“What?” Leo whispered. “What did it say?”
Dilly tuned the gem in its collar back and forth.
“Is rough translation, but alien basically said…” It shrugged. “They want to come over and party with us.”
Chapter Nineteen
The sounds of bellowing voices and barking laughter filled the storm-ravaged decks of the Americano Grande. The fleshy crab aliens from the battleship—Mashtaplops, as Leo understood it—were apparently having the time of their lives. In the two days since first contact, the remnants of Leo’s WTF crew had reassembled a few makeshift cocktail bars and learned to mix drinks strong enough to smooth over the language barrier.
Leo looked down from the scorched rail of an upper-level sundeck, breathing in the artificial sea air and feeling the warm glow of a star no human being had ever seen. But he wasn’t in an exploratory mood. He scrolled through his tabloyd’s final sync of Skardon’s files and pulled up the order to demolish Eaglehaven. The status was now stamped through with a big red CANCELED, but the holo of the spinning globe remained. He’d saved his beautiful, blue-green moon from destruction. It was a bittersweet victory, all things considered.
A dark shadow fell across him and he quickly swiped the holo away. Burlock settled at the rail beside him, looking out over the reveling Mashtaplops.
“Hideous sons of bishes, aren’t they?”
“I’m sure they think the same about us,” Leo chuckled. “How are you feeling?”
“It’s good to be whole again, I’ll say that much.”
Leo glanced up at the Ba’lux’s cranial implant. The metal was blackened and scarred with fresh welds, but otherwise intact.
“I had the Lethargots put it back together while Waverlee was putting you back together. It should have all the same functionality it did before.” He shrugged. “You know, except for the explodey parts.”
Burlock’s scratched eye lens twitched. “Yeah. About that.” He rested his hands on the rail. “I just wanted to say th…” He choked. He paused. He grimaced. “Thank you.”
“It was nothing.”
“It was not nothing. You saved my life.” Burlock’s jaw muscles tightened. “When Admiral Skardon tried to terminate me, he terminated my blood debt to him. And in the same moment, you picked it up.”
Leo shook his head. “That’s not necessary. Really.”
“Do not presume to understand Ba’lux honor, MacGavin,” Burlock growled. “I owe you a blood debt.”
“So you’re not mad that I staged a mutiny against you?”
“I staged a mutiny against you first.”
“What can I say? Everything I know about command I learned from you.”
Burlock snorted a laugh. “You know, when my implant was gone and I was stuck on that gurney, I couldn’t move or speak, but I could still see and hear. I was aware of everything going on around me.” He turned to Leo. “I saw you command under fire.”
Leo raised a brow. “And?”
A long moment passed.
“I’m not unimpressed.”
Burlock handed Leo the captain’s badge. Leo accepted it with a grin. “So… we’re friends now?”
Burlock turned and strode away.
“Let’s not push it, Captain.”
***
Down on the Piñata Deck, a small, out-of-the-way lounge was packed claw-to-claw with scuttling Mashtaplops. The aliens whooped and swayed in what appeared to be total bliss, which made no sense, considering the mind-wrecking noise coming from the tiny stage.
Jassi shredded on her guitar while Hax drummed, neither of them making any effort to form a melody with the other. Jassi windmilled her arm across her strings over and over until the noise threatened to shatter the bottles behind the bar, then threw finger horns and shouted at the audience.
“Thank you! We’re Murderblossom! And you’re a bunch of disgusting crabs with butthole eyes who can’t understand a gahdamn thing I say!”
The crowd whooped and rubbed their forearms together in a gesture Kellybean presumed was their version of applause. She waved at the stage as Jassi hopped off, getting her attention. The briefest look of surprise flashed across Jassi’s face, and she swung her guitar over her back and swaggered over to Kellybean’s table, followed by Hax.
“Heya, Beans. Funny seeing you here.” Jassi smoldered and tipped her head toward the stage. “What’d ya think?”
“I think you’re better without Stobber,” Kellybean said.
“So you enjoyed the show?” Hax asked.
“I think you’re better without Stobber,” Kellybean repeated noncommittally.
Jassi sighed at the cheering crowd. “We finally get some groupies and they’re a bunch of sphincter-faced jelly turds.”
“One of them gave me its room key!” Hax cheered.
“You’re only excited because you don’t know what that means.” Jassi rapped a knuckle on Hax’s plastic casing. “Hey, why don’t you go to the bar and fetch us some drinks.” She gestured to herself. “Beer.” She gestured to Kellybean.
