Get your fill of sci-fi, science, and mockery of stupid people
* FAQ    * Search   * Register   * Login 
Want to support this site? Click

Quote of the Week: "A great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within." - Will Durant, American historian (1885-1981)


All times are UTC - 5 hours [ DST ]




Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 13 posts ] 
Author Message
 Post subject: 3rd Ground Kings PostPosted: 2002-09-03 04:04am
Offline
Sith Marauder
User avatar

Joined: 2002-09-03 03:23am
Posts: 4453
Location: Wellington, New Zealand
Prelude

Well this is how the whole mess got started. At first the Council was happy with the response they were getting to one of their recent offers. But you know how these things go; a friend tells his friends and then they tell their friends and so on. Soon everyone wants a piece of the action. What would start as a simple business transaction would turn into complete anarchy. Either some serious groundwork would have to be laid out, or they were just going to put everything into the melting pot and hope the situation sorted itself out. But the ‘powers that be’ couldn’t honestly be that inept, could they?

“All Ambassadorial personal, please report to area twelve for registration.”
“Zee hujuvee, nanak zoi kurston.”
“Ti’chun sonosti’karoon minosfitari, lycos ssi zrysto mniji.”
“Zututrutmutzut terutzutkutvut le mutgutnutrut re vlut schmutqut yut Wales.”
The voices boomed over the loud speaker of the lobby. For those wearing universal translators, ‘All Ambassadorial personal, please report to area twelve for registration’ repeating over and over again was getting kind of annoying. Most of the creatures remember seeing the translators advertised across the various technological mediums available to their species showing perfect translations and perfect lip sync. The reality unfortunately was that spending time in an alien orbital facility was like living in a Chinese action movie.

“Name?” The alien behind the counter asked in a tired voice.
“David Chells.” The human gleefully responded. The alien sighed. This wasn’t the first biped to provide an unsatisfactory answer and probably wouldn’t be the last.
“The name of the empire you represent?” It asked, clearly irritated.
“Empire?”
“Empire, group, confederacy, militia, state, nation, republic, PICK ONE.” The alien slammed two of its tentacles down on the desk in frustration. It wondered if all the species it was going to encounter today would be as inept as this one.
“Do you treat all the diplomats this rudely?” The human asked, folding his arms in an unconscious display of defensive body language.
“Listen whatever you are,” the alien started to explain, “I’ve had to deal with over two hundred ambassadors since this morning and that’s nothing compared to the daily throughput we had last week. If you expect me to be nice to every single ambassador from some piss-head hick galaxy at the rear end of some backward super cluster at the end of whatever known universe your pathetic species happens to hail from then the least you can do is answer the GOD DAMN QUESTION!” Unless there was an error in the translation, this alien was sounding quite hostile.

Chells was taken aback, but his diplomatic experience taught him that sometimes it was best just to go take whatever action was necessary to avoid conflict rather then get dragged into an argument. In this case, answering the question would be appropriate. Chells smiled the way a skilled diplomat would, given the circumstances. The alien just glared back, awaiting the answer.
“I represent the United Federation of Planets, the protectors of peace and harmony for all living beings. It’s a Utopian society.”
“Thank you. Here’s your card, go wait in line for an access terminal and fill in the online form. Next!”
“But...”
“NEXT!”

Chells walked away with the card handed too him by the less then courteous alien and joined the queue leading to the access terminals. Some cultures had a strange way of dealing with foreign dignitaries, he thought to himself. This was Chells’ first extragalactic assignment. In a way he was proud of the fact that history would remember him as one of the first people with the responsibility of representing his government in their first intergalactic peace mission. At least that’s what he thought he was there for. It seemed a little unusual to have to fill out orientation forms and personal liability papers. What was even more concerning was that the rest of the diplomatic staff was currently preoccupied with ‘other duties’. It was almost as if Chells was on a need to know basis. There was definitely something strange going on.

Oh great, another one. The alien thought to itself as another human approached the counter.
“Galactic Empire.” He announced.
“Which galaxy?” The alien responded in a surly tone of voice.
“Umm...”
“Oh just take your damn card!” The alien shouted while shoving the small metallic card through the slot.
“Thank you.” The man collected his card and joined the next queue.

A woman, human in appearance, was standing on the balcony overlooking the lobby. Creatures of every description were waiting in line. Another creature, a humanoid wearing some strange environment suit, approached her. A series of seemingly random noises emanated from a speaker on the suit’s collar.
“I don’t know.” the woman responded, “I was hoping the council was just going to let us take over the operation. But now that the Miner’s Guild has gone out of business it looks like they’re just going to let these losers fight over it all.”
The creature responded with a series of low pitch tones, meaningless to anyone that didn’t know what to listen for.
“I’m sure they have their reasons. But that doesn’t make it right.”
The creature replied, again with incomprehensible tones and clicks.
“More good news I assume?” The woman sarcastically asked.
Again the creature responded in its incomprehensible language.
“What? They can’t! How the hell do they expect us to deliver nebula gas without our collectors? Who did they sell them to?”
The alien responded with more gibberish.
“Well that’s just great!” She shouted. “So what are we going to do now?”
There’s only so many ways to describe the unintelligible noises that that the speaker on the creature’s collar makes, needless to say it made more of them in response to the woman’s question.
“No, that’ll never work.” The woman paused for a moment. “But I have a better idea. Come with me, we’ve got work to do.”

