Posted: 2003-08-03 01:21pm
By MK Sheppard, Col. Falkenhorst, with Help from Illuminatus Primus for this chapter.
Senator Timothy Jones smiled as he whipped his
Jet-Ski around the pristine beach off the penal
colony of New Zealand.
Ever since the Federation had evicted all the New
Zealanders to Australia in the 2350s, New Zealand's
beaches had become one of the hottest vacation
spots since you didn't have to worry about
offending the natives, since there were none.
Unfortunately, he didn't know that he had been targetted
for liquidation by powerful enemies. Unbeknownst to him,
deep inside his GNOMEicon Jet-Ski, a radio signal was
recieved from a hidden transmitter on the shore, and the
Plasma flow of the Jet-Ski's engine was redirected into a
specially designed buffer where it built up...
Several minutes later, the Jet-Ski blew up with a thunderous
explosion that reverberated all over the beach, and parts of it
were found by Security Personnel up to half a kilometer away
from the explosion site; of the late Senator Jones, nothing
was ever found, as it was found that the plasma explosion had
been directly underneath the Jet-Ski's seat.
[Somewhere in Deep Space]
The modified Klingon Battlecruiser _Kloth's Pride_, the Klingon script
having been crudely crossed out and replaced with "Asskicker" cruised
at half-impulse power, having been converted to a pleasure yacht, albeit
one with enough firepower to cripple most starships.
"Hey boss," mumbled Frankie. "Some shit's gone down on Earth."
Falkenhorst whirled around in his command chair, Sheppard being away
in his quarters, sleeping. The two of them divided command of the battlecruiser
into 12-hour periods, to make sure nothing was missed.
"Yes?"
"This is coming in over the subspace news networks; I thought you'd be interested."
With that, Frankie switched the main viewscreen over to the ship's subspace reciever
array, and the face of the Federation's most famous news anchor, Kelly Antilles,
appeared on the screen.
"Today, in an apparent terrorist bombing, the Federation's most respected legislator,
was killed."
On the viewscreen appeared a picture of the late Timothy Jones.
"Authorities believe that the assassination is linked to Gnomish terrorist groups
upset over his authorship of the Gnome Resettlement Bill of 2367 and the
Gnome Pornography Laws of 2368 that cut off the newly resettled Gnomes from
their primary income, Gnomish Pornography."
"Interesting," muttered Falk. Another player in the great game of interspecies porno.
They would have to be eliminated...eventually.
Turning his attention back to the news, Falkenhorst listened in to the rest of the newscast.
"As well, the Gnome Porn King, who goes by the handle of "Darth Garden Gnome" was
indicted by the Federation Court on 2,451 counts of Gnomish Pornography. He is
unavailable for comment."
"Typical." muttered Falk.
"In other news, tragedy today on Deep Space Nine, where former commander
Captain Sisko, went on a murderous rampage with his Starfleet Issued
phaser, killing well over fifty civilians and numerous security personnel on the rampage
before he was killed by security forces."
Everyone blinked at that, except for Nog, who grinned evilly and uttered
a bone-chilling peal of laughter from his station on the bridge, where
he controlled the _Asskicker_'s weapons.
"Starfleet has already announced a replacement for the late Captain Sisko,
newly-promoted Captain Thomas Paris, son of Admiral Paris, and one of the
famous Voyager crew, who recently returned from the Delta Quadrant just
last year."
The newscast slowly trailed off into irrevelance about the latest stock market
news, until Falkenhorst had them turn the damn thing off.
Sitting back in his chair, he thought about this latest Gnomish terrroist act. The
Gnomes were powerful porno producers, and also produced the most powerful
halluciogenic shrooms in the Federation. And they were going to meet these
stunted little perverts at a secret meeting point they had given them in less than
48 hours.
Falkenhorst's stomach began to churn at the prospect of meeting the most
infamous pervert of them all, the one called Darth Garden Gnome. It was
Darth Garden Gnome who had written, directed, and produced a snuff porno
entirely along the lines of the old rhyme "RayCav's coming for you".
[Deep Space Nine]
Captain Parris stepped off the space liner and onto the promenade of
Deep Space Nine, and tried to ignore the repeated phaser burns all over
the promenade, as well as the still-carbonized remains of dozens of people
still burned into the walls. Apparently the clean-up crew hadn't gotten around
to fixing the mess Sisko had caused when he snapped a few days before..
Behind him, following him closely, was his personal assistant, Ensign Thomas
Stravo, a complete utter loon who actually thought he was Captain James T.
Kirk, and emulated Kirk in every aspect, even right down to the personal
mannerisms and womanizing.
His only saving grace was that he was one of the best men Parris had ever seen
when it came to arranging Porno deals. Too bad he always carried a briefcase full
of Janeway pornography around with him, thinking that people would actually buy it.
Parris tried to stifle an involuntary shudder. He had served for seven years under that
bitch - who the fuck could see her as a sex object?
Ensign Stravo, on the other hand, was already thinking of how to ship his personal
collection of dozens of Holotapes featuring him doing the nasty with Admiral Janeway
to his new duty post.