“Milk,” Kellybean said. “Just milk for me, please.”
“Oooh, calcium rich,” Hax said. “Good choice!”
He rolled away and Jassi slumped into a seat. “So… I haven’t seen you around much since the whole repeated-near-death-experience thing.”
Kellybean slouched and groaned. “Ugh. Do you know how hard it is to be the chief of hospitality when you have to plan activities for a bunch of gooey crabs you know literally nothing about? It’s been a nightmare.” She raked her paws through the white bob of her hair. “To be honest, I kinda miss when we were just trying to keep the ship from exploding.”
Jassi leaned in and met Kellybean’s eyes with unexpected tenderness. “I kinda miss that, too.”
Kellybean gave her a coy smile. “You know, it could be like that every day.” Her tail swished. “Not the exploding part, but the part where we’re together. If you’re into it.”
“I am,” Jassi said breathily. “I so am.”
“Awesome! Then I officially extend the offer.”
She put a small, flat box on the table and pushed it toward Jassi. Jassi eyed it with confusion and flipped it open, revealing a WTF badge with three yellow chevrons. She raised a brow. “What’s this?”
“It’s Praz’s badge.” Kellybean smiled. “The Americano Grande needs a new chief engineer. How would you like to join me on the senior staff?”
Jassi waved her hand and wrinkled her nose. “Bah. No way. I ain’t some fancy-pants starship engineer. I’m just a spaceport gearhead.”
“Our last chief engineer wasn’t even that.” Kellybean’s eyes turned pleading. “Come on, Jassi. You’ve got mad skills. And you already know this ship’s systems better than anyone else. The Lethargots are lost without a leader. Will you do it for them?”
“No way.”
Kellybean put a paw on Jassi’s hand and gazed through her lashes. “Will you do it for me?”
Jassi sighed in defeat. “You really want this?”
“I do.”
“Then I guess I just got myself a new job.”
Hax rolled up to the table with their drinks as Jassi picked up her badge.
“Ooh! Shiny!” he said. “What’s that?”
“A new pain in my arze,” Jassi grumbled.
“Oh, come on. This is going to be fun!” Kellybean gave Jassi a cheeky salute. “Welcome to the senior staff of the WTF Americano Grande, Lieutenant Commander Jassi Kiktrash.”
“Wow!” Hax said. “That sounds so much more dignified than ‘repeat offender Jassi Kiktrash.’”
The tiniest smile played at the corners of Jassi’s lips.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
***
Leo sat at the head of the table in a glass-walled executive boardroom overlooking the Rushmore Concourse. The damaged furniture of the artificial park had been cleared away and most of the water was back in
the pond. Every cafe and bar was full of Mashtaplop revelers eating and drinking and generally raising a ruckus.
“This nonsense needs to stop, and it needs to stop now,” Burlock said, pointing at the ongoing party below. “It’s one thing to make a gesture of goodwill to save our skins, but those sons of bishes have been at it for two full days!”
A general rumble of agreement rolled around the senior staff seated at the table—Burlock and Waverlee to Leo’s right, Kellybean and Jassi to his left, Dilly crouched at the other end.
Kellybean winced. “Not to be grim, but they’ve already eaten half the food on board. We only had enough on hand to get us to Ensenada Vega. Four days worth of perishables.”
Dilly nodded. “Our chances of survival are bleak. We have no resources.”
“That’s not true,” Leo said. “We have the greatest resource of all. The crew.”
Waverlee shook her head. “Even if we resort to cannibalism, we’ll run out of crew in three, four months, tops.”
“Wow, that is so not what I meant.” Leo stood up and paced in front of the windows. “Look, Skardon thought this crew was the worst of the WTF fleet, but we’ve already proven him wrong. We pulled together when it mattered. When he tried to kill us, we survived. And we’re going to keep surviving.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Burlock asked.
Leo’s eyes glimmered. “By doing what we do best.”
“Injuring the passengers?” Waverlee said.
“Shoddy repairs?” Dilly ventured.
“General reckless endangerment?” Kellybean suggested.
“No!” Leo snapped. “By hosting amazing cruises!”
Jassi snorted. “Wow, I wouldn’t have even put that in the top ten.”
Leo pinched his eyes. “You guys, I’m serious.” He pulled off his tabloyd and unfolded it, pulling up a roster of the people left on board. His device had been much more cooperative since Hax had broken the child lock. “We still have a lot of deckhands, and cabin stewards, and entertainers, and kitchen staff, and more. We’ve easily got enough crew to keep running cruises.”
