. “What is your point?”

“When you were challenged, it was like they were saying, you are not worth your sodium chloride! You did not prove them wrong. All you said was about the Shusher! Since you could not prove your worth, the Boov threw you out for the newer model. So to speak,” he shrugged.

“Prove my worth?” Smek echoed. The words stung. An old, familiar, heavy pit in his stomach churned and chaffed. “Was I not enough worth when I brought the Boov to invade Earthland? Or when I saved the Boov so many times with my great leadership skills of running away? I—I was made to be Captain! I was made with more worth than anybody! Was that not enough?”

“Nope,” Hitch said, popping the ‘p’. “Not enough to make you worthwhile forever! But—but, hey,” he said when Smek’s nostricles dropped down his back, “now it is Captain Oh’s turn to be old news! You can-to redeem yourself and show all of New Boovworld that you are worth more. At the very leastliness, you can show that Oh is worth less! Ha!”

Hitch clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, then hopped from the lid cover onto the nearby sink countertop. He grabbed the vanity mirror and pried it off the wall. Smek was introduced to his own, miserable, blue-skinned reflection.

“I suggest ditching the blue,” Hitch noted when he handed Smek the round mirror. “You has five minutes, tops,” he warned. “My assistants are playing a commercial about a new metachrosis suppressant, and the possible adverse symptoms list will be done in that time! So finish getting fresh! Me and every other Boov in the universe will be waiting. And we cannot wait to hear your answer to my final question of the night!”

The reporter gave him a double thumbs-up and a wink. Georgia Cho was waiting right outside the bathroom door when he opened it. She tapped one of her feet against the ground with the gruesome dance of a couple limp bunny-ears. An argument flared up right when Hitch closed the door. Smek laid the mirror over his pods and sighed. This was really a terrible venue. Why would any Boov choose such close proximity with a human?

Smek certainly hadn’t. It was pure, dumb coincidence that he’d wound up stuck with Lucy Tucci. During his two days with the human, he’d never tried to prove his worth to her. He never did anything but tell her just how much he resented her presence. She could justifiably resent him right back. And she did. Lucy Tucci thought he was worthless, just like the Boov. She’d told him as much. 

As far as he could tell, there was only one meaningful difference.

Maybe you are a little worthless, sometimes. But, Lucy frowned, There’s times when you feel scared and helpless. I know what that looks like…I know what that feels like. And no matter what anyone’s worth…I don’t want them to go through that. Not ever.

The new scepter had been tossed to the side during Smek’s panicked sprint to the toilet. He picked it up, now, and reexamined the model of the moon. New Boovworld was a sizeable patch of rough textures. Somewhere in its sprawl would be Lucy Tucci. The fate of her life and that of her family, right in his hand. She’d cared that he was scared and helpless, then.

Just how scared and helpless was Lucy Tucci feeling, now?

Smek looked in the mirror. He raised up his nostricles, and prepared his final answer.

“I do not care about Lucy Tucci.”

The good news: All the blue was gone.

The bad news…

What had that reporter said about a metachrosis suppressant?

Smek palmed his face and sighed.

“Ohhhh, poomp.”

Chapter Text

Hitch…now here’s a personality plus one! He is one of the proud reporters of the broadcast station and news monopoly CBSLZXI—News! Hitch has always seen potential in the industry, but with his species in constant survival mode, it was a hard career to gain traction in. But now the Boov species is finally feeling safe and at home, so this reporter’s ambitious prospects have begun to flourish. This is much to the misfortune of anyone in New Boovworld who happens to have good entertainment value.

Hitch really stands out from the crowd, and not just because of that clever little bowtie! He’s sneaky and self-motivated, and he knows how to put on the charm to get what he wants! This Boov is also scarily efficiency at finding any juicy scrap of drama that arises in an otherwise predictable society. His constant search for the latest and greatest story often puts Boov officers in his crosshairs. In particular, Hitch enjoys his interactions with Senior Officer Shirl. As President Kyle’s right-hand helper, Shirl is always involved in the most interesting of New Boovworld’s affairs. Despite her best efforts, Hitch always manages to weasel his way into her orbit. Genuine affection for the overly serious but impressively competent Boov has begun to form in the reporter’s heart. Despite his glaring character flaws, Hitch has a benevolent side. 
Hitch’s first and most precious companion is an outdated Boov camera that escaped disassembly four hundred years ago. Affectionately named “Cammy”, she is Hitch’s ever-loyal and overly-friendly partner in crime. It is no exaggeration to say Hitch would fight a Gorg to keep his Cammy safe. She is more than a tool or a pet to him: she’s family.

Besides Cammy, Hitch has made another unlikely connection! During his time interviewing Boov at the human camps in Australia, he had a fateful encounter with an equally opportunistic journalist and news personality—a human by the name of Georgia Cho, who interviewed people for their unique abduction stories. After the invasion, Hitch and Georgia stayed in touch for mutual professional benefit. Hitch’s benefit mostly comes in the form of crashing on her couch and binging human entertainment for inspiration.

Hitch is certainly a tricky fella. He always has something up his sleeve—which you’ll see in the next chapter, as he encourages Smek toward his reclaimed Captaincy!

Miscellaneous Info—

Species: Boov

Gender: Male

Age: 63—or the equivalent of a 40 year old human

Dislikes: the dark (he has a crippling fear), the special setting on Shirl’s bubble gun (specially made for him)

Likes: Cammy, Senior Officer Shirl, drama, surprise interviews, human entertainment

Moral Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Chapter Text

“…queasiness in the second stomach, irregular vowel movements, like-for saying MAAAAHP without intentioning, along with itchiness of the pods, numbness of the nostricles…”

Several minutes ago, a Boov commercial advertising some kind of suppressant popped onto viewing devices across New Boovworld. Smek had called for a spontaneous break instead of landing his final blow against Lucy and her family. The potential adverse symptoms list of the commercial was never-ending, and it made quite the outlandish backdrop to everything else happening in Kyle's apartment.

Beside Lucy, seated on Kyle’s couch, were Tip and Oh. She was impressed she could even hear the commercial over Oh’s despaired wailing. Not bad for a thirty-three year old woman that was feeling closer to eighty by the second. 

Lucy sighed and rubbed her head. With her free hand, she sympathetically patted Oh’s back. When all of his pent-up feelings became too much for him to handle, he’d stuffed his face into Tip’s hoodie and burrowed into her arms. Not so long beforehand, Oh had tried to push away his family for their protection. It had been a misguided effort that ultimately hurt them more. But Tip didn’t hesitate to forgive him. Right now, it seemed like they were in a competition to hug the life out of each other. Tip whispered little comforts while her best friend sobbed and wailed and let it all out.

Kyle and the Big Brain Boov had other ways of handling the stress. Lucy felt somewhat grateful, since any sort of squeeze right now could make her puke. But their methods of coping weren’t any more helpful than Oh’s. Kyle paced back and forth across the room while he face-timed with Senior Officer Shirl. He asked too many questions and didn’t give her enough time to answer, all while demanding constant updates on her search for Hitch and Smek. The Big Brain Boov just laid on the floor, looking very much dead. Lucy would believe it if his eyelids didn’t occasionally twitch.

“They—they—they—” Oh hiccupped, retreating the slightest bit from Tip’s hoodie, “THEY Hhhh-A-ATE ME!! They think-for I am terrible Captain!” He snapped back into Tip’s embrace and cried even louder. His whole body shook with the effort of it.

“Awwww, buddy,” Tip cooed. She pressed her cheek against the side of his head. “The Boov don’t hate you! They just…don’t appreciate you like they should. Right, Mom?” Her green eyes darted to her mother for support.

Lucy forcibly pulled herself out of her stupor. “No, honey…they absolutely do not hate you. They’re just—just, insecure,” she said, grasping for the right way to put it. Tip’s hopeful expression dropped into an unimpressed scowl. Right…she’d probably overused that one with Tip’s middle school nemesis.

“What I mean is, they’re afraid you don’t care about them, and so they’re lashing out and being irrational.”

“EXCUSING ME??!!” Kyle cried. He finally lowered his tablet, and they got a look at the twisting combo of irritation and fear that he’d been shoving into his senior officer’s screen. “That is Boov you are talking about! We are never irrational! Humanspeople are irrational! Right Shirl?!”

From his tablet, a monotone voice replied, “President Kyle, you has not allotted me the time for-to answering a single—”

“Why has you not located Smek and the reporter yet?!! Over an hour has went since they started their frequencies!!” Kyle forgot about the humans and resumed his worried pacing.

“All Boov officers are looking! Every place in the city is looked ten times over! There are no more places for them to be sneaking. Not on the moon,” Shirl explained.

“Where else woulds they be making the interview?!”

“That is the thing. I has been using the audio’s volumetrics for creating a model of the three-dimensional space that Hitch and Smek are occupying. It is rectangular, very likeness to the architectural style of humanspeople!”

“You are implying that…that they are on Earthland?”

“Yes, I am attempting to hack into the Boov reporter’s digital history for finding any communications to Earthland, mayhaps to an unknown humansperson. But it requires of my full attentiveness.” 

The President spluttered. “But—but how—why—Earthland—humansperson, Hitch—huh?!!” 

“Exactly my thinking. I will call when I has more to tell you. Sir,” she saluted. Before Kyle could protest she ended the face-conference.

“Huh,” Tip said, and Lucy turned back toward the tv. They were explaining an increased risk for ‘tummy termites’. “That weird mustachioed newscaster might be working with a human?” She patted Oh’s shoulder encouragingly. “Hey! Your Positive Associations Initiative Normalizing Extraterrestrial Demographics must have worked pretty well! That’s some great Captain work, Captain Oh!”

To his family’s great relief, Oh’s shaking and crying began to ease into little trembles and sniffles. “You…you are really thinking so?” he whimpered.

Oh’s initiative had put holographic humans around the city of New Boovworld, like digital statues. When a Boov dared to walk up to one of the holograms, it would say something friendly and then a tasty little marble would be offered from a nearby dispenser. The program had a great reception from the Boov. Those marbles contained delicious mineral compositions that could only be found on Earth.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t taken very long for the Boov to figure out the holographic response was triggered by a motion sensor located on the ground directly underneath the smiling, friendly humans. A little bit of technological retempering caused the dispensers to spew buckets of marbles for the enjoyment of everyone in a one hundred foot radius. It also over-sensitized the motion sensors to the point where the overwhelmed circuitry melted. The human holograms were reduced to a single, frozen, twitching image continuously emitting an ear-piercing scream.

