Space Junk

by Andrew Bixler

  “They have a lot of ships, but I bet we have more,” Pete argues. “We might actually be able to pull this off, if we could somehow get everyone on board…”

  “We still haven’t heard from the team,” Bill reminds them. “Without them, we’ll never be able to wrangle all these chidiots.”

  “We’re out of time,” Josh says, nervously twisting his natty beard. “It has to be Todd. As official merch guy, you’re the only one who can unite all the fans. This is your chance to save the team, and maybe the universe. Help us Todd, you’re our only hope.”

  Todd snorts at the thought of trying to organize the confused horde, but as his friends anxiously stare at him through their video feeds, he realizes that they’re serious.

  “Okay Todd,” he whispers to himself. “You can do this. Just think, what would Pants Team Pink do?” He wipes his palms across his battlesuit and glances out at all the misfit scrappers in beat-up, cobbled-together junkers whose fates have been placed in his clammy hands. “Here goes nothing.”

  He leans forward and feels around under the dash for his ship’s emergency kit. After a brief struggle, he dislodges the metal box and pries open the lid to access his tools. Holding a screwdriver between his teeth, he climbs up on his chair and carefully unmounts one of the speakers inside the wall, but not without stripping the screws that held it in place. “Great,” he moans.

  When he unmutes the team chat, battling voices spill from the speaker in his hand:

  BEETLEBONEHEAD: “—got it from a friend of mine. I’m not sure what it does, but it’s supposed to be really powerful, so I’ve been afraid to use it. But now seems like as good a time as ever to try it out.”

  hieronymussloshed: “I don’t know, I kinda like the plain flavor, like a palate cleanser.”

  HerotheGirl: “So what is it already?”

  otaking: “I had the seafood salad flavor once – big mistake.”

  BEETLEBONEHEAD: “Okay, I’ll tell you. But be careful. It’s up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, Select, Start.”

  hotbodybabe: “Are you looking for a affordable loan of up to 10,000 credits? Than you are come to the right place. You are already been pre-approved. Why are you waiting for? APPLY TODAY for get money NOW!”

  HerotheGirl: “What are you talking about? What the fish is select?”

  notcraigfeldspar: “Wow, that’s exactly what I need! I was just thinking I’d love to dig myself into deeper debt. Perfect timing, too. I’m not busy at all. Should I give you my account details right here in the chat? /s”

  Todd lifts the speaker to his ship’s microphone, and feedback screeches through the cabin. To his surprise, the voices quiet.

  “Listen up!” he clears his throat, trying to sound assertive. “This is Todd, official merch guy of Pants Team Pink. As you know, we were planning to meet up at Ferd’s. But it looks like The Foreman and the Ears beat us here. While I don’t think any of us desire to contribute to the violence and destruction so often visited upon this universe, sometimes the only way forward is to fight. The fight, if there is to be one, comes now.” He opens the public feed, hailing every tired scrapper and fighter in the Foreman and Ear fleets. “I implore all of you, fight with us. Cast off the rusty shackles of the old world, so we might create a new and better one. Denounce tyrants and all those who would pit us against each other in an attempt to reduce our lives to numbers on a balance sheet. There are a lot of them, but there are more of us, and so long as goodness exists, there will always be more of us. We will prevail based on the justness of our cause. Remember, this is about more than the black gold. It’s about taking a stand against the powers that oppress and confine us. This is a fight for good. It is a fight for everything – for you, for me, for the universe, for Pants Team Pink!” Cheers erupt from the speakers. “Now let’s blow these guys and go home. I mean… you know what I mean.”

  Outside, the two armies have ceased firing, apparently distracted by the team’s arrival. With a deep breath, Todd steels himself, and flies toward the Ears’ conspicuous flagship. He hails the ship, and the officer’s image appears on the window, grim and full of rage.

  “Greetings,” Todd says, casually. “I’m Todd.”

  “You are speaking to the vice admiral of the United Empires, Todd,” the Ear says. “State your purpose.”

  “We’ve come for Adam Jones’s grandpa.”

