Calvin was super-bored with the fact that his main thing right now was running around Rupert's ship with no real goal in mind for how to escape. Other than a few trite interactions with the villains of the piece, there wasn't a real lot else to do. None of his friends to exchange ideas with, no one to yell at or slow him down… Heck, he didn't even have something important to carry around and keep safe. Just running around the ship and doing nothing of interest while everyone undoubtedly had more exciting things to do. It wasn't the most entertaining part of the adventure.

Still, it was more interesting than just being locked up, so here he was.

Walking further into the ship, he tried to remember where he was going. He hadn't been here in a long time, but his brief stint disguised as one of the crew had given him some idea of the layout. He ran to where he knew the main flight deck was. He ran up the ramps and through the open hatchway – these aliens rarely locked anything – before skidding to a halt inside.

The place was huge. Possibly the size of a football field. Multiple levels with computer columns that stretched and twisted all the way up to the third-floor ceiling. Gantries lined the walls with more computers and flashing lights. It made Calvin wonder if these idiots actually knew how any of this stuff worked.

Speaking of those 'these idiots', he wasn't surprised to run into a few of the alien crew, all sitting idly in their weird-looking alien chairs and playing games on the computers. There was even a Zokian version of Solitaire.

Calvin attempted sneaking into the room, but alas, Biff looked up from his game and spotted him. "Oh, hey! Earth Potentate guy! What brings you here?"

Calvin froze where he stood, his mind racing, and then he remembered that they were idiots and thus would be fairly easy to lie to. "Oh… you know, just out and about. Needed to stretch the old legs."

"I know what that's like," laughed Danny. "Except for the legs part."

"So, can we do anything for you?" Biff asked.

"Nah, I can help myself. Just gonna… you know… look at stuff. Press some buttons. See what happens."

They shrugged good-naturedly. "Eh, suit yourself." They turned back to their various activities.

Calvin rolled his eyes. The main control panel was just ahead, so he put himself down in one of the enormous chairs – they had to be enormous to accommodate their massive tentacles – and got to work looking at the buttons.

There sure were a lot of them. Various colors, some illuminated, some blinking, and others just sitting there looking shifty.

Cracking his knuckles, he knew the best way to go about this – push a bunch and see what happens. His fingers jabbed into one button after the other. With any luck, one of these would enable him to alter the ship's flight path, if not back to Earth, then at least away from Zok, delaying the trip.

Around the room, the various buttons did their jobs. Biff and Danny looked up to the sound of the windshield wipers activating, and then saw the cleaning droids come into the room to do some vacuuming. The lights dimmed, then brightened, then shut off completely, then came back on in various colors. Music came on, then disappeared, then different music came on, then disappeared. The chairs went into massage mode, shaking them around a bit. Then, the chairs declined and reclined and went back again, making them dizzy.

Calvin ignored all of this as he tried to find the right button to give himself control of the ship. He knew if he just continued what he was doing, then process of elimination would point him in the direction of the correct button. Had to be something useful here. There just had to be.

At last, with the room full of flashing lights, annoying music, cleaning droids and malfunctioning chairs, he pressed a button that made the big screen in front of him change graphics.

Please Enter New Flight Path

Finally, Calvin thought with great relief. He went to start typing.

Alas, it was not meant to be, because at that moment, there was a rumbling from somewhere deep inside the ship.

"What's that?" he asked.

Biff looked around in confusion. "Well… the last time we had a shaking like this, it was because we accidentally set off the nuclear warheads in the basement… but that shouldn't happen now…"

"Unless somebody pushed the button that remote activates them," Danny pointed out.

"True, but that probably isn't what's happening. I mean, we all know not to push that button."

Calvin looked at the myriad of buttons he had just pressed and gulped. "Yeah… we all know…"

Then, he noticed the room was growing brighter, and the source of light was definitely coming from above him. Looking up, he saw the ceiling was emitting an ethereal white glow as it warped and bent slightly, like something was trying to push through it.

Then – CRUNCH – something long and dark brown burst through, wriggling madly.

With an undignified yelp, Calvin jumped out of the seat and dove out of the way as it finished forcing its way through, smashing down into the room and stomping around madly.

Biff and Danny whirled around at the noise and stared at it amazement. "Whoa! What's that?"

Calvin fell to the floor and backed away frantically, morbidly fascinated by this new development. "It looks like… legs!"

Indeed, there was more than one of those long ugly things coming down, stomping and thrashing at the world around them. They continued to flail for a few seconds before they bent in Calvin's direction, like they were spotting him for the first time. They lingered for a moment before suddenly retreating back into the white light. The ceiling untwisted and righted itself as the light blinked off.

It was like nothing had happened.

"… Weird," said Biff. He and Danny turned back to their games.

Calvin stared at the ceiling, then at them, and then back at the ceiling. Clearly, they had no idea what was going on, so this wasn't something the aliens were doing. He got up again and dusted himself off, not sure whether or not he should try sitting in the chair again. It had only come down when he tried to use the computers.