Lucy winced when she remembered Oh’s casual dinner-time report of the moon colony’s response to PAINED. The holograms were taken down, he’d assured her when she asked. Although, he noted, none of the Boov were bothered by the constant unwavering human shrieks. His species was very adaptable to non-predatory environmental stressors, he’d explained.

Suddenly Lucy realized it was probably time to leave New Boovworld.

Of course, it would take some careful wording to convince Oh of the same thing. He wanted so badly to be accepted by the Boov, but they’d turned their backs on him once again.

“You’ve done lots of great things for the Boov, Oh,” Lucy reassured the miserable Captain.

Oh finally pulled out of the hug. He wiped puddles of tears from his eyes so he could look at the older Tucci. Tip made a face when she studied the giant tear stain on her hoodie. Lucy winced in sympathy for both of them. She placed a hand on Oh’s shoulder.

“Without you, the Gorg would have chased the Boov forever—or until he eventually caught up with the mothership. You saved the whole Boov species, and you saved Earth and all humanity at the same time. After that, you kept on doing great things. You settled the Boov onto the moon, and you made it a home for them, not just a hiding spot. You worked so hard to open their minds to new people, and new relationships and ways of thinking. You did this, even after you were ignored by them, and threatened, and mistreated…”

Kyle paused in his nth attempt to face-conference Shirl again. His face was a deep blue tapestry of remorse  and regret. Even the Big Brain Boov’s face twitched into a guilty grimace, for a brief instant. Unless that was just a postmortem spasm. He was really milking the playing dead thing.

Lucy continued: “You have been an amazing Captain to the Boov. In fact, I’m completely certain you’re the best leader that your species has ever had. And I say that,” she pressed, “knowing full well that you love and care for my daughter more than anything in the world.”

A deep, bashful red colored Tip’s dark skin and she pulled her hood over her ears. “Moooom,” she groaned, but she couldn’t wrestle the smile off her face. Oh smiled, too, but it was tired.

“I worry…Smek may has said the truth. Boov Captain should care about Boov above all else. I…do not.”

“Neither does Smek,” Tip snipped. “All that jerk cares about is himself!” She shrugged defiantly at her mom’s pointed look. 

“What I am trying to say,” Lucy said, and Tip rolled her eyes at her mom’s conspicuously calm, level tone, “is that you are always going to love your family the most. That’s what family is. The Boov won’t understand that. They’ve already chosen Smek as their new Captain. Believe me, I know what a huge mistake that is. But that’s New Boovworld’s mistake to learn from. They’ve made their choice,” and Lucy drove home her ultimate point: “so it’s time for us to leave.”

“What?” Tip gawked. “But—but we can’t…we can’t just…”

“I cannot leave the Boov forever,” Oh whimpered. He hid behind his hands. “How is it possible? I am caring so much! How could the Boov be thinking that—that Smek is caring more than me?!” 

His eyes pleaded with Lucy when she gently pulled his hands away from his face. “Because,” she replied softly, “Smek is an entertainer. He knows how to put on a show. He knows how to pretend. And you don’t.”

Oh looked down at their hands, tightening his grip. New tears welled forward. “They…” he swallowed, “they scorn me for it.”

“We love you for it.” Lucy smiled. Oh gazed at her with pure astonishment.

To prove her mom’s point, Tip lunged forward and wrapped Oh in a fierce hug. Lucy joined the embrace, and Oh was the bright pink center of the Tuccis’ hug sandwich. His body squished between them like half-baked dough. He grinned so wide it must have hurt his mouth. The Tuccis shared a giggle when the last remaining member of the family joined the hug. He had sensed his exclusion and scurried to jump onto Oh’s head.

“Pig-cat!” Oh laughed. 

“Mrrrow!” Pig greeted warmly.

The family embraced each other for a few more blissful moments. Lucy was the first to pull away. She had the unfortunate task of reminding her family that they couldn’t stay hugging on Kyle’s couch forever. Speaking of Kyle—

He startled and readjusted his visor when Lucy glanced at him. The hints of pink flushing his face betrayed him when he tried to appear distracted. He pawed at his tablet.

“Shirl remains ignoring my calls,” Kyle whined.

“Stop harassing Shirl, Kyle. We’re leaving now.”

“WHAT?!" he yelped. "To Earthland? Me?? But—but listen!" He gestured weakly to the Big Brain Boov, the same one staring with dead eyes toward the ceiling. “He is the smartest of us all and he agrees that there is still hope for us! And if he is in disagreement he will say something! Right, buddy?”

A few awkward seconds passed. The only noise was from the commercial. The narrator was saying something about risks of delayed Booverty. Kyle crossed his arms triumphantly.

“See?! There are still chances for Smek to lose!”

“Dude,” Tip said. She flopped her head back against the couch. “I’m pretty sure Brainiac is actually dead. Besides, my mom is right. If we don’t leave now, Smek’s gonna banish us back to Earth anyway. If he doesn’t decide to just cram us all into that single-Boov prison that you and Oh made when you were being crazy. He’s gonna feel some sort of way about that thing.”

“But…but Smek…he cannot—”

“He’s already won the vote,” Lucy pointed out. She stood up and encouraged her kids off the couch. 

Kyle threw his arms into the air. “THAT VOTE IS NOT EVEN OFFICIAL. No Boov of authority has approved it!”

“Seriously?” Tip deadpanned. She raised a brow. “Just how official was it when a mid-level traffic cop told his entire species that Oh was their new Captain?”

While Lucy tried her best to remain considerate, Tip did her a favor and shot Kyle down with the brutal efficiency of an honest seventh grade kid. Kyle was shocked, then angry. He looked to his Captain for support. All the red on his body faded at the sight of Oh's tired resignation.

Right when it seemed like there were no more tears to be shed, the traffic cop's skin turned blue.

“Noooo…Not Earthland forever…WITH ALL THE HUMANSPEOPLE!!” Just the notion had his windpipes in a chokehold. He strangled out the words and fell to the floor in despair.

“That’s right!” Tip announced to the whole room. “Mom and me are getting your Boov butts in gear! We are out of here! That includes you, Triple-B!!” She nudged him with a foot. He remained a limp, purple sprawl. Tip looked at her mom. "I'm not dragging him."

Lucy frowned when a few too many pairs of eyes landed on her. "Well, neither am I!" she scoffed. Under her breath, she muttered, "Just because I spent the last couple of days hauling around a stubborn pain in the--"

"—AAAND FINALLY," the commercial’s narrator called, raising her voice for anyone dozing off, "if you experience thinking of ineptapalasumulation, remember: there are trained algorithmic entities that you can talk to."

The commercial faded into the news station intro. The Boovish letters for CBSLZXI—News slid into view over a rotating image of the moon. 

For better or worse. Lucy had to ask. "What is ineptapalasumulation?"

Oh looked graver than ever. "It is when-for you are having thoughts of wearing silly hats in public, when wearing silly hats is not appropriate."

"They say is it getting worse," Kyle groaned. He dragged himself back to his pods. "City life, they are saying."

"Right," Lucy sighed. "Okay." New Boovworld. She didn't know if she should be happy to leave, or clinging on for dear life.

Not that either of the Boov on the tv were going to give her a choice to stay. The camera zoomed in from a dramatically wide angle, honing in on Smek and Hitch. They'd taken their seats across from each other, and the reporter wriggled in hungry anticipation for the blaring intro to fade out.

It was time to leave. She fixed the Big Brain Boov with the sternest Mom Look she'd ever mustered. "Get up," she said, firmly. "We are all leaving. Now."

The Big Brain Boov had miraculously revived from the dead when Hitch re-addressed the whole Boov nation.

"Hello New Boovworld and welcoming back!" he cried. "Apologizing for the wait! You remember where we left off! Our special guest for the night, Soon-to-be-Captain Smek, was about to show his loyalness to the Boov by expressing his bottomless disdain for every last humansperson! Is it not the truth, Captain?"

Smek cleared his throat. "Well..." he squirmed. "See, I am only trying to think how to properly shape it all into words...because it is much difficultly to express in fullness all the bad things that I has to say. About all the humanspeople, I am speaking. There are so many negative facts to put together. You know?"

The wide smile on Hitch's face twitched into something strained. His eyes darted off-camera and he made a little gesture to his empty martini glass.

"Yes, there are certainly many bad things to say about those odd two-legged mammalian-types! But before you say more," Hitch halted Smek quickly, "I almost forgot to remember!"

The newscaster jerked his arm like he was straightening a sleeve cuff, and when he turned his wrist, a little, blue orb was pinched between his fingers. "I must-to complete my endorsement of this handy little thing!" Hitch held it out for Smek to see. The orb winked in the light like a coy little promise. "The metachrosis suppressant," he explained.

A Boov scurried into view. She pointedly avoided eye contact with the camera and filled Hitch’s martini glass with oil before rushing off camera. Hitch flicked the capsule to Smek, who lunged in his seat to catch it.

Hitch purred, "Who better to endorse the Boovs' newest breaking-through in medicine than our latest breaking-through in Captaincy?" He was greasier than the oil he was sipping.

"Ehhh..." Smek appeared unsure. With the ten-minute potential adverse symptoms list, Lucy could hardly blame him. She thought of how foolish he'd be to actually take it. They had a few more minutes to watch the interview. Lucy didn’t know why they were wasting their time.

Still, she didn’t look away. She saw the way Smek clenched the little capsule in his hand, like it was a dice he could roll to tell him his next play. She saw him lose focus, and look instead at the model of the moon adorning his new scepter. Lucy felt herself on that moon, and she could feel his giant shadow looming over her. His eyes drilled down onto the human that was helpless to his whims. He was staring at her from thousands of miles away. Lucy knew it for certain. And Smek knew for certain that she was terrified.

”Captain Smek,” Hitch said. A bit of the sleazy charm had dripped away. His patience had worn thin and he nearly glared at the Boov sitting across from him. “As the humans are saying—it is time to rip off the bandage!”

Smek blinked and opened his hand. The shiny capsule rested right on top of the Happy Mouse Kingdom bandage Lucy had taped across his palm. She was surprised he hadn’t ripped it off and thrown it away already. At this point, it had to be a reminder of the humans he so despised.

”Actually,” Smek said. “I would like to keep it on.” And he tossed the capsule into his mouth.

He swallowed conspicuously, squinting and holding his mouth in a tight line, and then grinned. An old, familiar, jabbing kind of grin. “Now, let me tell you what I think of those humanspeople! In specifics,” his eyes narrowed at the camera, at her, “let me tell you about one named Lucy Tucci.”

Chapter Text

“That stupid jerk,” Tip hissed. She held back on an artillery of much better words for the sake of her best friend. Oh said nothing. His skin looked hot to the touch.

