Santa is a role, not a person. While I wanted to keep the North Pole and go my merry way, I realized that I couldn't properly reform the Island of Misfit Toys while continuing my duties as a Vanquisher. I couldn't be their Santa Claus.

  However, I wasn't sure if I really was a Vanquisher anymore. We had succeeded in saving @bitchfrog, but that didn't mean @horus wouldn't make sure we were properly reprimanded. We needed to be ready to go on the run if it came to that. Who better to run with than an island of misfits?

  So I saw two options in my future. Option 1: Continue as a Vanquisher in the Alliance Starmada and bestow Santa duties on someone I could trust to bring order to the Island of Misfit Toys and put an end to their human enslavement. Option 2: Be the Santa Claus they need and run from the Alliance Starmada for the foreseeable eternity.

  Option 2 sounds so much more entertaining, doesn't it?

  But my clones and backups were all with the Alliance Starmada. They would animate one of my clones, who would not have a very pleasant life after what I had done, especially if I fled, and they would likely hunt me down forever. When I thought of it that way, unless the Alliance Starmada was going to seriously threaten us, I didn't have a choice. Option 1 was the way forward if I wanted to protect my immortality and clear my name with the Alliance Starmada.

  Having two medics was great! While I helped form a new Elves on the Shelf council to rewrite the rules and guidelines, @biclops and @bitchfrog returned to The Pharaoh to make sure @bitchfrog was okay, rested, and physically and mentally healthy.

  I still hadn't found @auroraloon. I figured she would turn up when she was ready. There were very few ships on 995658 Flummox. If @auroraloon tried to take one, we would know about it, and we made sure we could track them.

  The elves raved about Santa's Sleigh, which must have been a proper ship, but it had disappeared along with their former Santa. They had five other simple ships that were serviceable. Beyond that, it was just short-range atmospheric sleds like the one @missiletoe was riding when we landed. @astrowave made sure The Pharaoh was secure, and we immediately put guards on the others, both to watch for @auroraloon and in case of any rebellious elf activity.

  That left us to establish the foundations of the new settlement and help clean up the dead bodies. I didn't want to make all the decisions. For the new society to work, they had to establish rules. My only stipulation was no human or aiways trafficking. That was the first new rule on the Naughty List.

  They still had to determine what remaining dissidents might be in their ranks and what to do with those who needed to be reanimated. When you reanimated an elf, how would you determine if they were for or against the new settlement, and what would you do with those who were against it?

  Again, I leaned in here. I instructed them not to keep any dissidents on the asteroid. Don't make them work in Santa's Workshop. Don't keep them here imprisoned. Don't give them any reason to try to rebel. After seeing what they did to Frosty the Supervisor with the lumps of coal, I was confident they would come up with a creative solution. And frankly, I didn't want to know what that was.

  We needed to be on our way, off to Dactyl to try to rescue @foxcutter and stop the virus, but I couldn't just nominate a Santa and leave. My stupid brain considered destroying the asteroid completely, taking the North Pole, and being done with it. Terminate everyone. Take the sword. It was like an evil whisper in the back of my mind. It was tempting. It would solve the situation quickly.

  Instead, once I knew @bitchfrog was okay, I ordered her and @biclops to tend to the wounded elves from our rebellion, with assistance from Rufus and Doofus. @bitchfrog would say that they ordered me, but it doesn't matter who said what. @bitchfrog was stubborn and determined. Performing her medical duties helped ease her mind. Besides, ultimately, in our logs, it says I gave the order, and that's what matters.

  Once immediate plans for the Island of Misfit Toys were underway - the Elves on the Shelf election, cleaning and redecorating, and the provision of urgent medical care - I could step away to contact @horus.

  I had procrastinated long enough.

  It wasn't a fun conversation.

  horus: "You DISOBEYED a direct order."

  kittyboy: "Did I?"

  horus: "YES!"

  kittyboy: "But you knew I would, so does that really mean I disobeyed?"

  horus: "Yes, it DOES!"

  kittyboy: "You know, she gave me the sword, the Lady with the Gravemind Syndicate. This seems like it was all planned out."

  horus: "Are you implying that WE had something to do with this? The Alliance Starmada and the Gravemind Syndicate? That could be considered treason."

  I felt like he was being a little unreasonable. I had recovered a member of the Alliance Starmada ranks. I should be commended. Was I implying that the Alliance Starmada was corrupt? Yes. Because they were. @horus and I already knew that because of the contract with the Gravemind Syndicate, so accusing me of treason was a stretch.