Part 1

It was interesting to note that out of the thousands of governments that have signed up to the Council’s scheme, two hundred and thirty three of which were run by humans and two hundred and thirty two of these factions claimed to have originated from Earth. To make matters worse, almost all of the Human governments claimed to be from the Milky Way. This made for some seriously infuriating bookwork. The only theory that anyone had regarding the origin off all these humans, or at least most of them, were that they were from multiple realities generated by historical interference. It was almost as if some divine force was purposefully disrupting continuity for the entire human race.

The worker scrubbed the bulkhead like he had a purpose. The corridor was quite badly lit and this particular section of the ship didn’t see a lot of people pass through it. Yet strangely enough it still seemed to attract a lot of grime. The Worker was actually quite pleased with himself as he’d nearly much finished and, for once, was well ahead of schedule. He prided himself on his work ethic and decided that he’d reward himself with extra break time for his hard work.

After cleaning off the last stubborn greasy build up he put down the vibrosponge (a name given to an electronic grease remover) stood up and carefully examined his surroundings. Content that no one was within earshot he proudly announced, “I think it’s time I made a Captain’s ‘log’ entry.” He quietly laughed at his joke before wandering off to find the nearest head. Extra break time and having what he deemed to be a good humour day put him in a good mood.

Other people on the ship were less preoccupied with actually following orders. This was due to the fact that the vessel wasn’t military, but was a ship privately owned and run by ExaCom, a company based in the Sol system (Sol system number 87 on Council records). It was essentially a mobile office, travelling from site to site, overseeing company operations, delivering supplies, and acting as a place where middle management can process the information coming through without the risk of rival corporations intercepting subspace data streams.

In their reality, the UN had given up trying to sort out differences between all the warring nations and decided to put Humanity’s intergalactic business interests in the hands of private contractors. They decided that multinational corporations were about the closest thing they were going to get to any form of unity.

“So, I hear Cuba has its own planet now.” The men were sitting at a table in the ship’s cafeteria. While the ship was in transit there were only two jobs outside of bridge work that needed doing; occasionally glancing at a monitor to make sure no alerts were going off and scrubbing off the grease in the maintenance passages. The later wasn’t really necessary, but it kept the guys at the table from having to listen to the inane jokes that the previously mentioned worker was infamous for.
“Yeah, second planet in the Aegis system, they just finished terraforming it.” One of the men responded.
“I thought that one was habitable to begin with.”
“Well yeah it was, but you know what a misfired salvo of five hundred gigaton nukes does to a planet.” He said before finishing his drink.
“Damn, did those guys actually look at what they were shooting at during the war or do they just push the button and hope they didn’t hit something friendly?” One of them asked rhetorically.
“Well look on the bright side. Those five or six alien races that were wiped out in the cross fire wont need their planets anymore.”
“True, true...”

The mechanism controlling the door to the cafeteria hissed into operation and the door slide open. The man that was cleaning the passageways entered the room smiling.

“Hello bums.” He proudly announced, “You’ll be pleased to note that I, unlike you, have finished my duties and are now entitled to a well deserved ham and mustard sandwich.”
“We don’t have any duties when this ship isn’t onsite Tranny, and neither do you.” One of the group responded.
“Stop calling me Tranny! My legal name is Transcend and that’s what I expect to be called. We’ll just see what the Captain says about those neglected duties, and I’m tempted to throw in a complaint about your name calling.” He said with a look on his face that was as smug as ever.
“We don’t have a captain.” Came the response.
Transcend growled in frustration. This conversation was obviously going downhill. He walked over to the vending machine looking for his sandwich. “Where’s the ham?” He demanded.
“Oh sorry, I got the last one.” One of the men said, showing his half eaten sandwich. A normal person would simply get a different sandwich. Transcend, on the other hand, would take this as a personal insult. He stormed towards the cafeteria door and turned to face the men at the table.
“You’re all the weakest link!” he declared before storming out of the room and off to his quarters.

Meanwhile in a secluded area elsewhere in the galaxy, inside a dense nebula, small Imperial construction craft were busy hovering around a cylindrical mass of plating, wiring, tubing, and various technological constructs. A star destroyer was nearby overseeing the operation. Obviously this operation was of some importance.