It became academic as there was a made scurrying in the corridor, and he turned around in time to see Rupert come slithering in.

"What the heck is going on in here?! What's with all these power fluctuations – you!" he snarled, spotting Calvin. In an instant, he had his blaster out and was aiming it at him.

"Sorry for the noise," said Calvin pleasantly. "Just wanted to borrow the computer."

Rupert growled. "You either come with me or …"

But that's as far as he got before there was a rumbling in the ceiling, and the bright light started shining. A second later, the long ugly legs came down again, stamping furiously and preventing Rupert from attacking. They thrashed around, knocking the blaster from his tentacles.

"Hey!" he shouted. "What is the meaning of this? What are these?!"

"Not yours, I take it?" Calvin asked, already making for the opposite door. "Well, that makes things more interesting. Bye!"

Rupert shouted and tried to force his way past the legs, but suddenly, they retreated back into the ceiling again, like they were never there. Furious, he snatched up his weapon and gave chase after the boy.

Calvin skidded back into the main corridor, his thoughts going at a hundred miles an hour. It was starting to make more sense.

Inside his head, those little voices were talking again.

"The entity the MTM told us about – those were its legs," he said to the others around that table. "It was trying to break into our world."

Spiff scratched his chin. "But why now? What's the point?"

"Trying to effect the outcome of this misadventure?" Stupendous Man suggested.

Tracer nodded. "It would explain a heck of a lot. The air duct collapsing, then the ceiling collapsing on Retro… Heck, the fact that Retro is here at all could be down to the creature's influence."

"The question is…," said Spiff, "…is it on our side? It certainly helped us out by blocking Rupert…"

"But it prevented us from using the flight computer," added Tracer. "Something's up…"

"Neither friend nor foe," said Stupendous Man. "I hate it when the enemy is multifaceted. Makes it less clear whether I should be beating them up."

"Agreed," sighed Calvin. "Whoops, hang on – something's happening."

He blinked and found himself back in the alien corridor. He skidded to a halt before a junction. He recognized it. He turned and saw a very welcome sight at the end of the new corridor. This was the way to the escape pods.

Score!

He turned and made a quick dash towards the outer space life raft that awaited him. If he could just get inside and get it flying, he could start heading back to Earth…

But then, to his horror, the left wall just ahead started to glow again, and he was forced to skid to a stop just before the long ugly legs burst through into his world again, blocking his path to the pods. Yelping, he turned and ran back, the legs seemingly chasing him all the way back to the junction. He got there and started turning towards the path he'd earlier rejected, and it was at that point the legs stopped chasing him. Skidding to a halt, he looked back and saw them just hovering there, almost like they were staring at him.

Tentatively, he backed away, further up the corridor, and they began to retreat back into the wall. Then, he took a few steps towards the junction again, and they started to approach him again, making it fully clear that they were here to prevent his escape.

"Okay…," he said quietly. "Not on my side, then…"

There was a blast of energy close to his head, and he realized that Rupert was coming and already firing, even if he couldn't see him yet. Sighing heavily to himself, he turned and ran up the corridor, while the long legs retreated all the way back into the wall.

In the distance, almost drowned out by the sound of the energy blasts, he could hear Rupert talking into a communicator. "Earl! I need some help out here! Report to Corridor 55-B!"

He could call all he wanted, but Earl wasn't in the mood to answer. He was sitting in a daze at a control panel in the security room, still recovering from his near-death experience in the foundry.

It was a weird thing for him. As a captain, he had faced death many times in his tenure. So many dangerous assignments, so many times to risk life and limb for the mission, on far worse planets than Earth. And with a crew like his, it just made near-death experiences happen more frequently. Still, he had been able to get himself and others out of danger many times before. Self-reliance was what he had come to depend on in these situations. Just how it was.

So imagine how stunned he was that when in a situation he shouldn't have survived, someone had gone to the trouble of saving him, and it had been his worst enemy. He could've just let Earl tumble away and be burned alive, out of his life forever, but instead, he'd stopped and saved him. The boy had saved him.

It was such a weird thing to think and yet, it had definitely happened. How? Why? What had possessed him? Now he was free to hunt the boy again. Didn't he know that?

He was dimly aware of Rupert's voice on the communicator, but he turned it off. Didn't want to hear his voice right now. He still partly blamed himself for Rupert's madness. If they'd just gone ahead and rescued him from that human prison, maybe things would have been different. Maybe not. He knew he shouldn't dwell on the "what if's", but he just wanted to go back to the good old days. Now, Rupert's obsession had caused the collapse of their universal rule and seen their own civilization crumble. It had gone on for too long. Something needed to be done.