[END CH 9]
Senator Timothy Jones smiled as he whipped his
Jet-Ski around the pristine beach off the penal
colony of New Zealand.
Ever since the Federation had evicted all the New
Zealanders to Australia in the 2350s, New Zealand's
beaches had become one of the hottest vacation
spots since you didn't have to worry about
offending the natives, since there were none.
Unfortunately, he didn't know that he had been targetted
for liquidation by powerful enemies. Unbeknownst to him,
deep inside his GNOMEicon Jet-Ski, a radio signal was
recieved from a hidden transmitter on the shore, and the
Plasma flow of the Jet-Ski's engine was redirected into a
specially designed buffer where it built up...
Several minutes later, the Jet-Ski blew up with a thunderous
explosion that reverberated all over the beach, and parts of it
were found by Security Personnel up to half a kilometer away
from the explosion site; of the late Senator Jones, nothing
was ever found, as it was found that the plasma explosion had
been directly underneath the Jet-Ski's seat.
[Somewhere in Deep Space]
The modified Klingon Battlecruiser _Kloth's Pride_, the Klingon script
having been crudely crossed out and replaced with "Asskicker" cruised
at half-impulse power, having been converted to a pleasure yacht, albeit
one with enough firepower to cripple most starships.
"Hey boss," mumbled Frankie. "Some shit's gone down on Earth."
Falkenhorst whirled around in his command chair, Sheppard being away
in his quarters, sleeping. The two of them divided command of the battlecruiser
into 12-hour periods, to make sure nothing was missed.
"Yes?"
"This is coming in over the subspace news networks; I thought you'd be interested."
With that, Frankie switched the main viewscreen over to the ship's subspace reciever
array, and the face of the Federation's most famous news anchor, Kelly Antilles,
appeared on the screen.
"Today, in an apparent terrorist bombing, the Federation's most respected legislator,
was killed."
On the viewscreen appeared a picture of the late Timothy Jones.
"Authorities believe that the assassination is linked to Gnomish terrorist groups
upset over his authorship of the Gnome Resettlement Bill of 2367 and the
Gnome Pornography Laws of 2368 that cut off the newly resettled Gnomes from
their primary income, Gnomish Pornography."
"Interesting," muttered Falk. Another player in the great game of interspecies porno.
They would have to be eliminated...eventually.
Turning his attention back to the news, Falkenhorst listened in to the rest of the newscast.
"As well, the Gnome Porn King, who goes by the handle of "Darth Garden Gnome" was
indicted by the Federation Court on 2,451 counts of Gnomish Pornography. He is
unavailable for comment."
"Typical." muttered Falk.
"In other news, tragedy today on Deep Space Nine, where former commander
Captain Sisko, went on a murderous rampage with his Starfleet Issued
phaser, killing well over fifty civilians and numerous security personnel on the rampage
before he was killed by security forces."
Everyone blinked at that, except for Nog, who grinned evilly and uttered
a bone-chilling peal of laughter from his station on the bridge, where
he controlled the _Asskicker_'s weapons.
"Starfleet has already announced a replacement for the late Captain Sisko,
newly-promoted Captain Thomas Paris, son of Admiral Paris, and one of the
famous Voyager crew, who recently returned from the Delta Quadrant just
last year."
The newscast slowly trailed off into irrevelance about the latest stock market
news, until Falkenhorst had them turn the damn thing off.
Sitting back in his chair, he thought about this latest Gnomish terrroist act. The
Gnomes were powerful porno producers, and also produced the most powerful
halluciogenic shrooms in the Federation. And they were going to meet these
stunted little perverts at a secret meeting point they had given them in less than
48 hours.
Falkenhorst's stomach began to churn at the prospect of meeting the most
infamous pervert of them all, the one called Darth Garden Gnome. It was
Darth Garden Gnome who had written, directed, and produced a snuff porno
entirely along the lines of the old rhyme "RayCav's coming for you".
[Deep Space Nine]
Captain Parris stepped off the space liner and onto the promenade of
Deep Space Nine, and tried to ignore the repeated phaser burns all over
the promenade, as well as the still-carbonized remains of dozens of people
still burned into the walls. Apparently the clean-up crew hadn't gotten around
to fixing the mess Sisko had caused when he snapped a few days before..
Behind him, following him closely, was his personal assistant, Ensign Thomas
Stravo, a complete utter loon who actually thought he was Captain James T.
Kirk, and emulated Kirk in every aspect, even right down to the personal
mannerisms and womanizing.
His only saving grace was that he was one of the best men Parris had ever seen
when it came to arranging Porno deals. Too bad he always carried a briefcase full
of Janeway pornography around with him, thinking that people would actually buy it.
Parris tried to stifle an involuntary shudder. He had served for seven years under that
bitch - who the fuck could see her as a sex object?
Ensign Stravo, on the other hand, was already thinking of how to ship his personal
collection of dozens of Holotapes featuring him doing the nasty with Admiral Janeway
to his new duty post.
[END CH 9]