“You sent for me, father?” The young officer said after entering the bridge and approaching the Captain.
“Indeed,” The old man acknowledged, “Son look out the window and tell me what you see?”
“I see heavy lifters building a gas mining station to collect the valuable gases in the nebula, as requested.” The officer reported.
“Son, when I look out there, do you want to know what I see?”
“We had this conversation back at Coruscant, you see the fu...”
“The future,” The captain said, looking out the window, ignoring what his son was saying, “it is the future and we’re charged with the responsibility of gripping it with both hands. The future of the Empire, of the entire human race will be decided by what happens here.” The Captain had given this speech before, but once he got started it was impossible to stop him without the use of a variety of blunt objects. “You see son, the group known only as ‘The Council’,”
“Dad, I was at the briefing,”
“Now this galaxy is filled with nebulas like the one we’re looking at here,”
“I know, I’m the one that requested that we oversee,”
“Don’t interrupt boy. You’ll never make Captain with that attitude. Now where was I?” The Captain paused for a moment to remember his place before continuing with the lecture. “Those nebulas contain a gas that the Council have labelled ‘Irenisan’, after the scientist that discovered it, so they say. The gas is useless to us and frankly I have no idea what the Council want with it but they’re paying top dollar for it, and are willing to part with some very valuable territory to ensure that they get it.”
“Are you really my father? It just occurred to me that you don’t look a thing like me.”
“...and that suits us just fine.” He continued, oblivious to the fact that his son was no longer listening, “the Rebels are keep getting better equipped, and are proving to be much more dangerous then we realised. It is for that reason that the Emperor isn’t willing to commit warships,”
“I’m going now,”
“For a full-scale invasion of another galaxy. However, if someone is willing to simply give us territory, we’ll be able to increase our industrial capacity ten fold, and soon we’ll be able to spread the glory of the Empire throughout the entire universe! Starting with the Milky Way, the one those Federation types are from.”
The Captain stopped talking and noticed that his son and already left the bridge and returned to his station.
“I really have to wonder about that boy.” He said to himself, senility was starting to catch up with him.

Part 2

The terminal in Chells’ quarters chimed, alerting the ambassador to the Federation that a call was coming through. He walked over and hit the answer button. A woman dressed in formal attire appeared on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hello Ambassador Chells, I’m calling on behalf of The Council’s first contact administration service. I’m calling to advise you that The Council has approved the United Federation of Planet’s application for nebula mining and colony rights in our galaxy. I’m sending a list of all approved sectors now.”
Mining rights? Chells thought to himself. There’s obviously been some form of error.
“Ah, I think there’s been some mistake. I’m here to open diplomatic relations with the ruling council of this galaxy, I’m not here to ask for mining rights.”
“Oh, you must not have been properly informed. I have the application right here, signed by one Admiral Janeway.”
“Did you say ‘Admiral’ Janeway?” Chells asked, emphasising the word admiral.

Earth, 6 months previously:
The admirals of the Federation were gathered in a conference room discussing Starfleet affairs of the highest importance.
“I firmly believe that having an admiral present would ensure that our little collecting operation ran smoothly.” One of them said, addressing the issue at hand.
“Count me out” the one sitting on the other side of the table responded.
“Oh come on people, this is our first extra galactic contact, likely to lead to more of them finally allowing us to take our place in the intergalactic community.” another replied.
“So why don’t you go then?”
“Oh hell no! I’ve got better things to do then sit around in deep space for hours on end watching over gas collectors.”

Suddenly Captain Janeway barged into the room, completely oblivious to the fact that the higher ups were in the middle of something undeniably more important then anything she had to say.
“Admiral Paris, I demand that you recommission Voyager immediately! She’s a good ship!”
“Hey, you can’t just barge in here!” One of the Admirals shouted.
“Hang on a minute,” Admiral Paris turned to the irate Captain, “you know something Captain, I think you’re right.”
“Que?” One of the Admirals said during a brief malfunction in the translator.
“I am?” Janeway responded. Although when she thought about it, it was hardly a surprise that the Admiral had succumb so easily to her superior negotiating power. Admiral Paris continued,
“Voyager should be put back into active service, and you know what else?”
“Uh...” Janeway uh’d, her mind racing with blankness.
“I think you’re due for a promotion.” Admiral Paris smiled.
“You’re kidding.” One of the other Admirals commented.
“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” Janeway said, completely dumbfounded by what the Admiral was telling her.
“Congratulations ‘Admiral’ Janeway,” Admiral Ross shook her had with both of his in a congratulatory gesture, “we’re proud to have you among us. So proud in fact, that we’ve already prepared your first assignment. We’re loath to send good Admirals abroad when they could clearly be of much more use close to home, but our loss will surely be The Council’s gain...”

Present day:
“Yes, Admiral Janeway. Her ship is due to arrive in three days, the Federation authorities did inform you of this?”
“...No...”
“Oh well, it’s not really any of my business. Good day sir.”
The image disappeared and Chells was left alone in his thoughts.