  And yes, I might have messed up their contract with the Gravemind Syndicate, but that's just contracts. I wanted to mess it up. I doubted the evil coconspirators in the Alliance Starmada would be too upset. They would negotiate something to compensate if they genuinely cared about a little scuffle on 995658 Flummox.

  I used this as an opportunity to get a feel for @horus's role in all of this.

  kittyboy: "Okay, whatever. I disobeyed, but with a successful outcome, and now we are more prepared to perform our primary mission. Isn't this why you chose me as a Vanquisher? Go Vanquish? Bend the rules to get things done?"

  @horus stroked his mustache with his left hand while he shook his head, probably regretting promoting me to Vanquisher, but I wanted to say those things to him. It would get them on the official record if I had to stand trial for disobedience; it would force a Starmada Court to look at @horus's behavior as well as mine. Judging by his face, he didn't like that. I pressed on.

  kittyboy: "What do we do about the Gravemind Syndicate? What's next for me and my crew?"

  horus: "Do nothing about the Gravemind Syndicate. You must go to Dactyl at once."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Progress. If we were going to Dactyl, then we weren't going to be punished immediately. We didn't have to go on the run.

  Boo, my stupid mind thought. Part of me was pulled into temptation again. Stupid Vanquisher job to ensure stupid immortality, I cursed. It would be so fun to go on the run, commanding the Army of Misfits! Just go for it. #YOLF! You Only Live Forever!

  kittyboy: "What about our punishment?"

  horus: "You WILL be punished, but worry about that later. Dactyl first. Then we'll see."

  kittyboy: "Why? What's going on?"

  He checked his screens. I realized I recognized his background. He was still on his new ship, the Talon. I wondered what was happening with the peace treaty. His answer surprised me.

  horus: "@kittyboy, you and your crew have disobeyed a direct order. The only thing sparing you from a harsher punishment is my good graces, my observations and recommendations regarding your actions. The fact that you have only deviated from the mission for 11 hours and 5 minutes works in your favor. You are lucky. More than 12 hours off mission would have escalated your punishment. That you saved an Alliance Starmada crew member is noted, but you will still face reprimands. All of you. Do you understand?"

  Yeesh. Fine. I owe you, @horus. I really wish he had told us about the 12-hour thing, but good on us.

  kittyboy: "Understood. Thank you."

  horus: "I'm sending you new mission instructions. Remember, use discretion. Nothing can disrupt the peace talks. Just know, however, that you've already gone rogue. If you are caught, you are disposable."

  Asshole. I wondered if he wanted me to pursue @bitchfrog this entire time, if he ordered me not to just for this very reason, so that I would be a rogue agent, someone the Alliance Starmada could sacrifice. Did I really need to wonder?

  kittyboy: "So that's why it's us."

  He studied my face, and I tried to get a read on him as well. He was irritably both my advocate and my biggest pain in the ass. I shouldn't trust him, though.

  Trust no one.

  horus: "You're the right crew for the job."

  He made the universal Yew sign at me, and then pressed his hands together more to turn it into the Dew symbol, signifying farewell. That was unusual for him, more formal and more significant. It gave me jitters.

  horus: "Follow your orders. Encrypted message should be incoming."

  And then he was gone. It was mostly good news, though. I was eager to share with the crew to put their minds at ease. Then the message popped up.

  Update: Mission 5.519.752

  We lost contact with @awesomedog, the Infiltrator we sent to rendezvous with you 8 hours and 14 minutes ago. When you did not arrive, we ordered him to Dactyl to investigate. He has missed two scheduled check-ins. At the 72-hour mark, we will reanimate him if we fail to receive confirmation of his whereabouts.

  Proceed to Dactyl. Find out what they are planning with the virus. Destroy whatever trace of the virus you find, if any. Locate the ship, Repulser.

  (Optional) Rescue @foxcutter if he is there.

  I forwarded the message to my crew, along with an animated celebration GIF. I wanted to discuss the reprimand with them in person, but they would want to know right away that we were clear to proceed with our mission.

  I had one last task before we left. I needed to nominate a new Santa Claus.

  My medics had finished their work, so I asked @bitchfrog and @biclops to join me in Santa's Workshop before we returned to The Pharaoh. I gathered the newly elected Elves on the Shelf together back up on the balcony where the fighting had started.

  They had restored its Christmas cheer with surprising haste. You'd never know people died here. The shelves held gingerbread houses, little Christmas scenes with miniature trees and cottages, a snowglobe. Wreaths hung on the walls. Lights lined the railing of the balcony and the stairs. They even hung stockings off the railing, one for each of the newly elected council members. It was a cozy space now. Best yet, they had milk and cookies, hot cocoa, eggnog, and coffee.