Lucy bristled. Betrayal should have been a familiar flavor by now. But getting directly attacked by Smek—after everything she’d done for him—made her crave another strawberry soda, just so she could wash out all of that bad taste. He couldn’t just claim his victory and brush her off like an impersonal villain. No: he had to drag her through the dirt first.

“I have said it before about how backwards are the Earthland savages!” Smek called dramatically to New Boovworld. “Now I has met one up and closely, and let me tell you, I did not even know how right I was!” 

“I alerted my assistants of our escapement to Earthland!” Kyle said. He showed his tablet and the load of Boovish nonsense on its screen. “They are readying the vehicles and making last preparations for the safetiness of our loyal supporters! We can be leaving very soon.”

”Thank you…” Lucy stared at the tv. Smek had jumped off his seat and now he paced around the set, flourishing the scepter and giving exclusive new details of his trip through space. All the while, the reporter sipped on his oil with a little, contented smile. Hitch’s eyes trailed Smek with the easy confidence of someone watching their bowling ball roll toward a guaranteed strike.

”…she had the chance to go with the Sheps straight back to her beloved humanspawn, but she did not have the smarts to take it!” Smek mocked. “Instead she was pulling me by the nostricles,” he yanked on his own nostricles with a scowl, “and dragging me from the murderous fluffsters and fighting with them all at once! And that is not even beginning with her irrational affection of the Gorglings…”

Someone touched Lucy’s arm, and that little feeling brought her back to Kyle’s living room. She hadn’t noticed how she’d clenched her jaw and curled her fingers. She tried to relax before she glanced down at her daughter. It seemed her kids had pulled themselves together faster than her. Tip gripped her arm and gazed at her meaningfully. Oh was right at his best friend’s side. Just the sight of them replaced the hard-edged anger in her chest with soft, glowing pride.

“Tipmo—Mimom,” he corrected with the ghost of a smile. “All is ready for us to leave.”

Smek cried, “The violent little gremlins could have torn both of us apart for their pleasure! One even left me with grievous injury! And she thought she could make things better with primitive humanstape!” He scoffed and waved his hand to show everyone the bandage.

“Let’s go back home,” Tip said. “To Earth. We can stay with Aunt Linda—or a hotel,” she mended quickly when Lucy visibly tensed again. “I love hotels! So does Oh! Right, Oh?”

Oh nodded. “Little soaps.” He liked to eat them. “And chlorine soup!”

”I cannot even exaggerate it!” Smek chuffed. “Of all the unruly native beings I’ve had the misfortunate of meeting…Lucy Tucci is the most unruliest of them all!”

Keeping Oh from drinking the pool would be a task. Their lunch for the night would probably be takeout, if they didn’t just raid the nearest snack machine. Maybe they could find a good movie on cable. One about aliens that just vaporized people instead of insulting them on live tv for the entertainment of millions.

”A hotel,” Lucy repeated. “I think that’s a great idea.”

”So you wonder if there are any of the humans that I hold in my regard! And above my very own species! Well let me give you my final answer!”

“Time to go,” she said. She was done wasting her time with Smek’s petty game. All there was left to do was get her family to safety.

”I will tell all how I think of Lucy Tucci!”

Kyle nodded and gestured. “Yes, to-follow me!” He hurried off toward the door leading out into the greater tower. The Big Brain Boov followed right behind his president. His head shifted and he gnawed on his fingers. Probably, he was computing all the ways that Smek’s vengeful coup could still reach them on Earth. 

“What do ya think of this-here truth—you backwards human?” he nearly spat.

Lucy froze in the middle of guiding Tip and Oh out the door. It had only just opened, the sliding disks rolling aside to reveal the wide hallway beyond. Kyle noticed the shift in her mood as though she’d actually changed color in his peripheral. His front pods hovered over the threshold and the Big Brain Boov nearly rammed into him. Kyle regarded her nervously, like she were some kind of remotely detonated explosive. If that were the truth, Smek had certainly worn out the button.

“Lucy Tucci is nothing but the rest of them—simple and stupid! If I never see her again, it will be too soon!”

”Mimom,” Oh said, and then Tip charged past both of them toward the door. 

At first, Lucy thought her daughter was taking the lead out of Kyle’s apartment. Then she grabbed the lamp, the long, curling, spindly thing that looked more like an oversized twisty straw.

”Hey!” Kyle yelped like he wasn’t leaving his apartment and the entirety of New Boovworld forever. Tip ignored him. She swiveled and strode back toward the tv. “Careful with that! It was costly!”

“I do not care for her. Not the tiniest, itty-bittiest amount!”

“Gratuity!” Lucy made a weak attempt to grab Tip’s shoulder, but she escaped her reach. Tip braced the lamp like a baseball bat and prepared for a swing. “Tip! What are you doing?!”

”What do you think I’m doing?” Tip snapped. “I’m giving a proper goodbye to—“ Her body seized like she’d been physically frozen. The lamp froze inches away from the Boovish television’s screen. For an irrational second, Lucy thought Kyle had used some kind of advanced tech to freeze her in time.

Then Tip spoke. “Oh. MY. GOD.” A shrill, ringing crash reverberated through the room when the lamp hit the polished floor. “Oh my god!” 

“And that is the honest truth,” Smek grinned.

”What’s wrong?” Lucy grabbed Tip’s shoulder and brushed a curl from her face. “Are you okay?”

“Mom,” Tip said. She pointed at the tv, at the scene that Lucy wanted nothing more than to ignore. “Look! He’s--"

"Green!!" Oh cried. "Kyle! Look-for! He is green!!"

"What?!"

"It's not a possibility!" the Big Brain Boov argued, but even his vast intellect couldn't argue against his own eyes.

Tip and all three Boov crowded around the tv. They shouted and pointed and shook each other's shoulders. Lucy remained silent. She covered her mouth and stared at the Boov on tv as he kept running his mouth. Apparently, he was too busy talking to notice the new onslaught of bubble-polls spewing up from the floor. They floated into the circular icon of Oh's face, and the bar chart for the Captain-at-present's votes began to rise steadily upwards. Smek's own vote-count sank closer to the ground like the bar had landed on quicksand. Behind Smek, Hitch choked on his drink and waved his hands desperately. 

"Smek," he whisper-yelled. "Smek!"

But the only person Smek had any interest in listening to was himself. "Now enough on that human! She is of no significance." His lime-green skin nearly glowed when he said it. "What's most important is my feelings for New Boovworld! I care so much for all the Boov, more than anything else. Certainly more than Captain Oh! He may as well has said it aloud that the Gratuity Tucci is more to him than his species. And what-for? Saving him at the Great Antenna when all the Boov tried to erase him forever? What an insult to his genetically ingrained Boov logic! I mean, just get over it!"

Smek laughed and shrugged, glancing around off-camera for anyone who agreed. If there was any awkward silence, Smek didn't waste time covering it up.

"Not even-to mention all those ridiculous plans for making Boov friends with other species! Like the humanspeople. What did they ever do for us? I mean—beside of aiding with the end of Boovs’ millennia-long feud with killer Gorg fiends. Yes, that was Captain Oh and the Gratuity Tucci, wasn't it? Eh. It is in the past, like all my Shushing. For temporarily, at least." He mock-swung the scepter and squinted, like he was imagining what sound it would make when it hit a Boov head. "Too many Boov are always talking too much."

“Alright alright!” Hitch jumped from his seat and grabbed the scepter in his hands before Smek could make any more swings. A painfully fake smile faltered when he glanced over his shoulder at the polls. Oh had nearly overtaken Smek. He looked at the camera and held on firmly when Smek yanked stubbornly on his scepter. “Your Soon-to-be Captain, everybody! You don’t need any more talking to see how much he cares!”

The reporter tried to made a slashing motion for the camera to cut out. His one-handed grip gave Smek the opportunity to rip the scepter out of his grasp. Hitch nearly toppled forward, but Smek saved his fall when he shoved the gilded moon hard between his eyes.

”Don’t Shush me!” he snapped. “Not when I has got one more thing to say!” And Smek turned again to the millions of Boov glued to their screens. “You wanna know how much I care? This much!”

Smek spread his arms wide. If Lucy didn’t know any better, she would think he were gesturing to his own green skin. Then his eyes narrowed. Smek jabbed a finger at the camera. 

“So chew. On. THAT.”

”WHAAAAT?!” Tip half-laughed, half-shrieked. 

Lucy was still in a daze. Somehow, the ringing from Kyle’s pocket managed to grab her focus. She watched as the president pulled his tablet from his pocket and stared at the screen. Shirl was calling him. Kyle excused himself, but his little mutter was lost on everyone except for Lucy. She looked back at the tv while Kyle had his private conversation.

Against all odds, the sleazy reporter was still trying to save the interview. He’d refreshed his oil martini and now he contained Smek under the guise of a side-hug. “The metachrosis suppressant may has been a lack of proper judgement! There are too many potential side-effects, like, ehm—emotional instability! And sudden urges to Shush! As well as—would ya believe it?—uncontrollable color changes, like say, green—“

Smek leaned over and spit in his oil. Hitch was so startled that he let him go. The reporter turned red. “HEY!” he snapped. “That is going too far…” He trailed off, and remained staring into his glass as Smek wiped off his black-trimmed vest.

”This was fun,” Smek decided. “But now…” he double-checked the polls. “Yyep. Time to run—bye!!” 

He disappeared in a purple blur off set. The camera zoomed in curiously toward the martini glass when Hitch offered a look. His face was a mix of anger and awe.

Sitting neatly on top of the drink’s dark surface was a shiny, blue orb—the metachrosis suppressant. Tip and Oh and the Big Brain Boov were shouting and jumping and dancing. Kyle remained oddly quiet. He’d ended the call, by the little beep Lucy heard a minute prior.

”YES!!” Tip cheered. “GO SMEK!! SMEK FOR THE WIN!!” When the Big Brain Boov tried to explain that Smek had actually lost, Tip cut him short with a hug-tackle. He cried for help when Oh joined the fray of affection.

“Kyle,” Lucy said. “What did Shirl have to tell you?”

Kyle rubbed his brow. His eyes were huge. “Senior Officer Shirl has located Hitch and Smek. They are at the residence of one Georgia Cho.”

Now she turned to him fully. Lucy didn’t know what kind of look she had on her face, but it made Kyle squirm like a pinched insect. “What did she say she’s gonna do?”

”Shirl said she would-to handle it. She said-for…” Kyle grimaced. “She hung up before I could say much! But she said Disgraced Former Captain Smek is not getting away from her…Not again,” he shrugged weakly.

