Journal Entry: 02.12.24 – Navi Topaz
The Mayhem’s common area became an impromptu debate club today, with Luap and I locked in a ludicrous battle over our tanning lamp. “I need it for spiritual alignment,” Luap declared, as serious as a Jedi. “The light helps align my chakras.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Chakras? Really, Luap? I need it to keep my skin from turning the same shade as the ship’s hull. It’s a health issue.”
Our arguments escalated in their absurdity. Luap claimed the lamp was key to his ‘inner peace,’ while I argued it was essential for maintaining ‘optimal vitamin D levels for peak performance.’
Captain Kir, overhearing our ridiculous exchange, intervened with a smirk. “Enough, you two. We’re implementing a lamp schedule. And to ensure fairness, I’ll keep it in my quarters when not in use.”
Undeterred, Luap and I hatched a plan to ‘liberate’ it. Sneaking through the ship’s dimly lit corridors, we were like two spies in a holovid, whispering codes and dodging imaginary lasers. Our mission came to a sudden halt when Werdna Cutlass appeared around a corner. Luap and I froze, standing as still as statues, convinced that our motionlessness rendered us invisible. Werdna, eyebrow raised, looked us over, then shrugged and continued on his way, muttering about ‘moonlight madness.’
As soon as Werdna was out of sight, Luap fiddled with the lock on Kir’s door, his fingers surprisingly nimble despite their size. With a triumphant click, the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit sanctum of our captain.
Inside, we tiptoed like cartoon thieves, Luap pointing dramatically at every creak and groan of the ship as if they were alarm bells. I stifled a laugh when he accidentally knocked over a stack of datapads, frantically catching them before they hit the ground.
We located the lamp, perched atop Kir’s personal belongings. As Luap reached for it, a squeaky floorboard betrayed us. Kir’s voice boomed from behind, “What in the galaxy…?”
We spun around to find Kir, arms folded, trying hard not to smile at our guilty expressions. Our explanation, a jumble of half-baked excuses and giggles, only made him shake his head in amusement.
Caught red-handed, Luap and I made a dash for it, lamp in tow. We sprinted down the hallway, pushing each other and laughing, the lamp swinging wildly between us. Behind us, Kir’s chuckles echoed, a rare sound of mirth aboard the Mayhem.
Navi Topaz,
First Mate of the SMC Mayhem
