An Attempt at Planet-Stealing
“They’re not using it,” gurgled the First Mate. “It’s just a red blurry dot to them. So why can’t we take it?”
The captain shrugged, his eye-stalks blinking in the cold light of the starship bridge. “Well, we could… but they have landed on it. That counts for something, shouldn’t it?”
“Only robot landers,” the First Mate said. “Which don’t even work, most of them. They haven’t done a real manned landing yet.”
“Ah,” the captain said. “And you’ve checked with tactical? We could blast the thing, strip what we want, and get out of there with no trouble?”
“No trouble at all!” the First Mate said confidently. “Their weapons can’t match ours. They don’t even have light-speed drive!”
“Indeed,” the captain said, interested at last. “Well, then. Let’s go steal their planet.”
An hour later, the slim grey starship appeared above the surface of Mars. There seemed to be nothing in its path. A panel opened on its side, and a metal firing arm emerged. A green light shone ominously at the end of the firing arm. “You may fire when ready,” the captain said leisurely.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” a new voice said. Every being on the bridge turned. There, by the science station, stood what appeared to be a human, except this one had two flowing wings and a halo, which it was casually tossing in one hand. “Otherwise,” the figure said, “Things could get messy.”
“Who’re you?” spluttered the First Mate.
“Ron. Angel, first class. It’s complicated, you wouldn’t understand. Point is, this planet is under protection. So’s the next one over. You can’t have it. So I’d advise backing off, if I were you.”
The captain, alarmed as he was to find an intruder on his bridge, was not about to back off just like that. “Or what?” he demanded.
Ron let fly the halo. It flashed across the bridge and embedded itself neatly in a computer panel just below the forward viewscreen. The panel promptly exploded in a shower of golden sparks, and every panel near it lit up in wild rows of flaring lights. The alien officers responsible for the panels and lights ran about and flailed their tentacles in mad panic. In the midst of it all, Ron coolly walked over and retrieved his halo. “Or that. And more. Do I make myself clear?”
The captain sighed. “Fine. First Mate, reverse quilithium thrusters, full power. Course one-two-seven, mark four.”
“Aye, sir!” the First Mate said.
Ron smiled and disappeared. The spaceship slid away from sight. The red planet rolled on unharmed. The captain, meanwhile, slumped in his chair, his eye-stalks wilting. Perhaps, he mused, it was time to think about retirement.