Lucy nodded blankly. There wasn’t much else for her to do. From what she knew of Shirl, she wasn’t anything like Smek. Shirl told the truth.

Chapter Text

”So you know Hitch, huh?”

Georgia Cho lounged in her silk pajamas and sipped on wine. The Boov sitting on the loveseat across from her silently nodded.

”Right…And, what did you say your name was?”

This Boov definitely hadn’t told Georgia her name. The alien had been eerily silent since she appeared in the living room like an apparition. Georgia wanted to be frustrated, but honestly, she was too intrigued. And a little frightened. Georgia believed in charms and magic and auras—and this Boov’s aura was very unlike Hitch’s. It was muted and mysterious, but not the kind of mysterious that forcibly kept any secrets.

”Senior Officer Shirl,” she replied.

“Oh—Shirl!” Georgia snapped her fingers and sat up on the recliner. “I know you! About you,” she corrected quickly. “Hitch talks about you all the time! He’s a real big fan—if you know what I mean.” She raised her eyebrows like it was typical girls’ night drama.

Shirl’s brows remained a strict, hard line above her eyes. “I would prefer not to know,” she replied.

”You’d prefer…not to know something?” The journalist tried to compute. She sighed. This Boov really was no fun. “I guess you don’t strike me as a big truth-seeker. What are you here for, then? Hitch will be thrilled when he comes back upstairs.”

”Thrilled?”

”You know—like, excited? Adrenaline?” Georgia tried.

“Ah. Adrenaline, with the fear response. Yes, there will be much thrilling.”

Then came a long, musing sip of wine. Georgia hummed and nodded, savoring the cherry flavor. There were subtle hints of vanilla. She swallowed. “So, um…What?”

”GEORGIA CHO!!”

The Boov from before, the one that had broken Georgia’s favorite vase, came crashing onto the scene. He lunged out of the hallway. “Georgia Cho! I’m needing to steal I mean borrow your humansvehic—“ The green on his skin got blasted away by yellow when he met eyes with Senior Officer Shirl. “Uh oh,” he grimaced when the other Boov hopped off the loveseat. She removed a bagel-shaped device from around her arm. “Wait-now…Hold on!”

Smek stuck up his hands.

Oooh, this was interesting. These Boov weren’t friends. Georgia watched over the lip of her wine glass as she took another long, indulgent drink.

“I am leaving now, for forever banishment!” Smek promised. Shirl hummed. Was that a hum, or was it more of a growl? Maybe Georgia had watched too many of those big cat documentaries. She didn’t even know why she watched them. She always had to turn off the tv when the lion got too close to the gazelle. Her hand twitched when Shirl took a couple of steps closer to Smek. Belatedly, she realized she was reaching for the off-button on the remote.

“You hads your chance to be banishment. It was your choice not to take it. Now there is only one option left for you,” and Shirl adjusted a dial on her bagel-thingie.

”WAIT!” Smek cried and shrank in his vest.

”Wait,” Georgia squinted. “Is that bagel-thingie a gu—“

An annoyingly high-pitched scream rang in Georgia’s ears. Apparently it was her own scream, because it cut out as soon as she shoved her hand over her mouth. A red bubble had shot from Shirl’s erasure gun. Georgia didn’t think a bubble could look that hostile. When it popped in Smek’s face, he’d readily crumpled to the ground. His arms were laid out at his sides and his eyes were closed.

”Is—is he dead?!” Georgia gasped. She felt sick. Another sip of wine settled her stomach.

She really wished she would’ve thought to grab her camera, this would’ve definitely made it national.

Before Shirl could answer, Hitch’s voice shouted from the basement.

”SMEK!! Smek, I swear to all things related to math and science!” He stormed down the hallway. “When I get my hands around those nostricles I’m gonna—“

Hitch stumbled upon Smek’s limp form. He looked between Shirl and the Boov at his pods.

“Oooh,” he winced in sympathy. “Special setting.” He turned and screamed, “IT’S THE BUZZ!!”

A reverse-avalanche of panicked Boov poured up from the basement and stampeded through the living room. They deftly avoided Shirl, who was more focused on her tablet. Georgia screamed at the pure number of little purple aliens running past. She curled protectively around her wine glass.

”Please stop screaming,” Hitch said, squeezing cautiously around Shirl while she remained focused on messaging someone on her tablet. “You are going to make my mouth water. I’m really craving a marble.”

Before he could take off after the others, Georgia growled and lunged forward. Hitch complained when she snatched his arm.

“Not so fast!” she snarled. “I’ve been through too much today! A bunch of nasty little aliens just infected every last inch of my house! One of them broke my most expensive vase! And now he’s dead! On my rug!!”

“But—he is not—”

”Shut up!” Georgia stuck a finger in his face. “I held up my end of the bargain! You know what you promised me!” She let him go. He rubbed his arm and pouted. “I want information! Information on the Boov that was spotted in Chicago, the one that rescued a whole apartment complex from a fire started by delinquent kids! If I can report on all the missing details, I’ll make it to national television!”

“The apartment of Lucy Tucci?” Shirl asked. Two heads whipped toward her. “I was the Boov. What do you know of it?”

Hitch smiled and gestured to the officer.

”There is your information. Cammy!” he called, and then he darted off toward the front door. An old Boov camera whizzed by after its master, emitting a happy whir.

Georgia stood up and approached the remaining (conscious) Boov. Shirl regarded her bunny slippers with great suspicion.

“You…you have all the details I need!” Georgia grinned. “If you tell me the full story, I won’t even report you for the callous murder!”

”What is the murder?”

“That is the murder.” Georgia gestured to Smek.

“Oh,” Shirl replied. “I haves done this murder to Hitch many times.”

”Isn’t that the dream? But, listen, Shirl. I need you to tell me everything.” She sat on her knees. Mostly to be at the Boov’s eye-level, but she wasn’t above begging to get those juicy details. Shirl hummed, and this time Georgia was ninety percent certain she wasn’t about to shoot anyone.

”You said of ‘delinquent kids’. You know who conducted the attack? It is not my jurisdiction, but…for the sake of Captain Oh and Lucy Tucci, I would be appreciative of knowing. For aiding them,” Shirl explained.

”Oh, do I know who did it. It’s already one of the biggest stories in the world! And let me tell ya, when that Lucy Tucci comes out of hiding, she’s gonna have a huge plate of moola a la mode!”

Georgia rubbed her fingers together to signify money. The Boov stared at her. “You will not create enough friction for warmth,” Shirl pointed out.

The human sighed, then smiled again. “You wouldn’t believe the sorts of fires I can start with the right kind of tinder. And I can make one that blazes for the benefit of Lucy Tucci, the Captain Oh guy—everyone, really! All I need is what you know. And what you need is what I know. So how about a little trade?”

”I can see how you and Hitch are companionable.”“Is that a yes?”

“One I hope not to regret. Who is the fire-starter?”

”A kid that likes to go by Curly was the ringleader. Stupid nickname, I think, but I don’t blame him for using it. His real name is worse, somehow. Emerson. Emerson Landry. The Landry Landries.” She almost drooled saying it.

Shirl squinted. “That name is of significance?”

When Georgia rubbed her hands together, Shirl frowned at another futile attempt to make sparks.

“Oh, it’s of significance, alright! His dad’s only the slimiest real estate mogul in the Midwest! In the business, we call him Dirty Landry. He’s the bread and butter of yellow journalists. The guy we pray to when we lose our car keys! This guy’s got almost as much paper in bad press as he’s got paper in cash. His kid nearly burning down a populated residence is the last thing he needs, and he’ll do anything to wipe that dirt clean. So when Lucy Tucci finally comes out of hiding—well. Let’s just say, that woman’s finally got something good coming her way.”

On the ground behind Shirl, Smek groaned and rubbed his head. Georgia startled. She leaned over to look at him. “He’s alive?”

“Yes,” Shirl replied. She pawed at her tablet. “But I still has some good news to deliver to Captain Oh.” She glanced up. “What was this bready-buttery’s name?”

Georgia smiled. Her mouth was red from the wine. It looked like she’d already siphoned the life out of this headliner story.

“Daniel Landry.”

Chapter Text

Two Weeks Later . . .

On the outskirts of New Boovworld, overlooking a sporadic landscape of Koobish crater fields, sat a squat, dome-shaped building. Compared to the marshmallow-stacks of Boovish skyscrapers soaring beyond its silhouette, this structure appeared to be a little pimple. Appropriately so, seeing how it represented a blemish on the face of an otherwise fairly polished society. This was the one and only detention center in the Boovs’ moon colony, and it served to contain one individual—New Boovworld’s self-proclaimed inventor of running away.

Considering Smek’s admittedly impressive talents of running away, Lucy had been surprised to see the generous, open yard surrounding the prison. To be more accurate, she’d been astonished to see that the only barrier between the jail yard and freedom was a fence that looked more like the frothy topping of a cappuccino. Fizzy bubbles stacked in a full circle around the prison. When Lucy and her family had flown overhead of the fence in one of Oh’s crafts, she’d asked him what kept someone from just running through.

“The stopper is being tremendous pain,” he replied like it was obvious.

It wasn’t overtly obvious, but she decided to be equal parts perturbed and satisfied with that answer.

The Tuccis had come to Smek’s prison to tie up a loose end. Until recently, a big tangled yarn-pile of loose ends had taken up their lives. But everything was on its way to getting straightened up, even tied into neat little bows. Immediately following Smek’s arrest, the residents of New Boovworld had given their honest apologies to their Captain. They finally agreed to fix the moon’s orbit, returning the moon—and subsequently, Earth—back to normal.

On Earth, a flashy international news story captured eyes, hearts, and minds across the entirety of the planet. As explained in juicy detail by journalist and news reporter Georgia Cho, a heroic Boov by the name of Shirl had risked life and limb (eight separate limbs, to be exact!) to save an entire apartment complex of helpless people from a devastating fire. The headliner story, combined with the Boovs’ reversal of the moon’s orbital path, had placed the once-despised alien species on humanity’s good side. For the most part, at least. Many were still waiting for the Boov to acknowledge that they’d been completely negligent of the human race, once again.

But the harassment of the Tucci family had finally ceased. The news story had also come with plenty of accusations against Daniel Landry, whose son had started the apartment fire. With some direct pressuring from Georgia Cho and her news companion, Hitch, he’d paid for the reconstruction of the Tuccis’ apartment, and offered them a temporary place to stay at one of his properties: a beautiful cabin, right on Lake Michigan. Tip complained it was too quiet. Lucy had been reveling in the peace.