  “What?” The Ear winces. “We already released the old man.”

  “Oh…” Todd says. “Then we’ve come for the black gold.”

  “I don’t know who you people are,” the Ear says, “but the black gold is the property of the United Empires. If you want to keep your lives, you will stay out of our way. However, once we’re finished here, you and your friends are welcome to as much of the scrap as your… distinctive ships can carry.”

  “All we want is the black gold,” Todd says, “and we’re not leaving without it. It is our sincerest hope that you, like, hand it over peacefully, so no one gets hurt. Where we go from here is a choice I leave to you.”

  The Ear’s jaw clenches, and his eyes stretch wide. “You are threatening an officer of the most powerful military organization in the universe! From whom do you receive the authority? Who are you people?!”

  Todd shrugs. “We, like, are the authority. We’re Pants Team Pink!”

  “What the fish is Pants Team Pink?” the Ear shrieks. The scowl on his face contorts into a vicious smirk, one with which Todd is all too familiar; it’s the same look the last spacehead who robbed his store had just before the ackle pulled out his space gun.

  Without thinking, Todd plunges his ship forward, and a crackling firebolt whizzes over him. As the Ear recovers from the shock of missing his target, Todd sees his opening and returns fire. The Ear’s ship bursts apart in a blinding flash, and for a moment everything is still.

  Todd stares at the wreckage and, recovering himself, declares, “The treasure belongs to Pants Team Pink, you guys!”

  Cheering and shouting obscenities, the team unleashes a wild burst of fire that lights the sky. The UE and Foreman fleets hesitate, and their front lines instantly turn into towering walls of white flame.

  With a newfound confidence, Todd enters the fray performing acrobatics of which he didn’t realize he was capable. He makes a mental reminder to tell his mom just how wrong she was about all those years he ‘wasted’ playing video games.

  As he turns to make another pass, a commercial for Ferd’s pops up on the window, obscuring his view. “Have yuh heard? We got it all at—”

  Todd frantically swipes the ad away in time to see a bolt of light shooting toward him. He swerves to avoid it, but not fast enough, and it clips his ship’s hull. The G.S.S. Minnow immediately enters emergency mode; its warning lights begin flashing and it jerkily decelerates. Todd desperately tries to get the ship moving again, but it won’t budge.

  As frenetic fire breaks out around him, he fumbles under the dash for his other emergency kit. A sticker on the front of the box warns, in big red letters, ‘IN CASE OF EMERGENCY CONSUME CONTENTS.’ He carefully places the box in his lap and flips open the lid to reveal four cans of lukewarm Ol’ Guard. The first one goes down so smooth he immediately starts feeling a little better about the whole situation.

  As Todd reaches for his second can, a UE cruiser pulls up outside his window. Unable to think of a better course of action, he cracks the tepid beer and starts guzzling. An opening in the front of the Ear’s ship begins to glow, and Todd braces himself.

  But before the Ear can fire, an official Pants Team Pink team member swoops down and reduces it to scrap.

  “That was a close one,” Todd says, shielding his eyes from the explosion. “In case I don’t make it out of this…” He takes a tape from his duffel bag and pushes it into the player mounted on the dash. As the video starts, the skyline of an ancient Earth city called Seattle is outlined across the window. “The universe ends not with a bang, but with Frasier.”

  As
the battle rages around him, Todd can’t help but wonder how differently things might have turned out had Marty never moved into the Elliott Bay Towers.

  While Todd is watching TV and gulping beer, the number of enemy ships begins to dwindle under the team’s relentless assault. When the first big group of contract scrappers deserts the Foreman fleet, it initiates a large-scale retreat, and the team starts spouting off triumphantly.

  DrunKenSink: “Yahooo! We got ‘em on the run!”

  lookbehindyouclavin: “The Ears are about to pop!”

  rerorerorero: “Now it’s time for their punishment, baby.”

  SPACE ADDICT: “What’s happening?”

  super_macho_man: “My body is just so totally brule!”

  intoxikate: “They shoulda known not to mess with Pants Team Pink!”

  haverchuck4president: “TCB, baby! Every day!!!”

