The Gloryship of Gerguloid

“Attention, crew! This is your Supreme Commander, Gerguloid, speaking! Welcome aboard The Gloryship—the finest, time-bending spaceplane in all the universes! We prepare for take-off. Let us soar like cosmic warriors! We shall plunder and pillage!”

A hand rose. “Sir, uh, we’re just scientists looking for a rare crystal.”

The commander exhaled, his eye twitching furiously. “Fine.” He waved a hand. “No plundering or pillaging today. But we WILL rise victorious! And no more interruptions!” His veins bulged dangerously.

Gerguloid’s voice boomed as he paraded around the control room, boots striking like lightning, rumbling like thunder, drawing every gaze toward him, as if demanding the universe’s attention.

He flicked his cape, the shimmer nearly causing a solar eclipse, and made a show of adjusting his commander’s hat. His gold medallion—personally commissioned, never earned—gleamed like the first star of evening. The galaxy itself seemed dim in comparison. The perfect outfit for heroism!

“Does he think we’re going to war?” someone whispered.

“This is the flight to Nebulon for the Quantum Crystal Discovery Project, right?”

“Is that a costume he’s wearing?” the intern whispered.

“Don’t even ask,” muttered a seasoned crew member, rolling her eyes.

-

Captain Clive and Dr.Quibble were locked in an intense debate about takeoff and safety as Gerguloid admired his reflection in the voyager windows.

Dr. Quibble, adjusting her thick glasses, said, “The temperature’s off. We need enough velocity for stable intergalactic travel.”

Captain Clive snapped back, “No, no—we must calibrate to exactly 110 light-knots. Speed-to-temperature ratio is everything!”

Gerguloid shot them both a glare. “Enough with the trivia!” he barked, his voice erupting. “I don’t have time for incompetence! The world is watching me. This is my moment, and you’re wasting it! We go NOW, or I’ll do it myself!”

With a dramatic gesture, he slammed the green “GO” button. The spacecraft shot off with a deafening roar, the universe bowing to his impatience.

The ride was anything but smooth. A glitch in the interstellar propulsion system sent them into an unexpected loop-de-loop through space, forcing every passenger’s stomach to do its best impression of a slinky.

Crew members clung to each other, screaming, shouting last words.

“I’m going to puke my space pretzels!” someone yelled.

“Are we going to die?” one passenger cried, gripping the intern for dear life.

“Quibble, do something, you fool!” Gerguloid bellowed.

Clive and Quibble, sweating bullets, wrestled the controls, fighting to steer the spaceplane back on course as it whipped side to side.

The commander grabbed the loudspeaker.

“Crew!” he roared, his voice cutting through the panic. “We almost combusted into the ether, but fear not—I devised Plan B on the spot! We are returning to course. The detour was a tactical test of our spacecraft’s superiority! And we are supreme! Onward—into the future!”

-

The crew reached the coordinates, only to find a large, weathered rock. It sat in the middle of a clearing, its surface rough and unremarkable.

Gerguloid stared at it, awe in his eyes. “This is it!” he exclaimed. “The greatest discovery in the universe! The sacred crystal we’ve been searching for!”

The crew exchanged looks.

“I think it’s just a rock,” Clive mumbled.

But Gerguloid was undeterred. “This is no ordinary rock,” he said, hands sweeping through the air. He trailed off, waiting for the weight of his words to settle. Then, exasperated, “Why am I the only one here with an ounce of sophistication?”

“Well, maybe if we look over there,” Dr. Quibble suggested. “According to our findings, the actual location should be closer to the Fractal Edge.”

The others murmured in agreement and followed, eyes scanning the horizon.

Gerguloid struck a pose. “Ah yes, the Fractal Edge! That’s where it all comes together!” He confidently zigzagged ahead in a vague direction.

As they neared, a scientist pointed. “Look! The Quantum Crystal!”

Seizing the moment, Gerguloid sprinted forward, cape billowing behind him like a comet’s tail.

“See? I knew it!” he declared, hands on hips. “It was here all along.”

He lunged forward and snatched the crystal.

“Careful,” someone said. “It’s fragile.”

But Gerguloid, eyes gleaming, lifted it high. “My unparalleled vision has led us here! I hold the Quasarithium Crystal!”

“It’s actually the Quantum—” Dr. Quibble started. Then sighed. “Oh, never mind.”

Gerguloid was far away, engulfed in the sound of his own voice.

-

As the crew began their journey home, the navigation system malfunctioned, flinging them straight into an asteroid field.

Brimming with misplaced confidence, Commander Gerguloid seized manual control. He swerved, dipped—and hit every asteroid in sight.

Then came the space jellyfish.

Their translucent bodies pulsed in rhythmic waves, drifting aimlessly while tangling the spacecraft’s signals and blocking every path.

The commander strode out of the navigation hub, chest out. “Only the greatest skycraft could attract such a phenomenon. This is a sign! We are destined for greatness!”

He steered them closer, straight into the heart of the swarm. The jellyfish floated by, unaware of the havoc they caused, pushing the craft further off course.

The vessel jolted with each impact, sending the crew into a frenzy.

“Easy!” Clive shouted, adjusting the controls.

“This is exactly what I wanted!” Gerguloid declared. “Leaving our mark on the cosmos!”

Dr. Quibble and Captain Clive worked in quiet urgency, eyes darting to the front, where Gerguloid reveled in the chaos. They didn’t dare interrupt. He was too deep now—enthralled by his own delusion.

They moved in silence. Calculating. Precise. Staying just out of sight.

Gerguloid flailed at the controls, proclaiming every near-catastrophe a stroke of genius. He never noticed the duo, discreetly guiding the spacecraft back to sanity, as the jellyfish storm raged on.

-

The plane landed hard, thudding to the ground with a bang. Cheering spectators—mostly the commander’s loyal PR entourage—greeted them.

The crew, disoriented and exhausted, disembarked, indifferent to the fanfare.

Gerguloid, of course, was just getting started. He stepped forward, arms wide, launching into what he was certain would be his greatest speech yet.

“We arrive triumphant!” he said, hoisting the Quantum Crystal overhead.

The scientists exchanged nervous glances.

“Careful with that,” one muttered.

“Shush. Not a single peep of disapproval,” another whispered.

“Yeah. He’ll throw a tantrum, and we’ll be banned from the plane.”

“Or worse, he’ll blacklist us from the project.”

"The last guy who frowned got reassigned to astroid counting."

They shook their heads.

“At least we can study the mineral—if he doesn’t destroy it first.”

One by one, the crew slipped away.

The audience erupted in applause, oblivious to their retreat. Gerguloid beamed from the platform, basking in his solitary glory.

-

The next day, the Commander read the news aloud to himself: “Gerguloid Brings Home the Quantum Crystal.” Beneath the headline, a photo of him, standing tall, crystal aloft, The Gloryship looming behind him.

He smiled at his reflection. Already a space legend in his own right.

“Maybe a statue in orbit,” he said, his thoughts moving fast. A towering monument of himself, forever drifting through the solar system. An eternal symbol of his legacy.

He twisted his cape, admiring his radiant form in polished glass. Which galaxy would be next to bear witness to his brilliance?

The notion swelled in his chest—grander than the last. His mind raced toward the future:

“Commander Gerguloid Warham: The Hero Who Conquered the Cosmos.”

“Next time,” he whispered, “it will be even greater.”

The mirror, ever loyal, reflected his words back at him, as if the universe had no choice but to agree.