However, there was still much to be done. More pieces to fall into place, so they could fully move on from the chaos of their last month.

Inside of the prison, on the uppermost level as Lucy understood it, was the security center. It looked like a NASA control panel lost a fight with the children’s bead maze from her dentist’s waiting room. Bubbles sped along tracks of wires and tubes that snaked in and out of the console. The single guard was entirely focused on a round monitor as he pawed at a million different buttons and gadgets. On the screen, the highly pixelated graphics showed—what looked like—a Boov fleeing through a maze away from several floating Gorg masks. It looked like Pac-man.

If Lucy didn’t know better, she would’ve thought the guard was playing a game, but by the Boov’s steely-eyed focus it must have been a lot more important than all the video monitors honeycombing the curved wall in front of him. He remained enraptured in his work as the Tuccis had their conversation.

“Are you completely sure you want to talk to Smek by yourself?” Tip asked. “We can still come with you.”

”Yes, or I coulds send the guard for delivery of Captain decision,” Oh pointed out.

The guard grunted. Either to mark his acknowledgment, or because he’d narrowly turned a corner in time to avoid one of the speedy Gorg masks.

Lucy replied, “Don’t worry, I’m certain. I already volunteered to be the one to tell him everything.”

”You didn’t have to,” muttered Tip.

“Which is why it’s called volunteering,” Lucy smirked, and Tip rolled her eyes.

”You know what I mean! I just don’t want Smek trying to get under your skin.”

”Boov are non-parasitic,” Oh said with squinty eyes. “Beside of, there are many cameras for the observations of all things happening. We will be closely monitoring everything."

Lucy glanced at the impressive collection of monitors taking up the wall that arched overhead. They seemed to capture every space from every possible angle. She imagined having her conversation with Smek while invisible eyes watched from all around.

”Actually,” Lucy countered, “I’m gonna need you to turn off all the cameras. Otherwise I’ll be…itchy,” was the best way she could think of to put it.

“What?” Tip yelped. Oh got all wide-eyed before he tried to turn his expression into something stern and, well,

”Non-negotiating!”

Oh crossed his arms. “Smek must be under observation while conversing with Mimom. This is Captain orders! There is no arguing about this!” he insisted.

“Aww, sweetie, you’re completely right,” Lucy cooed, and a hint of orange betrayed Oh’s serious face. Then she crossed her own arms and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not negotiating and I’m not arguing. Turn off all the cameras so I can talk to Smek in private. Please.”

Her kids felt obligated to whine and complain, but in the end, Lucy’s motherly authority trumped Oh’s Captain card. He reluctantly ordered the guard to power off the monitors. The guard had become all hunched shoulders as he really honed in on his work, but a few quick adjustments to the console turned the monitors into dark mirrors. They reflected a whole lot of worry back at her kids, who anxiously regarded the blank screens.

”I’ll be fine,” Lucy promised. “What’s the worst that Smek could do?”

Tip’s foot scuffed the floor. “I dunno. Maybe he could kidnap you and steal you away from your family for two days straight, and almost get you eaten by the Sheps, or stranded in space forever.”

“Or Shushing you with a club,” Oh’s skin flared red, “even though you are a human with a non-cartilaginous skull!”

In the context of things, they didn’t have the strongest arguments against a Boov who was currently under lock, key, and bubble inside a detention center. But Lucy could not disregard their very well-deserved anger. She still had her own anger over the events that had played out because of Smek’s disregard and cowardice. Even still—she would not be here at all if her family didn’t spend two weeks deciding if he was worth a second chance. 

Maybe two weeks hadn’t been enough to make that decision. Lucy had allowed Tip and Oh to lead in all of the discussions they’d had. Now, in the face of her kids’ lingering resentment, Lucy wondered if the “Captain decision” they’d made wasn’t so adamant as they had both insisted.

”If either of you are having any second thoughts about this, I won’t hesitate to listen,” Lucy reassured them. “Both of you have every right to be angry…We all do. There’s no shame in changing your minds. After all…this is, it’s all a lot. There’s no wrong way to feel about it.”

Tip and Oh looked at each other. Without saying a single word, they had an entire conversation. They simmered down, and by the time they looked at Lucy, the worst of their anger had steamed off of their shoulders.

”…No, we haven’t changed our minds,” Tip relented. “That last thing Smek did before getting arrested…it was pretty cool. And he made it pretty clear…in his own way…that he cares about you. But he’s still Smek, so it’s hard to trust him not to be a total jerk to you if we give him the chance.”

“I appreciate your concern, Turtlebear,” Lucy replied with a warm smile. “But I know how to take care of myself, so you don’t have to worry about me. There’s nothing Smek can say or do that I won’t already be expecting.”

Her kids nodded, but they still didn’t look entirely comforted. She suggested, “While I’m talking to Smek, why don’t you two go and do something out in the city? There has to be something to keep you busy.”

As she’d expected, her daughter’s first instinct was to shoot down that idea. However, Oh got a thoughtful look.

”I haves been meaning to meet with Friend-Kyle for the arrangement of official Boov apologies transmission to humanspeople of Earthland,” said Oh. “Tip and I can dropping him by a visit!”

”Seriously, Oh?” Tip griped. “You’re still on about that apology? The Boov already fixed the moon’s orbit! Everything is back to normal! There’s no need for you to do anything else.”

Oh shook his head. “It is likes when I was traveling with Tip during Earthland invasion. I was not being a proper friend, and could not-to calling you Tip until I said the sorries for the Boovs’ hurtful actions. It is the same-now for between Boov and humans. The Captain must be apologizing for all the bad effects of orbital change, for moving forward as friends.”

“The orbit change wasn’t even your fault,” Tip groaned. “You shouldn’t be the one putting his face out there for the apology! Nobody on Earth even knows you’re the Boovs’ new Captain, and if everyone finds out then we’re never gonna be left alone again! There’ll be politicians and news people and—I dunno, presidents probably, and they’ll all be pounding on our door! No amount of beef broth balloons will be able to drive them off, either.”

Lucy frowned. She’d almost forgotten about the beef broth balloons and the dog pack attack. To think that it wasn’t even on the roster for the strangest events of her past month.

“I am in agreement that things will be much different,” Oh replied sadly. “But I haves learned it is very important for the Captain to be speaking to Boov and humans alike. Or Boov will think they are not cared for, and humans will think that Boov are not caring for anyone else.”

Ever since Oh had become Captain, he had done his best to be a good leader while also keeping himself outside of the spotlight. Lucy knew how much he wanted to live a regular life with his new family. And she also knew how much he wanted to do right by humans and Boov alike, and foster a bond between the two species. After all the trouble that had unfolded on Earth and New Boovworld, Lucy felt increasingly doubtful that Oh would be able to juggle both of those dreams at once.

Tip groaned and gave her mom a pleading look. “Can you tell Oh he’s wrong and to stop thinking about that stupid apology?”

”You are the one that is wrong! I am completely reasonable! It is not stupid!”

By the way their faces screwed up, her kids were right on the precipice of a petty no-holds-barred sibling argument. Lucy waved her hands.

”Hey! Hey! Nobody is wrong, and nothing is stupid! We still have a lot to talk about, as a family. But I can only worry about one thing at a time! Please just—“ Lucy sighed and brushed her hands through her hair. “Just promise me you’ll both get along while you’re visiting Kyle? He’s got a fragile heart.”

Tip and Oh straightened themselves out quickly. Suspiciously quickly. As soon as Lucy had sighed, Tip had given Oh a hard nudge, and they both looked at the floor.

”We promise,” Tip pouted.

”Yes, Mimom.”

”And Oh won’t even try to un-promise this time.”

They had a withering little side-eye moment, but other than that, they’d pretty much dropped the argument. It was another one of those changes Lucy had noticed ever since their lives had (sort of) returned back to normal. Tip and Oh had become extremely aware of Lucy’s subconscious stress indicators. They tried their best to keep her relaxed, and Lucy didn’t know if she felt more grateful or embarrassed about it.

When it came down to it, at least it gave her an edge when she needed her kids to behave and do what she asked them to. Lucy wasn’t above taking advantage of some shortcuts.

“I’d really appreciate it if you kept yourselves busy until I’m done here,” she said. “Don’t even worry about Smek. I can handle—“

”NOOOOO!” 

The guard cried out and yanked on his nostricles. A flashing screen indicated something had gone wrong with his work on the monitor.

Lucy braced for chaos. ”Does—does that mean something bad?”

”Yes,” he whined. “I never pass this level of Nasty Boov-Attacking Gorg!”

“It—“ Oh raised a finger, “it is renamed to Nasty Boov-Attacking ‘Clones’ of Gorg.”

Tip squinted. “So…you’ve just been playing a game this whole time?”

“It is entertainment for uneventful job,” the guard explained with a pout.

On the monitor, in the same highly pixelated graphics, stood Captain Smek and the generic Boov player. The Boov letters were hard to read, but it looked like one of the retro GAME OVER screens from the games Tip played on occasion. Captain Smek bomped the player over and over again with the Shusher:

”SHUSH. SHUSH. SHUSH,” the game chided.

Oh grimaced. “It is a relic of the past Captaincy…”

”What were you saying about handling Smek?” Tip snorted. She gave her mom a sassy look. “You still sure about that?”

Lucy stared at the screen. “Completely,” she lied. “Just show me how to get to his cell…”

"SHUSH. SHUSH. SHUSH.”

”…and I’ll get this over with,” she sighed.

Chapter Text

Until now, Lucy had been under the impression that the Boov were a naturally minimalistic species. Oh, of course, was the familiar exception to this rule. But even his overly decorated bedroom had some undeniable method to the madness. This…this was just…

Well. Messy would be a gross understatement. This looked less like the jail cell of a Boov, and more like the nest of an oversized packrat. Smek was away from his cell at the moment; from what Oh had described, he was pretty much a free-range inmate. That gave Lucy free range to thoroughly judge his decorating choices.

“What kind of Boov needs this many footballs?”

Lucy tried to picture a Boov playing football, but her mind came up blank. She didn’t blame her own lack of imagination, either.

Footballs were just the start. Traffic cones and plastic yard flamingos vied for space in a battle of orange and pink. Stray rolls of toilet paper left white streaks of tissue across the floor; Ultra Soft seemed to grow like mold here. There looked to be some alien houseplants that could probably eat weed killer and live. Bubble-capsules of similar treasures (or over appreciated junk) hovered near the ceiling like loose party balloons. They drifted around aimlessly, billiard balls in slow motion when they bumped and scattered.

