Stardate: Who keeps track anymore?
Thanksgiving aboard the Mayhem has always been a makeshift affair, but this year, Kir’s decided to go all out, proclaiming it a time for ‘team spirit’ and ‘gratitude’ – two things I didn’t think he could say without a sneer. But there we were, the whole motley crew of us, gathered around a table cobbled together from spare cargo panels, the room adorned with miscellaneous parts repurposed into decorations by Tav’s nimble hands – and I use the term ‘decorations’ as loosely as Luap’s grip on social niceties.
Werdna, our resident forger and surprisingly adept cook, had taken it upon himself to replicate a traditional Thanksgiving feast. The turkey, a questionable protein composite shaped into something resembling a bird, was a new low, or high, depending on how desperate for a taste of home you were. As for the rest of the meal, let’s just say that if taste was a form of art, this was Werdna’s abstract period.
Tam, predictably, was taunting Tav about the ‘exotic’ stuffing, suggesting it was filled with the same material we use for thermal insulation. Tav, in return, was threatening to hide Tam’s next shipment of contraband in a place even the keenest customs officer wouldn’t dare to search. All the while, Bi – ever the peacemaker – was trying to decipher whether Quebec’s latest series of beeps and whirs were a critique of the meal or a commentary on the company.
Kir raised his glass for a toast, his expression as solemn as if he were addressing the Galactic Senate rather than a bunch of misfits. “To the Sarlacc Squadron,” he began, “the most infuriating, insubordinate, and indomitable family I’ve ever had the misfortune to care about.”
We drank, and for a moment, there was a sense of unity, a feeling of belonging. That’s when the real surprise came – the turkey, or what passed for one, began to move. It unfolded itself, revealing it wasn’t a turkey at all but one of Bi’s experimental droid projects gone awry. The thing clucked mechanically, a confused concoction of wires and servos, causing a ripple of laughter and disbelief.
And just when we thought it couldn’t get any weirder, Luap, with his deadpan delivery, quipped, “Looks like dinner’s making a run for it. Shall we set blasters to roast?”
In the end, the rogue turkey-droid led us on a merry chase through the Mayhem’s corridors, a far better team-building exercise than any of Kir’s drills. As we finally cornered the clucking contraption in the cargo bay, Tam, out of breath but grinning, declared, “Best. Thanksgiving. Ever.”
And you know what? He wasn’t wrong.
Navi Topaz
First Mate of the SMC Mayhem
