iv

Mission: Pandora

"If they were trying to fill us with confidence," said Aspirin, "they could have picked a less foreboding name."
The three gazed deeply at the permanent. Behind them, the others unloaded equipment, outmoded weaponry, and Flash's futon. An occasional dust storm blew across their secret landing platform.
"Odd, this transmission is about five months old," Tank said. Her delicate fingers brushed the floating words, which squirmed digitally in response. "They must have sent it just before our Introspective Retreat."
Marshall frowned. "Is it still valid?"
"Assigned specifically to our fleet number." Aspirin pointed to the blinking digits in the corner. "It's been waiting."
X-Ray appeared, panting. "Well? What does it say?" He smelled of bleach. Nobody asked questions.
"Good question." Marshall squinted, running his finger across the scroll bar from time to time. Tiny words scuttled across air. His eyes narrowed, then widened, then shot heavenward. So did his hands.
"Oh, good Lord!"

Around the secret headquarters dinner table, everyone but Chef sat for the nightly meeting.
Marshall banged his fists like gavels. "Order! Order!"
"Nobody's talking," Glen said.
Marshall narrowed his eyes until they looked beady and serious."The Raven has struck once again, crew. Tomorrow we embark on a mission to Galaxy #443K02-Subdivision P3, Andrino Sector."
Groans wafted around the table, ripples in a pond of groans.
"We just got back," Flash whined.
"Andrino Sector smells like rats," X-Ray pointed out.
"Not the good smelling kind," Crash clarified.
"I still have scars from where the mer-people attacked me last time we were on P3," said Tank, contorting grotesquely to identify just where they were. "Right -"
Bang bang bang! went Marshall's fists.
There was silence.
"Team! We are the most elite team on Qandar for a reason," Marshall growled dramatically. "Even though none of us know what that is. Now, we have twenty-four hours to prepare. I expect you all to cooperate in our mission to disseminate goodwill and bring justice to the galaxy!"
Team members wiped tears from their eyes, coughed, cleared throats of phlegm, and made faces. Someone tittered.
Marshall was appropriately satisfied. He consulted the agenda that Aurora had laid in front of him. "Meeting dismissed. We have an hour of free time to relax. Jessica, tell Charles to prepare a going away dinner."
"Yes sir."
Aspirin did not mention that Chef was preparing a welcome home dinner.