Lucy struggled to take stock of everything in this eclectic garage sale of a jail cell. When a vacuum cleaner started up down the hallway, she glanced over in surprise. She’d walked through the brightly colored hallways—which looked and felt like the interiors of rubber hoses—and she hadn’t seen anyone before arriving at Smek’s cell. She wondered who could be vacuuming, although her curiosity faded quickly.

Instead, Lucy focused her attention on the strange-looking structure on the leftmost side of the cell. It was mostly bowl-shaped, but with a flat bottom—like a giant wok. Lucy decided to investigate.

As it turned out, the wok-thing was a bed of Boovish design. Filling up the bottom were pillows from Earth, and laying across the pillows was a well-loved roll of bubble wrap. The whole thing was squished and malformed without a bubble left to pop. It kind of reminded Lucy of Tip’s old teddy bear—the one Lucy “sent to a teddy bear sanctuary”, because the poor thing was all threads, and she’d had some misguided need to put it out of its misery.

She chuckled to herself. Smek’s bed really reminded her of some coddled toddler’s crib, and she knew him well enough not to be all that surprised. By some old, nostalgic instinct, she straightened out a couple pillows. Right at that moment, the vacuum switched off in the hallway right behind her.

Lucy hadn’t even noticed that the mysterious Boov had gotten so close. She got the feeling that they weren’t expecting a human visitor. She prepared to explain herself as she turned around.

”Uh, hello, I’m—“

”Lucy Tucci,” Smek remarked, wide-eyed and slack where he stood on top of the vacuum cleaner’s foot. 

“Smek,” Lucy parroted dumbly.

She’d been caught off guard. She knew by the pale shade of Smek’s complexion that the feeling was mutual. Hopefully he wouldn’t run off, the way he had from the Common Dome—more than one time.

The shock of seeing Smek had already blasted away any misplaced sentimental feelings. Now, as the surprise faded, a familiar pool of resentment welled in her chest. It must have seeped through on her face, because Smek’s nostricles drooped backward to the same effect of a guilty dog pinning its ears. He hunched a little on top of the vacuum cleaner.

“Why-for are you here?” he squeaked. “You are not still thinking of animalistic violence?”

Lucy recalled their very last interaction. She could barely remember the things she said to him, but Smek had that perfect memory, and he could probably hear her screaming those threats right now. Shirl wasn’t here to get in between them this time. Right about now, Smek probably missed the officer that got him stun-gunned and arrested, and a petty little part of Lucy was very amused by the thought.

Of course, she would’ve never come here just to frighten Smek. She hummed at his question. “Not rabid, remember? And for the record, I only lost my composure once after everything you put me through, so I think I deserve some credit. Besides—you’re the dangerous criminal here, not me.”

Lucy hadn’t meant to chuckle on that last line, but looking at the Boov in front of her, it felt like pure comedy. Smek’s terrified stare eased into an offended glare.

“Then why do you waste your time visiting the maniac Boov, hmmm?” He hopped off the vacuum cleaner and gave it a couple pets, like it needed to be soothed. Belatedly, Lucy realized that he’d ridden it down the hall. “If you are not here to attack on me, then—you are here to insult me! To put the wound on the salt!” he accused. “You will tell me again I am worthless! That I have nothing left!”

“You have a pretty nice vacuum,” Lucy noted.

The Boov had been gaining some traction in his whiny little rant, but that knocked him off balance. He blinked and looked at the cleaning appliance in question.

“…Yes," he agreed after some hesitation. "It is a noble beast.”

“You’ve got plenty of other stuff, too.” 

Smek pouted. “They hardly let me bring any of my things…”

“You must have had a big apartment.”

“Not really,” he said, and it must have been the truth, because he wasn’t the Boov to neglect any bragging rights.  

Now Smek frowned and regarded her uneasily. He wasn’t scared, and she hadn’t let him get too angry, either. Lucy had come here with a tangible purpose; now she finally had her opening.

“Well,” Lucy sighed, “unfortunately, I’m not here to give you tips on dealing with your…hoarding situation. I’m here on behalf of Captain Oh, actually. He and Gratuity and I have spent the last couple of weeks talking about you, and if we want to change your sentence. Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said. “You have a lot to make up for. We never forgot about that for a second. But we all agreed that locking you up isn't going to make up for anything, and it’s not going to do much good for anyone else, either—“

“I am letting out of jail?!” Smek cried, flashing orange. “WAIT—can I bring my things?" He ran into the cell, then froze. "WAIT—I don’t care!” He laughed giddily, then he spotted a barbecue grill and grabbed onto it possessively. “Actually I will take my crown…” he set it on his head. “And these…” he scooped up the nearest stack of toilet paper. “I could not leave this,” and he tried to move a fire hydrant. It didn’t budge. He looked at Lucy. “Ehh, do you think you could—YIPE!” The grill fell over his head.

When Lucy lifted up the grill, some of the overflowing enthusiasm faded from his face. “What is the purpose?” he asked, waving a finger at her glare.

”You are not off the hook here, Smek.” 

He looked concerned. “Where is the hook?”

”I’ll tell you," Lucy replied. “To make up for your crimes, you’ll be under the orders of President Kyle from now on. He’ll decide how you can do good for New Boovworld. Four days out of your week, you’ll be devoting your time to community service.”

”COMMUNITY??” Smek cried. He thought more about it. “SERVICE?!” His lip wobbled. “But…but—“

”You’re smart, aren’t you?” Lucy rolled her eyes. “You should know that you’re getting off easy, here. You’ll be living as a regular Boov, in regular Boov society. Captain Oh has pardoned you from a life in prison.”

Smek’s brows pinched. He looked at the floor. He was still pouting, but he appeared surprisingly thoughtful. “Captain Oh,” he echoed, and for the first time ever, he spoke the name without any trace of bitterness. “What…what about…” his gaze trailed over to the fire hydrant again.

No, Lucy prepared to answer, I can’t lift a fire hydrant. And, even if she could—

“What about you?”

She blinked. He still wasn’t looking at her. “What about me?”

”Haves you…pardoned me?” 

“Are you asking me if I forgive you?”

Smek shrugged, oddly shy for another moment. Then he shed off the insecure look with a chuckle and an eye roll. “I mean, you must be forgiving! You has come here yourself to tell me the news! Surely it could have been Captain Oh, or any other Boov. And—“

”Here’s a question for you, Smek,” Lucy cut in. “Do you feel sorry for anything that you did? And I don’t mean sorry for yourself,” she said when he tried to reply. “I mean sorry for all the people you hurt. Do you regret any of it? Can you say that you do, or would you turn green again?”

”I—“ Smek faltered. “I—the green…the shamefully heroic sabotage of my reclaimed Captaincy…I did it for you. I did not want for you to be scared. Not because of me, again already after too many times.”

He looked at her with big, genuine eyes. The only color on his skin was blue. It was the truth.

But it still wasn’t an apology.

Anger would have been a more useful feeling, because disappointment made Lucy feel all too tired. “You did a good thing for me,” she replied. “But it doesn’t cover up everything else. If you can’t even…” She sighed and shook her head. “Then you’re just not worth my time.”

Smek’s nostricles dropped down his back. “But then…why did you…Ah,” he said, like he suddenly understood something. “You are here personally for taking it back.” He stuck his hand into his pocket. 

Lucy was all the more exasperated. “What are you even—“

Slushious’ keys clinked in Smek’s palm when he offered them to Lucy. “I did not mean to steal,” he explained sheepishly. “I am…”

Lucy stared at him. Smek’s mouth opened, then closed. Finally, he said, “It was unintentional.”

The stolen car keys had been easy to forget about. Compared to everything else that had happened, the little theft was barely a bump in the road. Rewiring the flying car with a new set of keys had barely been an inconvenience for Oh. Lucy hadn’t even thought to ask Smek for them back, but,

She held them in her hand, now, and turned over the little seashell attached to the keys. A younger version of her daughter, all smiles and bright eyes and pigtails, was framed within the shell. Lucy felt a pang of regret for not demanding her keys back. More than that, she felt gratitude. She hadn’t needed to demand anything. Smek had given them up, and Lucy wondered why he had kept them so close for so long.

Fine, she thought. Just one more favor.

”Can I see your hand? The one that got scratched.”

The request took Smek by surprise, but he offered her his palm. Lucy looked over it quickly. Her finger traced the tiniest sliver of a scar that would be gone by the end of a week. For someone who acted like he was made of glass, Smek didn’t heal all too badly. Lucy let him go. 

”I just wanted to make sure it healed up nicely,” Lucy explained. “It looks great. You’ll have nothing to remember Julio by,” she teased. “Anyway…”

Smek just stared at her, looking stuck, like he was caught between two frames of motion. He wanted to do something—wanted to say something, that much was obvious by the look on his face. But Lucy already told him pretty much everything she had come here to say, and she just wasn’t willing to wait around any longer.

“I’m going to meet back with the guard in the security center. Captain Oh will be returning to pick me up, and after that, it sounds like you’re free to go. President Kyle is sending a police escort to help settle you back into your old place. You can probably expect some watching eyes for a while, but that’ll ease up as long as you behave yourself. Think you can do that?” she asked sardonically.

Smek’s gaze had wilted to the floor, and he’d gotten all hunched up. He prodded his fingers in a subdued little way. “You are leaving now?” he asked. “Forever?”

What, did he want her to tuck him in first? Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his sad little act. For better or worse, they’d been through a lot together, and she didn’t want to leave on bad terms. So, for her final farewell to the Boovs’ former Captain, she found it in herself to smile.

”Goodbye, Smek. I really do hope you have a good life.”

“Lucy Tucci,” he said, but she was already walking by, out toward the hall. She hoped she could retrace her steps. The interior of any Boov structure was like an anatomically functional balloon animal. On his Captain’s orders, the guard would be expecting her back pretty soon, but he might just have to—

“WAIT!!” Smek cried, and he said it with such urgency that Lucy’s feet responded of their own accord. She nearly twisted on her feet to see what the problem was, and when she awkwardly tried to get her balance back, a disadvantageously placed ball of twine snuck below her heel. 

“Fudge!” she hissed (because she’d been a mom for the last thirteen, almost fourteen years). But, actually, she’d landed on a random, heaping supply of bagged sugar pops, and it felt like bad acupuncture. Lucy winced and sat up. She wanted to swear for real. Was she even allowed to swear in front of Boov? It was getting harder to care by the millisecond.

“Why do you have so much sh—crud!!” she screamed, and it was a weird time for the Tip-filter to kick back in, because an odd, desperate look had taken over Smek’s face right as he decided to lunge at her. Smek tackled her, and she curled over him to keep from getting flattened out.

What’s the worst that Smek could do?

