Plutonian Peacock

 

The Plutonian Peacock

Jonno Virek had long ago accepted that the universe enjoyed making him look ridiculous. As he finished patching a leaking coolant line aboard the Peregrine Queen, he braced himself for the next interruption. Sure enough, the comms panel gave a petulant chirp.

He wiped his hands on a rag and tapped the console. “Virek here. What fresh cosmic nonsense do we have today?”

Mara Linskey’s face appeared, framed by her practical braid and that wry look that could melt hull plating. “Love, you’re going to want to hear this,” she began.

Jonno sighed. Ever since they’d teamed up — partners in work, partners in life — his definition of ‘normal’ had expanded to a dangerous degree. “All right, hit me.”

“It’s a peacock,” she said, almost managing to keep a straight face.

He stared. “A what?”

“A genetically modified Plutonian Peacock,” Mara repeated. “It escaped in Port Triton’s agricultural dome. Bioengineered for helium buoyancy and iridescent feather patterns, and… well… its mating call can shatter titanium.”

Jonno closed his eyes. “Of course it can.”

She held up a datapad. “They were moving it for a display event. Prize money, breeders, all sorts of nonsense. Then someone left a cage hatch open.”

Jonno tried, heroically, not to laugh. “A helium-buoyant techno-peacock? I’ve seen wilder. We taking the contract?”

Mara arched a brow. “I already did. There are two hundred guests on the station, and the peacock is scaring the children senseless.”

“Brilliant.” He flexed his sore hands. “Grab your kit. Let’s catch ourselves a love-struck neon rooster.”

Port Triton shimmered like a distant star in the dark, its agricultural dome lit by delicate blue panels. As the Peregrine Queen docked, Jonno felt the familiar drop in his stomach when the artificial gravity kicked in.

They stepped off the ramp together, shoulder to shoulder. It was easy now, working as a team. They barely needed to speak.

Station security met them with anxious expressions. “Captain Virek, Captain Linskey — thank you. The creature is in the garden complex. It’s… loud.”

Jonno nodded, scanning the posted images. The peacock was a marvel of genetic artistry, all neon ripples and radiant tail feathers, engineered to float gently in low-gravity. But its mating cry — tuned to a frequency that rattled even titanium welds — was already showing its destructive side.

They passed through the decontamination field and into the huge greenhouse, where fruit trees and vegetables grew in perfect artificial sunlight. The air was warm and damp, carrying faint notes of compost, and a metallic tang that hinted at damaged life-support ducts.

Jonno paused. “You hear that?”

The peacock let out a warbling call that made his teeth vibrate.

“Over there,” Mara said, pointing to a tangle of tomato vines.

They advanced slowly. The creature floated above the plants, its enormous tail spread like a living stained-glass window, pulsing with a rainbow glow. Its eyes were bright with determination, scanning for a mate.

“It’s looking at us,” Mara whispered.

Jonno resisted the urge to sigh. “Don’t encourage it.”

He raised the tranquilliser launcher while Mara stood by with an acoustic dampener to soften the peacock’s next scream.

Before he could fire, the bird let out another deafening shriek, shaking the support beams. The hydroponics manager was going to be sending angry invoices for weeks.

Jonno waited for the echo to die, then squeezed the trigger. The dart flew straight and true, lodging in the creature’s chest.

For a heartbeat, the peacock looked offended, then swooned in mid-air, flapping lazily before settling into a bed of cabbages.

Mara lowered her dampener. “You’re still a good shot.”

Jonno shrugged. “I was motivated. Didn’t want our new cabin windows cracked by a lovesick chicken.”

She laughed, letting the tension go. “Think it’s safe to breathe normally?”

He grinned, still watching the neon nightmare drool faintly into the lettuce. “For now.”

Station workers hurried forward with a reinforced carrier cage, triple-sealed to hold the peacock until it could be returned to its handler.

Jonno turned back to Mara. “What did the reward say? Enough to patch up our stabiliser coils?”

“Easily,” she confirmed. “And a bit left over for a treat.”

He arched a brow. “Chocolate?”

“Tea,” she teased, a private smile for him alone.

Jonno mock-groaned. “We’re becoming predictable.”

She slipped her arm through his. “Predictable beats dead, love.”

Together, they left the garden behind, stepping back into the steel and glass corridors of the station.

 

 

Later, back aboard the Peregrine Queen, Jonno finished logging the bounty payment while Mara prepared a simple meal. The ship felt quiet again, in the best possible way — no screaming bird, no terrified hydroponics engineers, no panic on the comms.

Jonno took a moment to study Mara. The strong lines of her shoulders, the steel in her eyes softened just a touch since they’d decided to stick together for good. He was lucky, and he knew it.

She caught him staring. “What?”

“Just thinking how glad I am you said yes,” he replied.

Her smile warmed him right through. “No regrets, Jonno.”

He leaned back, letting the hum of the Queen settle him. “You know,” he mused, “we could take a holiday after this. Somewhere without genetically modified poultry.”

“Holiday?” Mara raised an eyebrow. “Is that even allowed in your cosmic fixer schedule?”

“I’m sure the galaxy can manage a week without us,” he said, only half joking.

She chuckled. “Maybe. But let’s finish this run first.”

Outside, Port Triton shrank behind them, another strange contract ticked off their list. The stars ahead felt as open as they ever had, beckoning Jonno and Mara on towards whatever else the Belt might throw at them.

He couldn’t wait.