He and Rupert had worked well together. A long time ago, they would've made it work. But Rupert had changed, and not for the better. Things had deteriorated between them. Now Earl found himself as much on the receiving end of Rupert's cruelty as their idiot crew. He wondered if the abuse would reduce him to a blithering simpleton like the rest of them. He wondered if his own abuse on the crew had caused their regression into morons…

Earl shook his head. His mind was taking him to weird places that he didn't care for. Zokians were never that great at self-introspection.

He was so busy thinking that he didn't notice Lenny come slithering in.

"Hey, Earl," he said cheerfully. "Everything okay in here?"

His captain didn't look at him, nor did he say anything for a few moments. But then…

"Lenny… do you like working for us?"

Lenny was surprised. He'd never been asked that before. "Oh… I mean… I guess… I do like flying the ship. That's fun. Space travel really cool when you get to steer…"

Earl knew there was more. "But…?" he prompted.

Lenny squirmed a little. "But… things have been changing around here… Like, when we had the… er… shock collars… and all that other stuff, like the yelling and things like that. Not as much fun."

Earl shifted in his seat. "No… No, I suppose they wouldn't be."

"And… well… to be honest, the rest of us have been kind of uncomfortable with where this mission is going. Especially when Rupert wanted to destroy the Earth. Seemed kind of… mean, you know?"

"Very mean," Earl said quietly. "I've been concerned about Rupert lately."

"So have we," agreed Lenny. "I'm kind of… not sure about him. I mean, I'm not sure about a lot of things, but… he's just… yikes."

"Indeed. His obsession has only grown. It's endangering our world."

They sat in silence for a moment. It was a weird thing for Earl to actually have a candid conversation with a member of his own crew. He rarely had the patience, but now, it seemed easier than it ever had before.

"So…," Lenny said at last. "If we're this uncomfortable working for him, why are we?"

Earl blinked. He was actually stumped. Not a good sign.

At that moment, the radar started to make some noise at them, and they both looked to see.

"What's that?" asked Lenny.

"Another ship," said Earl, typing in a few commands for the computer. "Let's see… something familiar about that make and model…"

Lenny's eyes lit up. "Oh! It's those two Annkorians! Whatstheirnames… Gally and Nebby?"

Earl frowned as he performed a scan on the ship. "Indeed, it is…," he said quietly.

Hobbes peered out of the porthole as Galaxoid and Nebular parked alongside the massive battle cruiser floating beside them.

"Okay," said Galaxoid. "We can hack the computers to hide ourselves so they don't know that we're docking, but beyond that, we should come up with a plan."

"Not one of our strong suits," said Sherman dourly.

"Not to worry!" Socrates said eagerly. "I've been in the planning stage for what to do during the entire trip!" He whipped out a notepad. "Once we're aboard, we'll put it into action. It's going to require fake mustaches, extensive plastic surgery, and then we'll use a crate load of whoopee cushions as a diversion!"

Everyone stared at him blankly.

"So wait…," said Andy, trying to keep up, "… we get the false mustaches after the plastic surgery?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, so… if we're getting plastic surgery, why do we even need false mustaches?"

"You think I should replace the false mustaches with something else?"

"I'd rather you replaced the plastic surgery with something else," said Hobbes.

"But I already know a guy who can give us a three for one deal!"

"There's six of us."

"I know, but at least then three of us would be taken care."

"Maybe three of us should get plastic surgery, and the other three should use the false mustaches," suggested Andy.

"Dibs on the first mustache," said Sherman flatly.

"My question…," said Nebular, "… is where are we getting whoopee cushions from?"

Socrates cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, well… I did say I was still in the planning stage on this."

While the others were either groaning or muttering incredulities, Galaxoid noticed one of his screens had lit up, and he went over to investigate. What he saw made his one eye widen in surprise.

"If we're all quite finished, fellows," he said urgently, "we just got a message from the ship."

They all looked up in shock.

Hobbes found his voice. "You mean… they know we're here?"

"Someone does. They're hailing us and… inviting us to dock with them."

"Do we know who?"

"No… an anonymous invite. Most mysterious. Normally, you'd see a crewmember's insignia, but this has nothing."

"So…," said Andy, "… do we accept the invite or not?"

"Yeah, we have no idea who it's from," said Sherman. "It might be a trap."

Hobbes waited for an answer for at least three seconds before he realized they were all expecting him to give it. Shouldering on his authority, he began to pace around a bit as his mind raced with all the possibilities. Sherman was right – it could be a trap. But for all they knew, maybe Calvin had gotten free and was letting them in. Or maybe one of the alien crew had seen them without knowing who they were. All very likely scenarios.

"Okay…," he said at last. "We accept the invite… but we proceed with caution. Be ready for anything. Are there any weapons pointed at us?"

"None whatsoever," said Galaxoid.

"Then let's bring 'er in."

"Are you sure about this?" asked Sherman.

"Of course not, but when are any of us ever?"

"Fair point."

Galaxoid and Nebular took to the flight controls. "Docking in progress," they said.

Their ship turned and headed for the Zokian battle cruiser. The cargo bay doors slid open, and they went inside.