Her own voice from the past returned to mock her, because at no point had Lucy even considered an outright attack.

“Smek!” she half-grunted, half-shouted. His body was wedged right under her chin, and combined with general panic, it was hard to get a look at her predicament. She grabbed at his nostricles but her hands landed on thin air. “Smek—“

”I AM SORRY!” he wailed. The words didn’t fully register with Lucy, and they didn’t make her feel any better. She wriggled and yanked at his vest, trying to peel him off.

“What are you even—“

”FOR IT ALL! I am sorry for it all,” he cried, and—oh, he was actually crying, Lucy could feel the damp spot growing on her blouse. Shock funneled into a detached sort of exasperation—he was being just like Oh, hugging and sobbing when things got overwhelming—and then it all turned right back into shock, as jolting as before. 

Smek was hugging her right now. Not to mention apologizing. He kept rambling his tear-soaked apologies as Lucy wriggled for some freedom, and she got enough space to really look at the Boov wedged up against her.

The irrational part of her brain tried to reason this must not be Smek hugging and crying and apologizing. This Boov she saw was not Smek as she recognized him. She realized why her hands had landed on thin air, back when she’d made a play for his nostricles. The raised horns had curled into tight cinnamon swirls at the sides of his head. Lucy felt oddly triumphant. She knew they didn’t stand up like that!

Apart from the nostricles, Smek’s skin was also far from its usual purple (or yellow) state. Swarming phases of color indicated a very emotionally overwhelmed Boov. His rambles were becoming more unintelligible. Her hand hovered over his pressure point, ready to calm him down with the physiological off-switch. She hesitated, a little guilty. Then she considered the salty tears getting into her brand new blouse. And the Boov’s clear distress, that too. But really—this was a brand new blouse!

Her hand nearly touched his head.

”…mistakes,” she heard him whine, and she paused.

”…What was that?” she asked. Directly admitting a mistake was no small thing for a Boov.

Smek wheezed and sniffled through his curled nostricles. A little more clearly, he whined, “I haves made many mistakes…More than nine. Mayhaps…Mayhaps even…eleven,” and his whole body seized up like Lucy was bound to throw fists at the admission.

”…Only eleven?” 

“WELL I HAVES NOT MADE TWELVE, I AM NOT A PSYCHO!”

”Okay, okay,” Lucy sighed, patting his back. She still hadn’t returned the hug. “Eleven’s a start, at least.”

”I count better than you,” Smek sniffled.

Lucy’s hand twitched, but she still refrained from hitting the off-switch.

“I has thought of it all,” he said. “The bad peace meeting. The Gorg egg. The…almost-erasure. The Shushing at the Common Dome, and the stealing of the humansperson with the awful Koobish sounds…” 

Awful Koobish sounds?

”Among other less consequential mistakes.” His arm shifted and she could feel the air on her back when he waved his hand. “The prince of Glokeria thing was mostly hilarious.”

When Lucy pushed at his vest, Smek finally relented and eased a few inches away. He was still too close for comfort, but she decided to allow it so long as she got a close up look at his face. Not even the faintest hint of green was going to escape her scrutiny.

”Do you really mean it?” she asked. “Are you actually sorry for all the mistakes that you made?” Or at least eleven of them.

Smek’s shoulders slumped. “Yes,” he said, oddly straightforward. His color was dark blue, but he wasn’t putting on a big show of how sad he was. “I am sorries for it all. You have my apologies for all the hurt…and fear.” 

No green, none at all. Still, Lucy wasn’t completely satisfied. “I’m not the only one you have to apologize to, you know.”

Smek appeared reluctant, but he nodded. “Yes, I will be offering all the apologies, face to face…Except for Shirl, she may be a remote message of remorse.” He grimaced and rubbed the spot between his eyes.

Lucy hummed. He really was sorry, his lie-detector skin already confirmed it, and he intended on apologizing to more people than just her. But something still bothered her.

“Why are you apologizing to me, anyway?” she asked. “It’s one thing to feel sorry. Actually saying it to someone isn’t easy. And I know you, Smek. You’re not the kind of person to stick your neck out. Figuratively,” she added, when he frowned. Lucy crossed her arms and regarded him suspiciously. “What’s in it for you, here?”

”Nothing,” he said, reflexively. Lamely. When Lucy obviously didn’t buy it, he sighed dramatically. He looked at his hand. “Well…Mayhaps…it is that I do not want Lucy Tucci to be just a memory. Like Julio. A nuisance that I never see again.” He looked up at her. His eyes wobbled. “I want for Lucy Tucci to be the annoying human nuisance that I see for many times,” he pseudo-sobbed, and Lucy felt quite irritated at herself for actually being touched. “I will apologize as many times as you make me, for you not to leave forever.”

Again, Lucy hummed. She looked away from Smek. Her eyes landed on a random stack of oranges. There was a similar taste in her mouth. Beyond a stubborn peel of bitterness…something sweet, that made her want to move the bitterness inside. So she did, for the moment at least. Maybe she wouldn’t forgive Smek tomorrow, or even an hour from now. In her life, with her sister, with Tip’s father—with a lot of people, Lucy had learned forgiveness was a process. It was a maze of rooms and not just a door to shut behind her. But for now, right now, she was ready to move forward to a new space.

”I accept your apologies,” Lucy decided. “Not because I have to, or even because I should. But because I want to.” Her demeanor softened. “I didn’t want to leave you behind, you know. I just didn’t think that you’d give me a real choice. My family’s peace of mind is the most important thing to me. I can’t let you into my life if you’re not someone who can become better than the Boov I’ve known so far.”

“Yes,” Smek nodded solemnly. “The worthless jerk.” He looked up at her with big, shiny eyes, like he expected to hear something from her.

Lucy considered the big, damp stain on her shirt. “Your words, not mine,” she shrugged. When she glanced up, Smek’s jaw had dropped in disbelief. Then he saw her little smirk. He failed to hide a smile. Orange spread on his face.

”Backwards human,” he snorted. 

“Yeah, yeah.”

”Can I…” he coughed. “The human gesture of gratitude…”

”So you’re actually asking this time? You sure you don’t want to attack me with it?”

Teasing was a fine line with Smek, a precarious little boundary between making him bashful and feeding a tantrum. She saw his face twist up with indignity.

”WELL I—“

”C’mere,” Lucy opened her arms, and Smek was like a magnet.

This time Lucy returned the embrace, and she realized it was probably the first real hug this weird little alien had ever gotten. She felt a little guilty that she imagined hugging Oh, but she couldn’t help it. Not when Smek’s face was buried against her, and his nostricles were still those typical cinnamon swirls. All the pink didn’t help, either. Smek’s whole body was a deep pink. 

She wasn’t going to get all sappy and choked up about it. Lucy cleared her throat. “They’re going to make this whole place into a museum, you know.”

A lot of work had gone into making the prison, in the two days that Oh and Kyle had demanded for it to be built. They didn’t want to just destroy it after Smek was gone. Oh had said something about a “Museum of Noises”. He had some interesting ideas she couldn’t quite remember but she’d pretend to later. Lucy considered how it might be useful to have a friend with perfect memory.

”Should not be a museum,” Smek muttered. He sounded a lot more tired than genuinely irritated about it. His arms had gotten a little slack. It was a nice change of pace from the cinches. “It should be melted down, made into a statue in honor of the Prior Captain Smek, Almost Captain Again, But He Decided Nah. Every Boov can look at statue every day in great admiration.” She must have harrumphed a certain way, because he added, “Lucy Tucci can be mentioned on the plaque. Smaller letters.”

”You really love attention, don’t you?” she deadpanned.

Smek sniffled. “So so much.”

Lucy sighed. She had use for this guy’s memory. But for his incessant attention-seeking that didn’t have a chance of going away? His desire to be looked at and listened to at all possible chances? To have an innumerable audience to parade in front of? What could she possibly do with that?

Wait a second.

If Lucy hadn’t already been hugging Smek, she may have just scooped him up and spun him around. Sure, he weighed like a thousand pounds, but the wave of pure enthusiasm she felt could have given her the strength.

In the last couple of weeks, a lot of pieces had come together, but some were still missing, and they left gaping holes in the Tuccis’ future. Notably, their future of living together as a regular family on planet Earth, where the rest of the human race remained unaware of Oh’s role as the Boovs’ Captain. He didn’t want the attention. None of them did. Who would?

Suddenly, Lucy had an idea of who might.

Chapter Text

December 25, 2015 . . .

“HUMANS REJOICE! It is I, CAPTAIN Smek of the Boov! That’s C-A-P-T-A-I-N, loved by Boov and humans alike!” Smek called with no small amount of vigor.

Across planet Earth, on phones and televisions and giant digital advertisement screens, was the Captain of the Boov. Smek was exactly as humans had seen him on the first day of that fateful alien invasion. He wore a red-and-gold vest, held his nostricles like horns, and gripped a scepter. 

“Welcoming to the first anniversary of Smekday! Known to a lesser extent as Christmas…if you want to be old fashioned,” he hummed out the side of his mouth. He wielded his moon-adorned scepter like a circus showman would wield their baton. 

“Over the past solar rotation, Boov and humans have had our difficulties and disagreements! But over it all, we has found common ground, in a common gravitational pull!” Smek traced the oval shape of the orbit with his scepter. “Today, we are together as great friends! Humanspeople enjoy tours of the great New Boovworld, jewel of the moon, super city of all super cities! And some Boov have left the great life of technological advancement for a simpler life on Earth with the humans. Very quaint,” he shrugged.

Behind a familiar, four-hundred-year-old camera, Hitch gestured for Smek to hurry it up. Smek raised his hand in something that looked like a wave to the humans, but he deigned to get to the point.

“So for encouraging our species’ endless companionment, on the behalf of the Boov, I would like to personally wish all beings on Earth a happy day of enjoyment! Enjoy you your frozen sweetened bovine secretions, courtesy of Boov ships you will see visiting from us! And this time we won’t even take you to Australia! My apologies again,” he said very seriously. “I had no idea about the many predatory and hostile creatures of that place…also I am feeling sick,” he added to explain why he was suddenly green.

(He’d taken one look at the kangaroos and generously offered that whole continent for the human camps.)

“Again, I am CAPTAIN Smek, saying farewell until next-time-very-soon!” Smek struck a pose, the same one he did every time. He raised the scepter, to signify power. He cupped his chin, because that made him look thoughtful, and he raised a brow and pursed his mouth because it made him look charming and confident. 

Lucy asked him many times to stop doing the pose but he still did it. She said his pose was in a lot of places with a lot of different captions, and he had no idea how that could possibly be a bad thing.

