They Flu By the Seat of Their Pants | @Ideologically

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It was midnight at the Intergalactic Space Station B217, and its only active officers were busy telling each other the silliest space jokes they could think of, because clearly they didn't understand the gravity of their situation

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It was midnight at the Intergalactic Space Station B217, and its only active officers were busy telling each other the silliest space jokes they could think of, because clearly they didn't understand the gravity of their situation.

Technically speaking, Joss and Heller weren’t even officers. They’d been promoted in a hurry two weeks into their internship program at B217 due to a deadly disease they brought with them from Earth: the common cold. While the two Earthlings were only mildly inconvenienced, the rest of the B217 crew was incapacitated.

In a desperate attempt to keep the place running, their superiors promoted Joss and Heller to positions higher up than they deserved… which was why they were sitting in the control room, unaware that they had switched on the intercom by accident. The convalescent crew of B217 was now being subject to jokes and flirtations that were evidently not meant for outside ears.

Joss winked and tossed their head, making their long ponytail swing. ‘Sergeant Heller?’ they said.

‘Yes, Sergeant Joss?’ Neither of them lost any opportunity to flaunt their new titles at each other.

'Shall we head on to the space bar when we’re done with mission control?’

‘Why, yes, Sergeant Joss.’ Heller gave a loud giggle, which set off the both of them into yet another burst of laughter. ‘I heard—’ and here Heller choked on his words ‘—I heard the drinks there are stellar.’

I heard we can get Starbucks coffee from there, too!’

From the sickbay, the commanding officer of the B217 mission groaned and covered her head with a pillow, hoping it would muffle the excruciating nonsense she was being forced to put up with. Another loud peal of laughter dashed her hopes.

‘What did the astronauts say after arguing with each other?’ Heller asked with a big grin.

‘What?’

But before Heller could deliver the punchline, a sudden screech ripped through the speakers, cutting their conversation short. ‘...copy, this is Captain Das from Starship 4218, do you copy?’

Joss and Heller froze. In the ensuing silence, the two could hear things crashing on the other end, followed by several colourful curses and a deep, bloodcurdling growl.

‘Did they uh, say starfish?’ Joss asked.

‘Starship 4218 to IGSS B217, do you copy?’ Captain Das repeated, and this time there was a note of panic in their voice — and strain, as if they were putting all their strength into restraining something.

The two officers exchanged horrified looks. ‘Um… what do you reckon?’ Heller whispered. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end.

‘B217, this is an emergency, damn it!’

‘Uh,’ Joss stammered, grabbing the headphones and jamming it onto their head. They adjusted the mic, nearly sticking it into their mouth in the process; no doubt the commander would have been horrified had she been there to see it. ‘This is Sergeant Joss from the uhh—’ they paused, scrunching their forehead as they struggled to recall the name of the station.

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