Somewhere else:
A bunch of guys were sitting around a table playing a game, as guys on spaceships with nothing else going on are often known to do.
“Spyderious, you have encountered a large half-orc named Bolsca.”
“Actually, I’d like to change my name to Zathrog.” Dalton interrupts.
“Fine, whatever, Spyderious, you have encountered a large half-orc named Zathrog. He has brown hair and green eyes.”
“Grey eyes.” Dalton interrupts again.
“No more changes!” Strowbridge shouts, clearly agitated.
“Hello Zathrog, I am Spyderious. You smell like old cheese, would you like to join with me in a quest to save the scarlet monkey?” Mark says to Rob.
“Hello Spyderious, the odour of old cheese that you sense is not from myself, but is in the air because the master of these lands has just cut one,”
“I’m penalising both of you for acting out of character,” Strowbridge briefly interrupts, “and it was Deimos.”
“Was not!” Deimos shouts in his defence.
“No arguing with the Dungeon Master!” Strowbridge declares, “Zathrog, you may continue.”
“I cannot join you in your quest as I have already found the scarlet monkey in Beverly Hills, it has joined the cult of scientology in an evil plan to take over the world. The monkey must die!”
“No Zathrog! It is a good monkey that has just fallen into the false promises abound in the forsaken land of Beverly Hills!”

“Hey guys,” Deimos started, “why don’t we play games that normal starship crews play? The ones on TV are always playing poker or something.”
“It’s more of a history lesson then a game,” Strowbridge answered. “Amidst all the mythology there are a lot of important lessons about our past.”
“Yeah,” Mark added, “Beverly Hills is obviously a mythical place that never really existed but you never know about the rest of it. These ‘trolls’ could very well have been real once upon a time.”

Deimos snickered as he picked up the dice. The other guys noticed that he’d been in a good mood all evening.
“Deimos,” Strowbridge said, looking at Deimos as if he feared something horrible either has or was going to happen,
“Yeah?”
“Why are you in such a good mood?” He morbidly asked.
“Oh I was just thinking of the time I put that stuff in Tranny’s sandwich, he was vomiting for a week.”
“Heh, yeah that was funny.” Rob smirked.
“Yeah, and last week,” Deimos started laughing uncontrollably, “when I rigged the suction on the head to trigger early he nearly got sucked into space ass first. Oh god, the look on his face was priceless you should have seen it!”
Everyone at that point started laughing.
“Yeah, that was pretty damn funny.” Colin commented.
Strowbridge took a moment to consider exactly how was it that Deimos was able to see Transcend’s face while he was sitting on the head. Perhaps some questions were better left unanswered.
“Oh and this morning, after Tranny got up to do his rounds, I snuck into his room and planted that fifty megaton nuke under his bunk!.........what?”

Seconds Later:
Strowbridge came running down the corridor to where Transcend was scrubbing the bulkheads.
“Tranny! Get to the life pods! There’s a fifty megaton nuke on board and we have to abandon ship!”
“One, stop calling me Tranny. Two, I doubt that we’re in any danger. These ‘bomb’ incidents happen all the time.” Transcend answered, continuing his work.
“Are you mentally retarded? WE’RE GOING TO DIE!”
“Hey! Do mentally retarded people know Perl? You just think about that.”
“Perl hasn’t been used in over a thousand,” Strowbridge paused to consider his situation, “you know what? Hold that thought.” Strowbridge called out as he ran the other way towards the life pods.
“Simpleton.” Transcend said, shaking his head.

Then his ship exploded.

Part 3

“Simpleton.” Transcend said, moments before detonation.

On a nearby planet, two aliens were looking up at the night sky. The images of two of the planet’s moons were reflected in their large black eyes. The aliens’ green skin blended in with the local flora.
“Look Daddy!” One of them said in their own language. “A shooting star!”
“So it is,” The older one said to his daughter, “want to make a wish?”
“I wish that someday I could travel across the stars and meet a real alien!”
“Ha, ha, don’t be silly little one, there’s no intelligent life up there.”

Elsewhere:

A lone life pod emerged from hyperspace. The computer of the now obliterated vessel that the life pod was attached to had a simple procedure to perform when it came to the life pods. In the event that something goes wrong and the order is given to abandon ship, start flinging the pods into hyperspace in random directions as a means of escaping the ensuing blast. A subroutine to make sure the pods had people in them before launch was added in the first patch release. A second patch release was due out the next month to introduce pre programmed coordinates so that there was a greater then a one in a thousand chance that the pods would ever be recovered.

“Any idea where we are?” Stuart asked.
Strowbridge managed to get to the nearest available pod where Stuart Mackey and Rob Dalton were waiting. None of them knew what happened to the rest of the crew, they could only hope that they had survived, even though most of them were jerks. They didn’t know how or why Deimos brought a nuke onto the ship, but that didn’t matter anymore. The ‘EXC Evening Star’ was destroyed, and the crew scattered all over the galaxy.
“Looks like we’re in the mid section of the second spiral arm.” Dalton said, prodding away at the navigational computer.
“Whose territory?” Strowbridge asked.
“Unknown.” Rob answered. “We’re well outside the company mining zone though, I wouldn’t expect to be picked up anytime soon.”
“Are the coolant units working?” Stuart asked.
“Yes... why?” Rob responded, a little unsure of the question.
“Excellent, we may need to freeze you for food during the coming months.”
“Hey!” Rob shouted, “If anyone’s getting eaten it’s you buddy!”
“No way! The person with the most meat is dinner, that’s the rule. Besides, I’m iron deficient, I wouldn’t be good for you.”
“And you think I’d make a healthy snack?”
“Guys.” Strowbridge attempted to interrupt.
“Why wouldn’t you, you haven’t taken growth hormones have you?”
“Oh bite me.”
“I plan to.”
“Guys!” Strowbridge shouts.
“What?” They both respond in unison.
“There is a replicator on board with enough power to supply us with food for the next 6 months. Nobody is eating anyone. And look at this,” Strowbridge points to the navigation screen, “you’ll notice that there is nebula nearby with high concentrations of Irenisan gas, which means that somebody is likely to be mining it. All we have to do is hitch a ride with whoever’s there back to the council administration center.”
“Centre.” Stuart corrected.
“Whatever!”

