Undeath by chocolate

“We’ve done a root cause analysis, Commander Lee; the problem is us.”

“Spit it out, Ensign, and don’t sugar coat it.”

“Um,” began the Ensign “, we’re the problem?”

“Yes, yes, I got that bit, Ensign. I was hoping for a little more information.”

“Oh, sorry, I see, Commander,” replied the Ensign, considerably more cheerful, having cleared up the confusion.

“Well…” said Lee with the type of theatrical wave that a grizzled space veteran makes at a junior officer in lieu of throwing them into a garbage compactor. Failing to stifle that urge early in her career had cost Lee any chance of her own command for a very dull decade. In retrospect, it hadn’t been worth it, but from time to time, she still secretly smiled at the memory of the soles of that Ensign’s boots disappearing into wherever those stainless-steel chutes go.

“Sorry, Commander, that was all that they told me.”

“I see. Please go back to the Chief Scientist and ask her if she could bore me with some details, will you?”

“Of course, Commander,” replied the Ensign over his shoulder as he cheerily beetled away without anything even approximating a salute.

“I swear they get stupider each year, Commander. Supply ship has successfully docked.”

“Thank you, Dockmaster. What’s the cargo on this one?”

“More sugar from the new mine, Commander.”

“Oh, I see, a bit late for those, isn’t it? The Board meeting just finished.”

The small, furry Dockmaster turned towards Lee, projecting the docking bay visuals into the gap between them.

“Look at that rust bucket, Commander. I wouldn’t like to be the Logistics drone who has to explain why they chartered that for Board catering provisions.”

Lee peered at the image, “what’s wrong with those crew members, Ted?”

Chief Scientists are not usually ones for dramatic entrances. They generally prefer to slink quietly in and out of venues, command decks and kitchens. Drama is for press conferences and Science Department staff meetings, not for flight control decks. Which is why the sight of the Chief Scientist flying backwards through the bulkhead in a whirlwind of flapping lab coat and flying hair was such a surprise.

“Seal it now!” she screamed as she bounced off a control panel, lighting the board up like a miniature rainbow.

Ted reacted fastest, slapping his paw down onto his board. The bulkhead iris twisted shut, neatly decapitating the Ensign that was hurling itself after the Chief Scientist.

The hapless Ensign’s head bounced across the deck, coming to a halt just short of where the Chief Scientist was trying to recover from her undignified entrance. To everyone’s surprise, the Ensign’s head rolled over and started dragging itself forward again with its teeth.

The entire crew started shouting at once, stopping only when the unexpectedly self-propelled head even more unexpectedly exploded.

“Will. Someone. Please. Explain. That?” Lee requested, flicking her blaster’s safety on.

As one, the command deck turned towards the tiny scientist.

Taking a deep breath, she drew herself up to her full height and looked up at the Commander. “In short, Commander Lee, it would appear that our company mines are either contaminated with or producing substances of superior lethality with hitherto unknown transmutative or reanimatitive properties.”

“Did you just make reanimatitive up, Juliet?”

“Discovered, Commander,” the Chief Scientist paused for a moment’s reflection. “Given the current state of the rest of the research team, I think I can safely say that I discovered it, Commander.”

Lee shook her head. “Situation report, Ted.”

Ted, who had been busily scanning through the security subsystems, flicked through a series of feeds.

“Docking Bay’s a bloodbath, Commander.”

“Nothing alive in Medical.”

“Can’t see what’s happening in Engineering, but the power supplies seem to be completely overrun.”

“How’s it looking in the Board Room?” asked Lee.

“Not pretty,” replied Ted, “I think the CFO has just been dragged out. Those look like his shoes. He was holding them off at the drinks cabinet for a while, but it looks like he was the last of the executive.”

Lee winced and looked away, struggling to keep herself in check. “How did this reanimatitive thing get on my ship?”

“I have an untested hypothesis that I’d like to….”

Juliet convulsed.

“Sugar,” she gasped, “contaminated….”

Ignoring all corporate missives on summary executions of senior company officials, Ted emptied a magazine into Juliet then calmly reloaded. He felt Lee’s back against his.

“How many magazines do you have left, Ted.”

“Just the two. You?”

“This is my last,” the Commander said, slamming the clip home.

“Damn, Lee.”

“I know. Can you plough us into that mine from here?”

“Already done,” replied Ted.

Lee nodded, sizing up which of her ex-command was going down first.

They held their fire as the crew circled, no point wasting shots just yet. Lee regretted not throwing more of them into garbage chutes when she’d had the chance.

They attacked as the collision warning klaxons sounded. Rushing from every corner of the deck. Clawing at each other in a frenzied attempt to be first to the Commander and Dockmaster.

Blaster bolts ripped through flesh and bone and ricocheted off the walls. Screams and wails were drowned out by the sirens. Finally, moments before impact, the shooting stopped. The last bolt bouncing off the roof, slicing through a control panel and knocking the plate with the last two uneaten slices of chocolate cake onto the floor.