The macrophage Commander sits in his control chair and scans the battle screen. The pathogen TIE fighters are swarming forward. He can’t see the bigger pathogen ships, but he knows they’re coming.

“Mr. Sula, give the order for our macrophage Pac-Man Destroyers to attack.”

“Yes, Captain.” Mr. Sula pushes buttons activating the “All-Attack” command to the fleet.

In the waiting room, the Person is reading an article on his body’s immune system. “Macrophages are specialized white blood cells. They protect your body by fighting foreign invading cells, called pathogens or infectious agents. The macrophages are themselves specialized into control cells and attack cells. The large macrophage attack cells can launch smaller antibody fighters that harass and incapacitate the pathogen invaders.” The person rubs his shoulder. He has a pain there and a headache. He feels hot. Something is going on, which is why he’s at the doctor’s office.

On the screen, the Pac-Man Destroyers engulf the smaller enemy fighters. With the overpowering fire of their turbo lasers and ion cannons and the aid of their antibody X-wing fighters, the big ships disable the Tie fighters and then use their powerful tractor beams to pull them into the main ship for disassembly and analysis.

“Mr. Chekhov, can I have the analysis of the invaders?” the Commander asks.

“Yes, Captain.” Mr. Chekhov adjusts his ear transmitter. “I have it, Sir. Yes, definitely. Interpretation of the Antigen markings on the exteriors of the vessels is complete. The fingerprint is that of the ‘Pneumonia Bacterium.’ Each of the attackers is marked with the Antigen flag ‘PB.’ That’s the personal identifier, Sir. That’s how we can recognize them.”

Now our Person is sitting on a chair in a small examining room and reading from the article in his lap. “A macrophage will disable a pathogen invader by using its size and strength, with the aid of its antibody fighters. After neutralizing the pathogen, the macrophage pulls the foreign particle through its cell wall and into the cell. There, it will be broken up and the distinctive ‘antigen’ marking on the surface of the invader will be catalogued and transmitted to the other macrophage defenders in the body. This allows the body’s defense systems to distinguish a bad cell from a good cell.”

“Uhura, signal the fleet with the ‘PB’ antigen marker information.”

“Yes, Captain.” Uhura talks into her speech transmitter and then listens for a response. “Sir, a squadron of what appear to be our Pac-Man Destroyers is approaching from downstream in the vascular system. Wait. Yes. Sir, our field commander sees the ‘PB’ through the cloaking. Those are not Pac-Men, they’re Imperial Cruisers. We’re being flanked, Captain.”

“I see them on the control screen. Mr. Chekhov, signal the ‘General Alert’ and activate all reserves. We’ll throw everything we have at these bad guys. Mr. Sula, signal the ‘All Hands.’ We’re going in too. I don’t want to miss this fight, but I sure hope our Person is doing something out there to help. There are too many of those Imperial Cruisers. We are badly outnumbered.”

“So, Doc, what’s wrong?” The Person sits up on the examining table, his legs dangling over the side. The doctor has just finished the examination. “You have a fever, a high fever. You’re body is fighting an infection, and it needs some help.” Behind the doctor, the nurse holds up a needle and pushes a little fluid out the tip. “Not a shot, Doc, I don’t like shots.” “Your body will. I’ll give you the shot now and some more antibiotic pills to take at home. Roll your sleeve up.” The Person shuts his eyes, as the needle stings and the antibiotics rush into his bloodstream and toward the battle. “An antibiotic contains antibodies,” the doctor says. “An antibody is like a little star fighter, like the X-Wing fighter that Luke Skywalker flew in Star Wars. It can’t usually knock out a big infection all by itself, but a whole bunch can turn the tide and help the big macrophages in your body do their work.”

“We’re being pushed back, Captain.” Mr. Sula says, slowly studying his smaller screen. “And, we’ve lost most of our antibody fighters. Our shields our weakening.”

“Captain,” Mr. Chekhov interjects. “Should I order the ‘Retreat?’”

“Not yet.” The Captain is thinking. “Have a little faith in our Person, Gentlemen.”

“Captain, I’m getting something?”

“Yes, Uhura.”

“Sir, it’s unbelievable. Thousands of X-Wing antibody fighters have appeared out of nowhere. The enemy TIE fighters are spiraling out of control. The intruder’s Imperial Cruisers are being pounded. They’re listing and turning.”

“Mr. Sula, give our Pac-Man Destroyers the ‘All Forward’ signal. Let’s go gobble up some Star Destroyers.”

“Captain,” Uhura’s voice is excited. “One X-Wing fighter just took out the enemy command ship with a single photon torpedo.” The bridge explodes with cheers.

“Take us in, Mr. Sula. It’s time to pick up the pieces.” He turns to his side. “Mr. Spock, you’ve been unusually quiet through this all.”

“I never doubted the outcome, Captain. I believe our Person is part Vulcan.”

The Captain smiles at his friend. “Mr. Spock, do you think you could scare up a medal for that young pilot with the good aim?”

“Scare, Captain?”

“Never mind, Spock. It’s old English from early Earth. You know, like being afraid of a good shot in the arm.”

“Captain, why would a shot in the arm be good?”

Now the Captain does laugh with the rest of the crew. “Mr. Spock, you need to talk to our Person. He may be more human than you suspect.”

On the battle screen, the Pac-Man Destroyers are finishing with the enemy fleet.

“Paku-Paku,”

Grandpa Jim