Dalton tapped away at the navigation console. “It’ll take us about two days to get there as long as the pod’s thrusters are still working.”
“Well as long you two can avoid resorting to cannibalism for the next two days, let’s get on our way.”

Rob tapped away at the console, “We’re all good to go.”
“Do you think we’ll meet up with any other survivors?” Stuart asked.
“Unlikely,” said Strowbridge, “but ours wasn’t the first pod to launch. There have to be more survivors out there somewhere.”

Meanwhile on the other side of the galaxy:

There was a flash of light in the skies of whatever the hell planet it was. A streak of fire cut through the night as the small pod came hurtling towards the ground.
“We’re going to die!”
“Yes, and you know who’s fault it is?”
“Who’s?”
“YOURS you useless hatfucker!” Kynes yelled only inches away from Deimos’ face, “you and your god damn prank!”
“Come on Kynes,” Deimos cringed, “you guys all loved the other ones.”
“There is a subtle difference between shutting down the gravity plating in someone’s quarters and planting a sixty megaton nuke in them!”
“Jesus Kynes, I’m not that stupid. The one I used was only fifty...”
“Shut up!”
“Five seconds to impact!” The third occupant of the pod announced in his overbearing accent.

The pod came crashing into the planets surface throwing up a wall of dust with tremendous force. The pod continued to travel forward after it hit the ground, partially burying itself. Dust clouds expanded outwards from the crash site before gradually starting to settle. The pods white surface was still hot from friction. The front section was completely crushed, the demolished hull and the smoke rising from the red-hot engines was a good indication that this pod will never fly again.

A clanging sound was heard from within the pod, followed by another. Suddenly the twisted metallic slab that was the pod’s hatch dropped to the ground with a thud, shoved away from it’s broken surroundings by the pressure applied with Kynes’ foot.
Kynes exited the pod, followed by the other two occupants.
“Well this sucks.”
The trio stepped away from the pod and surveyed the landscape. They had apparently crashed onto an arid and dry planet, filled with dust and rocky mesa, a harsh uninhabited world with very little indigenous life, if any at all. Or they could have landed on a completely ordinary planet and just be somewhere near the equator.

A shallow trench was carved into the ground started where the pod first made contact at the end of its descent, finishing with the pods final resting place. There was a deep canyon that ran near were the pod had crashed. Had the pod came down one hundred meters further ahead they would be at the bottom of it. Rock formations jutted out of the ground all over the landscape. Something glimmered far off on the horizon, perhaps a settlement of some kind.
“Did anyone see the navcomp before we crashed?” Deimos asked.
“Sorry, I was too busy having an end-of-life crisis.” came Kynes’ response.
“We came out o’ hyperspace roughly twenty thousand light years west o’ the core.” The third guy said. “Though our hyperdrives be powerful, they sure as hell suck without proper navigation.”
“Well at least we came out of there in one piece.” Deimos commented. Kynes continued to glare at him, wondering if Deimos was testing him by seeing how many inane comments it would take to provoke Kynes into beating Deimos to death with the nearest blunt object.

“The first thing we need to do is find food shelter.” The man with the accent said.
“No shit?” Kynes said.
Suddenly, and conveniently, a small flying vehicle of some sort emerged from the canyon. The silence was broken by the sound of engine noise as the craft descended onto the rocky shelf where the three of them were standing, a somewhat more graceful landing then the one they made.

The craft resembled a form of sand speeder commonly found in the outer reaches of the Imperial galaxy, obviously a flying model rather then a hovering one. Kynes remembered some strange little creature with glowing eyes and a brown cape was trying to hock one off last time they were all at the administration centre.

The canopy door opened and the pilot climbed out.
“You boys look like you’re having some problems.” The pilot was a human male, looked as though he was in his late 30s, early 40s. He had short brown hair and was of an average build.
“Yer could say that.” Said the third guy.
“Any day our ship doesn’t explode and we don’t end up stranded on a strange planet is a good day. Today is not a good day.” Kynes added.
Deimos just stared blankly.
“Well, I could give you guys a lift back to the settlement, might be able to call for help from there.”
“Sounds like a good idea to me.” Deimos said, just so he wasn’t remaining silent for the conversation.
“Well let’s go then. Oh by the way, the name’s Barry.” The man introduced himself, holding out his hand for the millennia old tradition known as the handshake.
“I’m Kynes, the intellectual here is Deimos, and this guy’s”
“Von Lowe, Baron Kenneth Von Lowe, right pleased to meet ya.”