  “What is an Ear to do?” Todd says, cracking open his last beer and toasting the makeshift dawn as fire rains down over what’s left of the UE and Foreman fleets. As the barrage intensifies, the explosions start a chain reaction which swells beyond the size of Ferd’s moon and radiates out in bright, reaching waves, temporarily transforming the eternal night sky into day.

  Adam pauses mid-chug and lowers his beer to glance around the cockpit. Grandpa is strapped into the passenger seat, nervously trembling and rubbing his bony fingers together as, outside, a broken-down ICA van which happens to be carrying some very precious cargo is surrounded by an army of militant scrappers.

  “There’s something very familiar about all this…” Adam says.

  Grandpa turns and tells him, “You don’t need it—”

  “That’s the beauty of the universe,” Adam says, before Grandpa can finish. “There’s always more junk.”

  Grandpa puts his hands down and gives Adam a confused look. “Uh, yeah…”

  “Have we been here before?” Adam asks.

  “About to fly recklessly into a hostile armed conflict and to our certain doom?” Grandpa says. “Not to the best of my recollection, no. Though, now that you mention it…”

  “Well then…” Adam finishes off the last sip of his beer and tosses the empty can over his shoulder. “There’s a first time for everything.” He places his hand on the accelerator. But before he can shove it forward, something causes him to hesitate, and a video feed pops up on the window.

  “Looks like I’m going to have to save your life all over again,” Daizy says as her dinky junker pulls up in front of his ship.

  “Get out of my way,” Adam tells her.

  “Stop being such a chidiot,” she says. “That must be The Foreman’s entire fleet out there – tens of thousands of hard contract scrappers who have sold their lives to her. How do you plan to defeat them all?”

  “I don’t know,” Adam says. “I’ll figure out something. I always do.”

  “You can’t win,” she tells him, her furry triangle ears drooping. “I know it doesn’t seem fair. But you know what they say about all being fair in space love and space war…”

  “That it is?” Adam says.

  “You should listen to her.” Grandpa waves at the screen. “Hello again!”

  “Hi, Grandpa!” Daizy says.

  Elbowing Adam’s arm, Grandpa says, “I stand corrected – that’s the beauty of the universe.”

  While Grandpa and Daizy are busy exchanging pleasantries, a second, endless wave of ships approaches Ferd’s, these displaying the grim black and white markings of the United Empires, and Adam can see his opportunity slipping away.

  “This is my last chance,” Adam says as the giant fleet sails toward the defenseless van. “Get out of my way.”

  “You’re crazy,” Daizy says.

  “I’m not crazy,” Adam tells her. “I’m just gold-oriented.”

  “Do whatever you want,” she says. “But if you want to get to the black gold, you’ll have to go through me.”

  “You can’t take on two of the biggest, most advanced armies the universe has ever known all by yourself,” Grandpa says.

  “I have to try,” Adam says. “Nobody ever won by giving up.”

  Their argument is abruptly silenced by an eruption outside as the ICA van bursts into a ball of white flame. The explosion blazes bright for a moment and is quickly snuffed out by the vacuum of space, leaving behind nothing but a smattering of scorched metal.

  “Wh-oa…” Adam says, gawking at the wreck. “That could’ve been me.”

  Daizy smacks herself in the forehead. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “I just didn’t think…”

  “Yeah, big surprise,” Grandpa says.

  Unable to take his eyes off the window, Adam says, “I’ve been in a lot of scrapes before… I’ve always come out okay.”

  Daizy shakes her head and slumps against the dash. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome.”

  “I would’ve died,” Adam says. “But I’m alive. I’ve been given a second chance. I’m not going to waste it. I vow to live better from now on. I’m going to start taking full advantage of every space second. You’re going to see a whole new me!” He searches the cabin for a way to manifest his renewed lust for life and finally settles for another beer.

  On the other side of the window, a war is erupting. Streamers of white fire rip through metal and flesh with grim efficiency, setting the sky ablaze with technicolor death.

