Captain Edward Genmike of the Former Applause hadn’t been having a particularly good tour. He sighed to himself. It didn’t look like today would be to be a particularly good day either. The subtle emergency broadcast that had woken him from his slumber had now been joined by several others, all blaring like a discordant choir in his skull. The MI was throwing a fit, bots all around the ship weren’t responding, and interestingly, the ship’s regular alerts weren’t blaring his eardrums bloody.

Genmike wasn’t an idiot. He knew what this was. He’d been in the game for a long time; too long, according to the latest upstart crewmembers he supposed. Who will it be this time…? he idly mused as he blinked away the last dregs of sleep. Probably that pompous science officer, Dr. Lindholm. Throwing off the blanket, he stood up and made for the captains safe. Well, we were long overdue for one anyways, he thought grimly as he as he slid aside a stupendously gaudy painting of his venerable CEO and subsequently opened the hidden bulkhead panel hidden behind with his personal key.

Hand groping around in the dark, Genmike plundered the recesses of his hidden strongbox and retrieved his oldest and most trusted companion: his vintage Teargun, model x-8 with an illegal and warranty-voiding limiter circuit bypass mod. The old thing was quite beat, lovingly cared for, and a dim green glow from the six firing charge indicators indicated the nuclear decay power circuit was not only still happily irradiating his safe, but also that the gun was ready for action.

He placed the small Teargun on his upper thigh and let his uniform’s skinsuit nanos quickly absorb and conceal it beneath faux folds of fabric. Best not let his opposition know the game was up just yet, he reasoned. Now, where to go… Genmike had a small dilemma ahead of him. There were two places that he—or anyone with the prerequisite skills—could hold the ship from. The bridge or main engineering. He wasn’t quite sure who the traitor was, but if his guess about it being Dr. Lindholm was right, the man’s psych profile painted him as a pompous and self-righteous, “take the bridge at any cost!” type of man. Engineering it is then, sorry 3rd watch. Those poor bastards are probably asleep at their consoles anyways.

Gingerly, the old captain checked the hallway’s cameras before leaving his room. Still, for anyone who might be watching—you never know how deep they go—he put on a lazy and tired affectation. Something along the lines of “the captain’s fetching a late-night-snack” ought to do, he thought as he gently strolled down the hall to the officer’s mess. Unsurprisingly, at this hour, it was almost deserted. Two junior officers were arguing in hushed tones in one corner, and Genmike almost drew his gun before it became clear that they weren’t paying any attention to their surroundings. A lover’s quarrel now? How unfortunate. The other occupant of the small mess was his chief engineer. What a pleasant surprise. Tiredly, he kept up the act and got himself a coffee from the dispenser before sliding down in the chair opposite from Chief Engineer Pike.

“Morning officer Pike” Genmike lazily intoned. Pike, who’d had the far-off expression of being lost in some digital feed snapped his eyes back to the real world, and with a somewhat surprised tone, he responded, “Good morning captain, making the rounds early I see?” In response, Genmike only let loose a short snort before saying, “Nope, I’ve got a feeling it’s time for some spring cleaning today.” Of course, there are no seasons in space, and furthermore, Captain Genmike wasn’t a lax taskmaster when it came to cleaning. The Former Applause was kept spotless. No, this was code. Pike was one of his subordinates that he trusted—at least more than Lindholm—and Pike wasn’t a fool as he’d been in the game for almost as long as Genmike himself. The only sign that he knew the stakes had suddenly been raised was that his eyes began quickly flicking across the room, scanning for immediate threats. Then Pike asked, “Any particular dusty corner you had in mind Captain?” all nonchalantly. As if this is routine, which well, it basically is Genmike thought with a hint of bitterness.

After pretending to think for a beat, the captain smoothly responded, “I think we’d best start with main engineering, that’s your domain anyways.”

Officer Pike nodded, they put away their half-full mugs, and left the officer’s mess, all while chatting innate nonsense about schedules, maintenance, and the standard helping of captain’s-ears-appropriate shipboard gossip. Lindholm’s probably watching us right now, debating whether he’s already been made. No ship-wide alarms blared, or hasty footsteps were audible yet though. We’ve still got time.

Sadly, the duo’s luck couldn’t last forever. As they approached the main reinforced door that led to main engineering, they were greeted by a confused technician and a solidly shut hatchway. Really, it’s a shame how bad an actor he is, Genmike thought as they stopped a couple paces away from the door. The game hasn’t been called yet…

“What’s the meaning of this, Cadet?” Genmike intoned in a most laconic and captainly manner. The poor, blue-uniformed cadet was already sweating profusely. What an amateur, Genmike thought. “Um, c-captain sir, the d-door’s under maintenance” the sweltering youth stuttered. Enough of this. “Open the door cadet, that’s an order” the old captain spoke, in a low, deadly and very non-genial tone.

Suddenly, alarm lamps flashed, the MI hiccupped and then hung, and alerts started through the entire ship. The game is up. After a moment of silence, the captain tried again, “Cadet?”. Still sweating, the blue-uniformed man didn’t budge. He’d gotten courage from the alarms now blaring. Doubtlessly, his fellow mutineers were on their way. He had the support of the ship. He was doing the right thing and proud of it. He looked at his unarmed captain, then he spoke, still nervous, but no longer stuttering, “I’m sorry captain, I can’t open this door. You see me and my—” and his words were cut off with a wheeze from his throat as he folded together, dead on the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. His head was completely disassembled into a cloud of dust and slowly drifting into the nearest vent.

The seemingly senile captain had heard this type of speech many times before and drawn and shot with lightning speed. The pointless pontifications of mutineers were something he didn’t want to waste his valuable time with anymore—he was old enough already. He looked at the indicator on his Teargun. Now, only five shots were ready. Pike murmured, “That’s one scary gun captain”. Then, he moved towards a maintenance panel and began to root around in it.

Genmike, with a rough estimate of the mutineer’s schedule in his head, knew they needed to be quick though, and said “Stand aside Pike, let me handle this”, as he leveled his Teargun at the door. Once he was satisfied with his aim and the range, he set the mode to wide dispersal and gently pressed the trigger. A quiet buzz briefly emanated from the Teargun, the air took on a distinct ozone-smell, and the charge indicator dropped to four. For a beat, nothing happened. Then, the molecules that bound together to form the stubborn door realized that they weren’t required to hold on to each other anymore. A large patch of the door fell apart in a cascade of metallic dust.

Genmike in the lead, the duo stepped over the corpse and stormed inside. The scene that greeted them was quite predictable and matched up to Genmike’s memories of previous mutinies. Two technicians were obviously dead, lying in a thick, red-gray pool of blood in a corner. Their murder, rifle slung across his back, was rooting away at the wiring behind a terminal. Upon hearing Genmike and Pike, he snapped around and tried to reach for his rifle before a buzz from the Teargun caused a large portion of his chest to quit existing as a coherent assembly of cells. The man slumped over, surprised expression on his face, and half inside the console that he’d torn apart. Genmike had been fast enough. Mentally triggering the local emergency lockdown command, the hidden blowout bulkheads slammed into place, sealing off main engineering. The little mutiny was effectively over. Now all that was left was cleanup.

Genmike sighed and muttered under his breath, “Spring cleaning is always a bitch.”