The father/offspring relationship seems to be a reoccurring theme in this universe:

“Obi Wan never told you what happened to your father.”
Luke hung on for his life. At present it looked as though he had the choice between having more body parts by the Sith Lord standing before him or falling to certain death. If only he had listened to his master, he wouldn’t be in this mess.
“He told me enough, he told you killed him!” He shouted, nearly overcome with pain.
“Luke...I am your father.”
“...No... NO it’s not true, that’s impossible!” Luke cried.
“Search your feelings, you know it be true.”
Luke paused for a moment in deep thought.
“...aw crap.”
“There, now stop being an idiot and get up here!”
“Like hell!” Luke yelled, right before he released his grip and plummeted to certain death.
“Typical, no discipline. I must make a note to slaughter the Lars family if I haven’t already.”

Part 4

“Luke...I am your father.”
“...No... NO it’s not true, that’s impossible!” Luke cried.
“Search your feelings, you know it be true.”
Luke paused for a moment in deep thought.
“...aw crap.”

USS Voyager, a ship that had seen more then its fair share of problems had just arrived in the Federation’s Council assigned frontier territory. Most of the bridge crew were now Captains, even the known terrorists and criminals, the Federation is after all an equal opportunity employer. However, when presented with the opportunity to be representing the Federation in this new galaxy they all quickly signed on.
“Captain Chakotay, we’ve cleared the wormhole and have safely arrived at the Council’s administration centre.”
“Thank you Captain Paris. Captain Of-Nine?”
“Captain Seven of Nine here Captain.” Seven’s voice echoed through the intercom.
“You may commence your scans.”
“I have already begun scanning the outlying area Captain.”
“Excellent, thank you Captain. Let me know if you find anything. Captain Tuvok, how’s things on your end?”
“Nothing to report here Captain.”
“Do you people have to do this every fucking time?” Harry said under his breath.

“Ensign Kim!” Chakotay ordered, “Take this to Admiral Janeway. She should be in her quarters.” he said, handing the Ensign a pad.
“Rot in hell.” Harry responded.
“What was that Ensign?”
“Oh, sure, I’ll go now.” Harry replied, a little louder this time.

Harry made his way to Janeway’s quarters, he couldn’t stop thinking about how miserable his life had become. “God damn intergalactic retard. What the hell does he think I am, his secretary?”

He came to the door to Janeway’s quarters and pressed the chime, alerting the Admiral to his presence. The door opened and there stood Harry’s former captain. Harry noticed the rank insignia on her collar denoting her admiral status. He’d seen it on her before, but each time it crossed his field of vision was another reminder of how he’d been passed over for promotion by Starfleet every single time.
“Captain Chakotay ordered me to give this to you.” He said, sounding as surly as ever.
“Oh wonderful.” The Admiral said as Harry handed over the pad. “HA! Oh God that’s funny, listen to this. ‘What can you tell me about current affairs?’ ‘Not a lot,’ said the blonde, ‘I’ve never had an affair with a current.’”
Harry just stood there while the Admiral cackled to herself in her hideous horse-like laugh.
“And this one, ‘What can you tell me about Kipling?’ ‘Not a lot,’ said the blonde, ‘I’ve never kipled.’ Ha ha ha! Oh, that will be all Ensign.” Janeway said before the door closed in Harry’s face.

The terminal on the Admiral’s desk chimed, signalling an incoming call. Janeway sat down at her desk and tapped the control. Chells appeared on the screen.
“Ambassador Chells I presume.”
“Admiral Janeway, I’m pleased to see that you made it here safely.” Chells responded.
“The mining operation looks very impressive, I look forward to meeting this Council personally.”
“I’d love to shoot the breeze Admiral, but I’m afraid I have some questions that need answering.” Chells cut straight to the point, the information he was given was vastly insufficient there was no way he could fulfil his duty without getting some answers, or at least being told why he was there.