“But why?” Dilly asked. “What is point of running frivolous pleasure cruises here?”
“The same as it was back home,” Leo said. “We show people a good time. They pay us for it. We buy more supplies. We live another day. And repeat. For as long as it takes.” He lifted his chin and puffed his chest. “I promised Varlowe Waylade I’d get this ship to Ensenada Vega, and I’m gonna do it. So who’s with me?”
He grinned and held out a fist for a show of solidarity that failed to materialize. Waverlee crossed her arms. “Look, kid. I don’t mean to put grit in your oyster, but we’re a bajillion light years from the Four Prime Systems. Even if this ship could somehow make it to Ensenada Vega, we’d all be dust and bones by the time it got there.”
“Yes, but the Blue Hole brought us here in like, five seconds,” Leo argued. “What if there’s something else out there that can take us back just as fast? We’ll never find it if we just give up.” He swiped on his tabloyd, bringing up Skardon’s demolition order and its vibrant hologram of Eaglehaven. “We all have something to go back for, right? Close your eyes. Picture it in your mind. Do you want to give up on ever seeing that thing again?”
An annoyed grimace pricked Burlock’s face. “I never give up, sir.” His eye lens clicked as he turned to the others. “MacGavin’s plan is terrible, but I got nothing better. I’m in.”
“Thanks, Burlock.” Leo considered it and teetered his hand. “Thanks-ish.”
“Well, I believe Leo can pull this off.” Kellybean grinned at him. “The captain is a force to be reckoned with.”
Leo returned her smile. “I guess I am, aren’t I?”
“I don’t give two shix about going back.” Jassi kicked her boots up on the table. “But if Kellybean’s in, I’m in.”
Leo cocked his head. “I’m sorry, are you on the senior staff now?”
Dilly clicked its mandibles. “Captain’s plan will maximize lifespans of remaining crew. It is on board.”
“I guess we’d all be dead already if not for the kid’s cockamamie schemes,” Waverlee said. “We’re gonna have to work our fins off, but let’s do it.” She jabbed out a webbed fist. “For the things worth going back to!”
This time everyone stuck in a limb, bumped fists, and repeated the rallying cry. “For the things worth going back to!”
Leo gazed at the holo of the demolition order, but his eyes weren’t on the revolving globe. They had drifted to the signature on the cancelation line, and the accompanying identicard photo of Varlowe. He smiled.
“For the things worth going back to.”
***
What happens next? Find out in the free novella:
Galaxy Cruise: Language Barrier
And then grab book two:
Galaxy Cruise: Royally Screwed
Thank You!
Hello, reader!
Thank you for joining me on the maiden voyage of the Americano Grande! I hope you had fun and didn’t get lost in space.
If you enjoyed this book, could you please do me a favor and leave a quick review? Your positive word-of-mouth does so much to sway potential readers. Let them know what you think!
Here’s a page with easy, direct links to review sites.
Also, don’t forget to grab your free novella Galaxy Cruise: Language Barrier and order book two, Galaxy Cruise: Royally Screwed!
Thanks for your support. I appreciate you!
Your old pal,
— Marcus
Thank You, too!
Thank you to everyone who helped me to get this crazy cruise out of my head and into this book.
To my beta readers—Christopher, J.J., Jer, Joy, Julia, Karen, and Victoria—thank you for pointing out all the things that sucked so I could fix them. And thanks to Mr. Senecal, my ninth-grade English teacher, for still being interested in what I’m writing thirty years later.
Thank you to Craig Martelle and 20BooksTo50K for teaching me how indie publishing works, and to William Van Winkle and the PNW Author Meetup Group for your wisdom and support.
Thanks to Jon Lundy for the awesome 3D model of the Americano Grande that’s on the cover of this book, and to Maria Semelevich for showing me how to build a galaxy around it.
Thank you to my amazing Advance Review Crew for sharing the love across retail and reader sites. I appreciate you more than you’d be comfortable hearing about.
And most of all, thank you to my wife, Amanda, for never letting me give up. You are my favorite thing in the known universe.
About the Author
Your old pal Marcus Alexander Hart is an award-adjacent novelist, self-proclaimed karaoke star, and default awesome dude. He has been a roller-derby skater and a real-life quidditch player. He once won an overnight road rally in a fake ice-cream truck. Marcus lives in the Pacific Northwest with his wife and two imaginary children.
For more nonsense, visit OldPalMarcus.com.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Thank You!
Thank You, too!
About the Author
Contents
n Archive.
Galaxy Cruise: The Maiden Voyage Page 24