Charyd patted the sucker on the back. “I’ll come help ya clean.”

“Sorry man. I figured we could bond.” They walked out of the control room, the doors automatically closing behind them and air pressuring the room. “C. P. is uptight. They're all afraid about pirates ruining this trip for them.”

“Didn’t they already catch them?”

“Yeah, no one is going to take this ship again. They’d be an idiot. Captain Posey was denied this ship twice according to rumors. Kicked from a special program, then having the pirates steal it? She is really determined to have it though. This mission? This is what’s going to prove to the higher-ups she can keep it.”

Everything they said was history Charyd already knew. The path to the weapons bay was intelligently placed next to the control room. They climbed the ladder to get near the dorsal fin where the Lightning Strike was set up to charge and run. A strong current is ready to be built up between the dorsal and ray fins. The direction changed by the tiniest signal sent from the pectoral fins. As silly as the ship looked, it was befitting for seas. The display panel that ran the diagnostics was next to the entrance into the weapon itself. On the panel entrance was a fish with multiple pointy teeth drawn, maw wide open, and a red mohawk. The space academy symbol of the satellite and fighter jet were being eaten in its path.

The room lit up as Darkstorm’s human representation hologram appeared, hand pointing at the display. “New security protocol. You need to scan your biochips to enter the weapon’s room.”

Charyd shrugged. He reached his right arm out, bare of any tattoos like a proper space cadet. The light scanned where the chip sat. “Flight Officer Charyd, access granted.” The Darkstorm’s human face smiled. The marksman did the same. “Gunner Officer Boil, access granted - after you clean this mark.”

“Yo… Charyd? You know that–”

“I know!” Charyd interrupted before he had to listen to yet another rant on how he had the same name as the galaxy’s most famous pirate. The same one that had stolen the Darkstorm immediately after it was finished. 

Well. Joke’s on them.

“You know that Charyd is a very popular name for my species, right? One dude! One dude uses it and suddenly we’re all pirates about to mutiny and take over the galaxy!”

The human visage of the Darkstorm visibly laughed even if there was no sound to accompany it. It vanished before Boil could notice.

“Sucks man, but you gotta clean this,” Charyd pointed to the piranha. He opened up the panel and passed it to Boil. 

Boil grumbled, placing the panel on the ground to go get cleaning supplies. The cables to run a jagged Lightning Strike were organized in perfect steps around the small compartment. The typical warning signs of the DME pipes were visible. Most people avoided touching them. Charyd reached behind them, elongating his fingers to reach further, and stuck a small bottle cap-sized smoke bomb. Sneaking a real bomb on board would have set all the alarms off. These caps were enough to give the illusion of a bomb. Add in the flare of a pulled evacuation trigger, and the ship would easily be his. Then he could get his crew back.

He knew where to hide the last four bombs too. He slid down the ladder, sticking another below the bottom rung.

“Thought you said you would help clean?” An equal-ranking officer walking the halls approached him. His eyes glared down at the last rung.

“I should really go back and study that new path, to get better at my job.”

“Stupid aliens.”

Charyd was never cut out for the rigid social structures of the military. His human fist solidified into a brick and quickly smashed at the asshole’s head. The human had no time to react and was knocked unconscious. His body collapsed down with a satisfying thump.  

Everyone was a critic of every type of alien race in space. Never mind that the Captain was Shacor species. Never mind that half the crew were not human. Just because Cadoon’s first settlers were humans did not mean they ran the whole system. The racial slurs were common but completely unjustified. Charyd was the most intimate critic, the amoebas of the universe, able to shift and learn a species’s language in no time. It made his species perfect for navigation and communications. Also perfect at hiding his real identity. Along with all the fake ones too. He felt the weight of the tiny biometric chip hiding in the frequency identification protector in his pocket. He was currently Flight Officer Charyd, the chip stolen from a man that fell asleep at the bar. The coincidence of him having the same name as the famed Pirate Captain Charyd was a joke that only his crew would get. He couldn’t wait to get them back so he had someone to laugh with about this. 

His boot kicked the officer on the ground. He was already under a time constraint and now he had to hide this loser’s body. No one would be going to the gym right now, but that was past the mess hall. He might run into Boil by then. He adjusted his body’s muscles and picked up the body. He took two steps down the hall when suddenly a metal panel popped open next to him. Inside the large cavity were various pipes and cables for the ship. Barely large enough to fit a human. He stuffed the guy in and slid the panel into place. It did not lock. He shifted it around, trying to figure out what made it pop but nothing worked. Until he remembered he was on the Darkstorm.

“Thank you,” Charyd said to the air.

The Darkstorm did not reply but the panel clicked with a satisfying lock. He tapped on the panel, but no echo was heard on the other side. 

Convenient.