“I’m all ears.” Janeway responded with a true to character cliché.
“Admiral, I was under the impression that I was here to establish diplomatic relations. But ever since I got here I’ve been bombarded with paperwork dealing with mining rates, territorial declarations, settlement notifications, the list goes on. Just what exactly is it there I’m here to do?” Chells’ diplomatic training was the only thing preventing him from screaming at the Admiral in language that hasn’t been used in the Federation since Harry left the bridge.
“Ambassador, you are here to establish diplomatic relations. The terms however are slightly different then normal.”
“Admiral, you are aware that it is against Federation Policy to establish settlements outside our own quadrants?” Chells asked, clearly displeased.
“You don’t need to lecture me on Federation policy ambassador. As I said, the situation is different this time. Our goal here is to establish the Federation as a member of the intergalactic community. And as I’m sure you’re aware, that’s not exactly that easy.”
“I know all that, but why do we need to engage in this utterly time wasting competition? What the hell does gas mining have to do with diplomacy?”
“Ambassador,” Janeway paused to consider her response, “you would have seen the thousands, if not millions of species passing through the commons station. The Council has its connections numbering in the millions. We’re all used to simply having to deal with Romulans, or Klingons, or maybe Cardassians. This is a whole different ball game. Ambassador, most of these races aren’t even monocultural! If we manage to,” she paused briefly to carefully select her next word, “ingratiate ourselves with the Council, then we’ll be able to establish relations with almost any race in the known universe. Think about it, new allies to help our fight against the Borg, new technologies, trading partners,”
“Trading partners?” Chells interrupted, “Since when has the Federation been in need of trading partners?”
“Ambassador, it’s a new era and the Federation is going to need to make some changes if we hope to survive. In the meantime, why don’t you do a little exploring? Try and get to know the locals.”
“Very well,” Chells sighed, “but I’m still going to need more information. I need to know exactly what the Federation plans on bringing into this arena, how many collectors, how many support ships, what it plans to build, all details on settlement construction, everything.”
“I’ll transmit everything you need to know and when we arrive I will personally give you a full briefing on everything.” Janeway said, reassuringly.
“Very well, I look forward to your arrival,” sometimes outright lying was necessary in diplomacy, “Chells out.”

Meanwhile, Ensign Harry Kim was fuming with anger as he returned to the bridge.
“Blonde jokes,” he said to himself, “God damn blonde jokes!”
He was absolutely furious. He’d been given some pretty demeaning tasks in his time, but being made to deliver a list of blonde jokes from Chakotay to the Admiral was a new low for him. “Why? Am I getting assigned jobs that he thinks are too low for the COM system to handle now? Is Chakotay messing with me? Is he doing this on purpose? Am I just some kind of joke now?” Harry shut his mouth just as he realised that he was talking to himself quite loudly. ‘Am I going insane?’ he thought to himself.

Something flashed through Harry’s mind. Before he realised what he was doing he raised his hand, collecting a small spherical object that appeared from around the corner. The item that flew into his hand was metallic, with a red blinking light facing away from his palm.
“Oh Ensign Kim,” Neelix emerged from the same direction as the object first appeared, “you found it. I’ve been looking everywhere for it!”
“What is it? Harry asked.
“I picked it up from a merchant on our last away mission. He said it was some form of meat tenderiser, but when I turned it on it flew out of my hand, bounced of one of my pans and took off out the door. It wrecked a perfectly good frying pan. How did you find it?” Neelix plucked the device from Harry’s grasp and pressed the red light, turning it off.
“I caught it.” Harry answered.
“Wow, I’m surprised it didn’t break your hand! It was going mighty fast.” Neelix said, checking Harry’s hand for injury. “You must have really good reflexes.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’m quite surprised myself.”

“Attention all you space ladies out there, this is Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Mad Ando coming at you, LIVE, from life pod five! We’re in some serious trouble here. The ship’s idiot blew up the ship and now we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere! And with news, it’s the master of all things cheesy, Lord Edam!”
“What are you doing?” Edam asked.
“I’ve never had my own show before. And we should be calling for help anyway shouldn’t we?”
“No one’s in range Mr ‘WeeMadAndo’, by the time your message reaches anyone we wont even be rotting anymore.”
“Not a very positive guy, are you Edam?” WeeMadAndo notices Phong mucking around with the navigational computer. “Something up?” He asked.
“I had the Evening Star’s computer transmit the pod launch data up until the point of detonation. It looks as though all 30 pods were launched. It’s likely that everyone got out safely.” Phong reported.
“Great,” Edam said, “if they’re ever recovered ExaCom can bill them for the missing pods.”
“Hey, what do you guys think of the name ‘Howling Mad Ando’?”
“Oh shut up.”

Part 5

“Great,” Edam said, “if they’re ever recovered ExaCom can bill them for the missing pods.”
“Hey, what do you guys think of the name ‘Howling Mad Ando’?”
“Oh shut up.”
--

“We’re coming into range now.” Stuart reported. Outside the pod’s window they could see the mining station. A large platform built around a cylindrical construct made up of docking arms for the collectors and long tubes where the gas is pumping into containers on the platform. The design was quite common. A lot of the participants in the Council’s challenge had little experience with nebula gas mining and so built their facilities based on Council specifications.
“Attention mining station, this is Christopher Scott Strowbridge of Evening Star Life Pod Twenty Three. We request permission to dock.”
“This is Pyre Station,” the reply blared through the Pod’s COM system, “state your intent.”
“An idiot blew up our ship and we were hoping that someone on your station might be able to give us a ride back to the administration center on the commons station.” Strowbridge responded.
“Is the idiot with you?”
“No.”
“Then proceed to docking bay three. Pyre station out.”

“Well that was easy.” Stuart remarked.
“Yeah,” said Dalton, “Now we’ve just got to hope that there’s someone here willing to give us a ride.”

The pod touched down in the station’s docking bay without incident, probably making the most successful pod landing in company history. At least it would have had they not already been beaten to it. The trio exited the pod.
“Oh fresh air! Fresh, artificially produced, slightly foul smelling air!” Dalton exclaimed after taking in a deep breath.

