Live from Planet Frystar

2. The Smoaklin Unionizes

Galek Zim and Brivnor continued staring at the tiny, soot-covered creature that had just crawled out of the ship's circuits.

The thing coughed up a cloud of black smoke, patted itself down as if checking for injuries, then glared up at them with beady, furious eyes.

Then it spoke.

Its voice was the vocal equivalent of sandpaper, like someone who had spent the last forty years chain-smoking industrial-grade reactor fumes.

"Alright, listen here, pal," the smoaklin rasped, every syllable sounding like it had been dragged through gravel.

Galek jumped back so fast he nearly tripped over a discarded engine coil. "Did that thing just talk?!"

"Why yes, Galek. You've just met a Smoaklin. A highly intelligent, if highly annoying, species known for inhabiting malfunctioning machines and demanding absurd fees to leave."

Brivnor scratched his head. "Wait... so that's why my ship kept playing polka music every time I hit the brakes?"

"Well, technically, the sound was a combination of high-pitched tonal bursts and low-frequency resonances that would be unrecognizable to human ears. But in the interest of translation, the closest equivalent would be (unfortunately) polka."

The smoaklin gave a smoky, wheezy chuckle. "Hah! You should've heard the original. Real masterpiece." The smoaklin crossed its tiny, grime-covered arms. "You're welcome."

Galek ran a hand down his face. "Okay. Nope. I do not have the energy for this. Out. Out of the ship. Get lost."

The smoaklin huffed, insulted. "Excuse me?! I've been living in this fine establishment for three years! Rent-free, I might add! And now you just expect me to pack up and leave?"

"It appears Galek has stumbled upon the worst kind of alien lifeform: one that knows its tenant rights. "

Galek clenched his jaw. "This isn't a building, it's an engine core."

The smoaklin scoffed. "It's a home, buddy." It gestured dramatically at the burnt wires and exposed circuits. "See that heat vent? Perfect sauna. That loose cable? Great for charging my devices. And that busted air filter? Would've fixed it myself, but you mechanics get all territorial."

Brivnor nudged Galek. "Uh... what do we do?"

Galek sighed. "Okay, what will it take to get you out of there?"

The smoaklin rubbed its tiny, grubby hands together and grinned. "Glad you asked! I require..."

• A bowl of warm engine coolant, aged to perfection.
• A cushy new home inside a different ship, preferably one with better insulation.
• A small financial payout, to be determined by my emotional distress.

Galek blinked slowly. "You're shaking me down."

The smoaklin grinned wider. "I prefer the term 'negotiating compensation.'"

"And thus, the mechanic faces his greatest challenge yet: space capitalism."

Galek exhaled sharply through his nose. "I swear, if I had a vacuum, you'd already be halfway to a landfill."

The smoaklin mockingly gasped. "Wow. Just wow. Can't believe you'd threaten an honest, hard-working inhabitant of this fine starship. I thought we were friends."

Brivnor tilted his head. "Hey... wait a second. If you've been here for three years, how have I never noticed you before?"

The smoaklin shrugged. "You're an idiot."

Brivnor frowned. "... Fair."

Galek rubbed his temples. "Fine. I'm not paying you."

The smoaklin pouted. "Rude."

Galek pointed a wrench at it. "But I will get you a different home. Something better than this junkyard. "

The smoaklin considered the offer. "Better insulation?"

"Better insulation."

"Central heating?"

Galek sighed. "... Sure."

The smoaklin tapped its chin. "Hmm... alright, fine. I'll accept your mediocre deal."

"And so, the greatest negotiation of Galek's career comes to a successful, if slightly humiliating, conclusion."

Galek scowled at the sky. "I hate you."

Now that Galek had negotiated peace with the soot-covered smoaklin, he needed to put it somewhere safe until he could find a new "home" for it.

He picked up a rusty spare-parts bin, dumped out some old wires, and carefully placed the smoaklin inside.

The smoaklin immediately stood up, hands on its hips. "Excuse me. What is this?!"

Galek wiped his hands. "Temporary housing."

"And here we see Galek, believing he can contain chaos in a box. A foolish mistake."

The smoaklin grinned. "Ohhh, you messed up, buddy."

Before Galek could react, the tiny creature launched itself out of the bin, grabbed a loose wiring coil, and started swinging around the workshop like some kind of deranged, soot-covered space Tarzan.

Galek's eye twitched. "I should've used a vacuum."

The smoaklin grabbed a wrench, chucked it across the room, and cackled. "LIBERATION!!"

"The mechanic faces an ancient dilemma: How does one contain a creature that thrives on pure, unfiltered chaos?"

"GET BACK HERE!"

The smoaklin hopped onto a workbench, kicked over a container of coolant fluid, and disappeared behind a pile of scrap metal.

Galek lunged after it.