  Better get right to the point.

  "I've gathered you here to say goodbye," I said. "Permanently."

  It was touching that they were unhappy about it.

  "But you just got here."

  "You can't leave."

  "We need you, Santa."

  I raised my hands to silence them, and then continued. "I am honored to be your Santa. I will treasure it always. And I hope that when I return someday, which I will, that you will remember me. I am @kittyboy, your Santa Claws." I spelled it out for them so they understood the cat claw reference.

  "But I have other gifts to bring to the children of our solar system," I said. "And you are the ones to bring in a new era for the Island of Misfit Toys. This place can be whatever you imagine it to be. My only ask is that it be a place of peace, a wonderland of joy."

  They applauded. I took the opportunity to dip a peppermint candy cane cookie in my glass of warm milk and take a bite. Yuuuuummmm.

  "And so I will now choose someone to be your new Santa, to carry this wonderland forward."

  I watched the excitement build. I had no idea who their Santa had been, but I knew this would be a great honor for whoever I selected. They smiled and looked at each other, wondering what would happen. If I want to be Santa, do I say something? Would it be appropriate?

  I had thought about having them nominate someone. Having them choose would be wise. But these elves had history together. They were biased. I needed to be the one to pick. It would mean more, as well, if it came from me.

  My mind first went to @rudoph. He had stood behind us. Whether by fear or otherwise, he oversaw my election, and he stuck with us when the fighting started. He would be a capable leader. But would they revert to their old ways? I could see him eying me, wondering perhaps the same thoughts. They had reelected him President of the Elves on the Shelf. He would be a natural and expected choice.

  Then my mind went to the least expected choice, @missiletoe, who had greeted us when we first landed. He too supported us, along with those who chanted the reindeer names to rally and turn the fight to my favor. @missiletoe was enthusiastic and seemed among the most loyal. They had even honored him with a spot on the Elves on the Shelf.

  I had a good mind of what to do.

  I drew out my sword, holding the North Pole up solemnly. It shimmered, casting its rosy luminescence through the room. It had served me well.

  Then a tap came on my shoulder. I slowly turned to acknowledge it, not wanting to disrupt the formality of my made-up ceremony.

  "Captain," @biclops whispered in my ear. "This is where I need to be."

  She was nervous. I could tell. I wanted her to feel like The Pharaoh and our crew could be a new adventure for her, a new family for her perhaps, but at least a group of friends in this big empty solar system. I felt that it was unfair of @stephascope and @ameliar8 to have created her. I knew @biclops was struggling with it.

  "If I'm going to figure out who I am," @biclops said, "then I need to follow my instincts. Caring for the elves here felt good. It felt right. I would like to stay." She looked at the sword and suddenly shivered. "I don't want to be Santa. I just. I just want to stay."

  I could respect that. I have always prided myself on my futurecasting instincts. Who would I be if I didn't value it in others?

  Most importantly, I knew it was rare to find yourself in a place where you feel you belong. I knew that better than most. All the years as a Wavepilot, I was really lost. It wasn't until The Pharaoh that I felt found. I wanted that for @biclops. I wanted that for everyone.

  "You are your own person, @biclops," I said gently. "Even if I wanted you to stay with us, which I do, I wouldn't be able to command you to stay. And I would never do that anyway. In fact, knowing this is where you want to be, I would command you to remain here."

  She smiled, a bright flash, and stepped back away. She was happy with her decision, the reality setting in, determination and glee on her face. And Christmas glitter. Someone had put glitter on her face.

  I surveyed the room, trying to meet each face with a kind and reassuring look, as I walked to the end of the balcony opposite the railing.

  "I, Santa Claws, bestow the North Pole," I pronounced slowly. They sat to attention, all elf ears trained on my next words. "To @biclops, who has already shown you such care in attending to your wounded, those with us, but also those against us."

  @biclops looked frazzled now, but it was kind of her fault. She did ask to stay right when I was about to designate the new Santa. Besides, she was the right choice.

  I summoned her forward. She walked hesitantly toward me.

  The elves never ceased to amaze. They were not disappointed that one of their own had not been selected. All of them had seen the kindness that @biclops had displayed. She would be their new era.

  Cheers and applause rose as she walked forward, gaining confidence with each step, standing taller by the time she reached me.

  In proper spirit, a Christmas song broke out. "Joy to the World. The Lord has come." I thought that was a bit much, but this was their settlement after all, and their world to build.

  "Just don't be evil," I said to @biclops, with a wink. Then I handed @biclops the North Pole.