”Aaaand cut!” Hitch gave a thumbs up. He patted Cammy. “Good girl!” he cooed. “Now you can go say greetings to—“

”ACK!” Senior Officer Shirl winced, doing her best to keep the camera from knocking her off her pods. “Yes, yes,” she rolled her eyes when the camera nuzzled and showed its affections. “That is more than enough. We see each other often.”

”You do’s not have to come for the transmission every time,” Smek complained, shrugging out of his vest. He put on his preferred one, the dark gray one with black trim. 

Hitch fussed with his bow tie. “I do not mind, Senior Officer!” he purred. “I am always in enjoyment of our close proximity! And our talks. Hey—woulds you want to talk about that recent stampeding of baby Koobish in the city? Sources suggest cop incompetence for mending the situation in three minutes instead of just two. What do haves to say for that?”

Shirl pushed away Cammy. She ignored Hitch and focused on Smek's whiny complaint. “President Kyle appointed me for observing all your transmissions. You two cannot be trusted to make them alone. Not after the first one.”

”What,” Hitch waved his hand, “you mean the underhanded coup of Captain Oh’s rightful place as Boov species leader?” 

”No,” Shirl replied sternly. “I am meaning the apologies transmission to people of Earthland, when Smek was first appointed as CAPTAIN. As in, Cooperative Assistant Providing Tactfully Adaptable Interspecies Networking.” She stared at Smek. “You were not tactfully adaptable when-for you went on a six-minute side-tangent on bad studio lighting.” She looked to Hitch. “You dids not stop him.”

“Well he hads a point! Did you not see the glaring lights effect in the pupils? How could the humans like to see a Boov when it looks we are about to laser them with our eyes!”

“Exactly!” Smek cried. “He agrees!”

”You are both in agreement too often these days,” Shirl muttered. “One reason for President Kyle’s competent orders for me to be here. Talking of President Kyle’s orders,” she said loudly, and Smek immediately grimaced. “You are not done for today. The Koobish babies incident requires extra surveillance of crater fields.”

Smek slumped and groaned. “But…that will take up hours…it will be darkness by time I get to Lucy Tucci section of North American continent!”

He’d heard from the Tuccis that the holiday season was especially a time of niceness and understanding. Apparently Shirl hadn’t heard the same thing. His whines did nothing to ease the strict line of her brows. “President Kyle orders,” she said like he didn’t already know. This community service thing was really such an inconvenience.

The reporter sauntered up to Shirl. “Again,” he purred, “about those baby Koobish…“

His sleazy grin spread wide when Shirl actually turned to acknowledge him. She looked him over, hummed, and ever-so-slightly adjusted his bow tie. “There. For the unavoidable surprise interview,” she deadpanned, “in spirit of holiday season.”

Smek gawked in pure disbelief and anger. So Shirl did now of the holiday friendliness! He glared at her as she walked out of the CBSLZXI—News! studio. Then he looked at Hitch.

”What is the purpose?” he asked dryly, but he didn’t really care about the flaring pink on Hitch’s dazed face. Apparently, he had some very boring time-wasting to do before he visited the Tuccis. 

Just as President Kyle had ordered, Smek spent the next few hours soaring in a bubble craft over the crater fields, watching a lot of very tired Koobish parents watching a lot of very energetic Koobish babies. He wondered how they were tricked into doing the mating call every season. The Boov were obviously too smart for any tricks of nature. It was a chore to do the highly tech-reliant genome-shuffling for creating a sufficiently genetically diverse next generation. These Koobish were tricked into making their own problems. So were humans, he already knew, but at least they made their courtship rituals entertaining for tv.

Lucy was a long-time fan of those courtship shows that Gratuity liked to gag at. Gratuity called them “corny”, so he didn’t understand why she avoided them, because the humans liked corn. Smek himself was very quickly endeared to the shows. Something about seeing the first human spill hot waking-up liquids on the other human earned his amusement, and after that, he was pretty much hooked (meaning, said Lucy, very highly interested).

And tonight, they were watching a Smekday-themed one, airing for the first time in honor of his holiday! Two humans bumping into each other and finding mutual attraction in Happy Humanstown during the invasion. And people still acted like the human camps were such a “horrible, colonialist, fundamentally unethical” idea! Anyway, Smek was more than eager to watch the movie.

When the Koobish babysitting was over, Smek wasted no time getting to Earth. Getting to the humancity Chicago was a breeze. Speaking of breeze, the windchill did nothing to make the freezing air of a December night feel more habitable. By the time Smek knocked on the Tuccis’ apartment window, he was shivering. He needed a better insulated craft.

”There he is,” Lucy greeted when he crawled in through the window like a creature. He flattened his nostricles to fit under the pane. “The main Boov of Smekday. You and Santa have to share a seat, huh?”

“Did you watch the transmission?” he chattered. He shuffled his pods on the kitchen floor. Did the floor have to be so freezy, too?

”I did,” Lucy nodded. She gave him a look. “You did the pose.”

”Humanspeople love the pose!”

”I know. But maybe not in the way you think.” Lucy sighed and shook her head. Then she grabbed a couple mugs she’d put on the counter. She offered one to Smek. He took it and squinted at the drink. The mug was warm, which he immediately liked.

“Low viscosity motor oil, heated up,” she explained.

An orange band swept over Smek’s skin. The low viscosity stuff was his favorite. He took a sip and hummed, already feeling warmer. Smek gestured at her own drink in a silent question. Lucy chuckled sheepishly and raised her mug.

”Spiked hot chocolate,” she said like she was admitting something.

Smek was alarmed. He wiped the oil off his mustache. “Spiked?” He thought of the skull-studded spikes on K-Trong’s mechsuit. “Is that dangerous?”

”That kind of depends on how much I drink,” she grinned, still a little embarrassed. “I don’t usually have this, but it’s a holiday night, and the kids are in bed.” Lucy took a sip and shrugged. Smek waited nervously for her to show signs of pain, but if anything, she seemed to feel better. She relaxed and sighed. “This might not be my first cup.”

As long as Lucy was relaxed, Smek supposed he could be relaxed too. When he looked around, he was only a little on edge. “You said that Gratuity Tucci and Captain Oh are in their respective sleeping pods?”

”They’re supposed to be, since it’s close to midnight, but they’re both in Tip’s room watching a movie on her phone. They think they’re sneaky.” She smiled and took another sip. “They’ll fall asleep in their blanket fort. I wouldn’t expect to see them until the morning.”

Smek nodded, grateful for her direct answer to his unspoken question. Since it was only him and Lucy, he let his nostricles curl and sighed at the relief of it. He grinned and pointed excitedly for the living room.

”Courtship movie?”

“Swooning in Smekland.” Lucy shook her head. “What a year. Let’s watch it!”

They gathered on the couch. Boov things were nearly always superior to human things. But when it came to furniture—boy, did humans have it figured out! Smek even had a heating lamp for his side of the couch. Comfy cushions, heated light, a soft blanket and a warm mug of motor oil…Lucy by herself proved humans were a lot more forward-facing than he’d thought before. Only one more thing to really get rid of the stress President Kyle loved to shoulder on him.

Smek pointed at his head. “D’you mind?” he asked. Lucy rolled her eyes and murmured something about Oh, but she massaged the spot between his nostricles, and his soul fused with the ice-crystal decorated blanket. 

“You’re not allowed to fall asleep,” Lucy reminded him when she turned on the tv. A very badly CGI’d Boov mothership skirted around the moon and loomed toward Earth. “You’re the only person I know that appreciates romcoms. You have to stay awake for this.”

“Uhhh huhhhh,” Smek replied, very promisingly. He wasn't even bothered when the cat-Pig jumped on his head.

For the record, he stayed awake longer than her. The pretending-for-entertainment humans hadn’t even smushed their faces together when Lucy started making her Koobish sounds. And that was her favorite part of every courtship movie. Smek stifled a yawn. The last thing he’d remember from the night was a few, inconsequential lines from the show. The humans were sharing some ridiculous dialogue. A couple Boov stood stiffly in the background, bribed some way or another into being in the show. Their eyes flicked uncertainly between each other and the recording camera.

The female human spoke, a little more breathily than female humans normally spoke: "Before the invasion, I lived alone in a corn field. I thought I could be happy like that, for the rest of my life, surrounded by nothing but corn, with nobody by my side. I thought corn was all I needed. And cats," she added.

Smek chuckled sleepily and tugged on the cat-Pig's tail. Gratuity Tucci clearly didn't realize how much a humansperson should like corn.

"But then...I met you," she said, and put her hands on the male human's chest. The background Boov shared another awkward glance. "I'm just a country girl who loves corn. You're from the city. And before you met me, you were a dietary journalist writing misinformed articles about the high sugar and carbohydrate content of corn. But here we are, brought to the same Happy Humanstown under the oppressive rule of the Boov." One of the Boov tried to wave, the other put their hand down.

The male human nodded with a sharp jerk of his chin. "Before I was abducted, I hated corn. I blamed the poor nutritional value of corn for getting in the way of my gains." He flexed his arms. "But now," he put his hands on the humanswoman's shoulders, "I see now that corn is actually rich in fiber and aids in digestive health. Corn makes me stronger. And so do you."

"How is it possible?" she swooned, and the male caught her in a muscular arm. The Boov in the background were having their own conversation at this point. "We are such different people, from such different lives! Now here we are! Against all the odds! What could it be that pulls us together?"

"Again with the question," Smek muttered sleepily. Humans were always wondering how things happened. His eyes shuttered closed. Baby-sitting duty really drained him, and for a second, Lucy's snores made him want to scold whatever Koobish was trying to create more trouble on legs.

"Don't you understand what it is, after all this time?" the humansman asked dramatically.

"Hehheh. The pulling is the gravity," Smek chuckled. Koobish began to roam in the darkness of his eyes. He was right on the edge of a dream.

"It's love!" the humansman declared, and so did the talking Koobish. Smek turned in his blanket. The heating lamp glowed warm on his skin.

"What stupidity," Smek grumbled to the Koobish. It was all math and science. Anyone with half a cerebrum could understand that. He was up to his nostricles in tired delirium and he still understood it. He tried to explain it to the Koobish. "Physics is the explanation."

A Koobish spoke. It sounded remarkably like Lucy. "Love is the reason," she said.

Smek disagreed, of course, but he didn't feel like arguing. He already had to deal with Senior Officer Shirl. She was yelling at him, because the Koobish didn’t taste as good when they were that color.

Smek didn’t know what to tell her. It wasn’t like it was his fault that they were all suddenly bright pink.

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