  “Chit, I hope Ferd’s doesn’t get caught in the crossfire,” Adam says.

  “I hope we don’t get caught in it,” Grandpa says, wringing his hands and shaking.

  Looking off-screen, Daizy says, “Grandpa’s right. We should get out of here while we still can.”

  “Hold on a second.” Adam glances between them, grinning. “This could be a golden opportunity. These chidiots are going to end up destroying themselves. When they do, I’ll get another chance at the black gold.”

  Daizy balls her fists and groans, “Urghh… are you serious? Haven’t you learned anything from this whole mess?”

  Jutting his finger toward the window, Grandpa shouts, “Do you see what’s going on out there?”

  “Don’t you at least want to find out who wins?” Adam asks.

  “I just hope it’s not The Foreman,” Daizy says. “Or she’ll be after me for the rest of my short life.”

  “The Ears are too many and too organized,” Grandpa says. “She’s putting up a good fight, but I don’t think it’s going to be enough.”

  Grandpa’s assessment soon proves accurate as the Ears methodically lay waste to the Foreman fleet. With the battle reaching its climax and the Ears poised to maintain their stranglehold over the black gold, along with the rest of the universe, Adam’s thoughts drift toward Daizy.

  “So… what are you gonna do after this?” he asks her.

  “If I’m not running from The Foreman, who knows?” She shrugs and lets out a nervous laugh. “It’s lucky she pays well. I’ve still got enough saved from the last job to carry me for a while. I’ll probably head back to the starline. Seems like a good place to start. From there, I’ll go where the solar winds take me.”

  “You mean you had plenty of crits this whole time?” Adam says. “But you made me pay for your ticket to Earth.”

  “You’re the reason my ship got wrecked,” she says. “You owed me.”

  Looking into her big wet eyes, he can’t manage to stay angry. “Well, I hope things work out for you.”

  “What about you?” Reaching into a plastic bag lying on the dash, she tosses a brown pellet into her mouth and crunches it between her sharp teeth. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m going to have a beer and a smoke, and then I’ll probably take a nap,” Adam says. “After that, I guess I’ll go back to scrapping together a living. It’s sort of all I know how to do.”

  “Yeah, but besides that,” she says.

  “What do you mean, besides that? What else is there?”

  “Well…” Daizy smir
ks and her ears perk up. “You could come with me. We could team up. It would be nice to have someone else around for a change. It would be less lonely, anyway.”

  Adam glances over at the old man in the passenger seat. “Thanks, but this is my home. I can’t leave. Who would look after Grandpa?”

  “Oh yeah…”

  “Uchh-hh,” Grandpa clears his throat and nudges Adam in the ribs.

  “What?” Adam asks, but Grandpa just shakes his head.

  As fire furiously crisscrosses the sky and The Foreman’s fleet dwindles, it appears all but certain, barring some universe-upending miracle, that the Ears will emerge victorious.

  “Looks like it’s going to go your way,” Adam says.

  “What the fish is that?” Daizy asks.

  “What? Do I have a booger?”

  “No,” she says. “There’s something behind us.”

  Adam checks his rearview and sees what look like stars bobbing along the edge of space.

  “They’re coming this way,” Daizy warns.

  “Is the universe finally closing in on me?” Adam asks.

  “I don’t think we should stick around to find out,” she says.

  “Would you listen to her?” Grandpa grumbles.

  “Fine, you win,” Adam says.

  Bidding a silent farewell to the black gold, and the life that could have been, Adam pulls his ship around and follows Daizy out into open space. The war gradually shrinks behind him, but small bursts of light continue to flash in his rearview long after the ships have faded into the distance.

  Sailing into the dark, with nowhere to run, the weight of all that has happened finally crashes down on him, and he nearly topples over onto the floor, sobbing. He turns toward the passenger seat to check on Grandpa, but the old man is already dozing, his chin rested on his chest.

  “Well, that’s over,” Adam says, wiping his eyes. “You know,” he tells Daizy, “if you’re looking for someplace to go, you could stay with me. I could clear some space in the back.”