The docking bay was reasonably large, with enough room for ten small craft as well as refueling and maintenance equipment.
“Hey guys, look!” Stuart was pointing at the vehicle parked next to theirs.

It was none other then life pod seventeen. Obviously other survivors from the Evening Star had made it to the station.
“Who do you think was,” Dalton started.

“Hi guys.” Came a familiar voice from behind them.
“Chris, Wilson!” Dalton called out.
Standing behind them was Chris O’Farrell and Rob Wilson, two more of the Evening Star’s crewmembers.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?” Stuart asked.
“We got here just before you did.” Wilson replied, “We were hoping that someone here might be able to help us out.”
“The life pods suck.” Chris announced. “Powerful fast hyperdrives only no motivators and no hyperspace navigation system, short range distress beacons, no supplies for dealing with hostile environments, it can’t even make planetary landings without crashing down! Who the hell designed these things?”

“We know Chris,” Strowbridge started, “but look on the bright side, think of all the money we’re going to make when we sue ExaCom.” Strowbridge looked at O’Farrell and Wilson, something seemed missing. “Is there just the two of you?”
“Spyder was coming with us but he went back to get something just before the pod launched. We don’t know if he made it out.” Chris replied.
“I was the last one out and I didn’t see him around,” Strowbridge said, “it’s likely that he made it out.”

“Well either way, we have to get back to the commons station. The central promenade is through there,” Wilson said, pointing at the passageway leading out from the docking bay. “It looks like they’ve set up a small township on this station. There are a lot of merchants around, I’m guessing this place isn’t just a mining station.”
“Ok then,” Strowbridge said to everyone, “let’s split up and meet back here in an hour. Try to find someone with a reasonably fast ship and remember, if they want to be paid we can charge it to the company account when we get back to the commons station.”
“This should be fun.” Dalton remarked.

On the other side of the galaxy:

“Welcome to New Espa fellas.” Barry said as he escorted Kynes, Deimos, and the Baron through the settlement’s main street, a wide dirt road surrounded by dusty prefabricated shops and small dwellings. The settlement was roughly three or four kilometers wide, reasonably large for a newly established colony.
“This town is mostly made up of people working for the Corellian Industries’ precious minerals division. It’s a company back from where I come from that’s mainly into shipbuilding.”
“So who’s running this place?” Kynes asked.
“We have a Prime Minister in charge, so essentially we’re self governing. Although for the meantime we are acting under Imperial jurisdiction.”
“Imperials? I take it yer mean the ones with the soldiers in the white garb with the helmets that look like big,”
“Yep,” Barry answered before the Baron finished his question, “that’s them. We don’t have anything to do with the gas mining if that’s what you’re wondering. To tell the truth, we don’t really get on with them all that well.”
“Why’s that?” Deimos asked.
“We have our reasons.”
“Are we likely to see any Imperials here?” Kynes asked. Imperial soldiers probably wouldn’t take too kindly to workers from a rival faction intruding on their territory.
“No,” Barry answered, “they have been known to drop by every now and then but it’s unlikely you guys will see any of them while you’re here. Wait, how long are you guys planning on staying anyway?”
“Until we can get a transport back to the core.” The Baron replied.
“I think that can be arranged.” Barry smiled and continued the tour of New Espa.

Meanwhile, at the crash site, a small group of Imperial Storm Troopers were inspecting the pod’s wreckage.
“There was someone in the pod. The hatch has been kicked open from the inside.” One of them reported.
“The dust here’s been blown outward, looks like a speeder’s been through here.” Said another.
Amidst the wreckage, one of them managed to recover a small scrap of paper. It looked like a character sheer for a role playing game of some sort. The words ‘Super Deimos, Lawful Good, Paladin’ were written. The trooper immediately presented the paper to his superior.
“Look sir, geeks!”

Meanwhile, back at Pyre station.
“No, no, no!” Said the obese alien merchant, his whiskers quivering each time he spoke.”
“Look, we can pay your for your trouble,” Wilson reminded the creature, “it’s just that we can’t access the company account from here, but when we get back to the commons station...”
“Cash upfront or no transport!” The alien yelled.
“Oh forget it.” Rob stormed off back to the docking bay, unsuccessful in all attempts to convince someone to help them out.

“Any luck?” Strowbridge asked Dalton.
“No, I’ve never met a bigger bunch of tight-asses in my life. How about you?”
“Complete and utter nothingness.” Said Stuart. “Here comes Rob.”
“No luck I’m afraid guys.” Rob said as he approached. “Maybe Chris has got...”

“Hey guys!” Chris yelled from across the docking bay. He was leaning against a strange looking, oval shaped ship. It appeared to be lying on it’s back. “The owner of this Fire-Spray said we could use it.” The others briskly walked over to the ship. Obviously they were in luck. “Wow, this thing?” Stuart asked.
“Are you sure?” Strowbridge enquired.
“Yeah, he gave me the key and everything.” O’Farrell took the curved metal rod he was holding behind his back and slid it into the gap where the hatch was, prodding the mechanism behind it. “See, I just slide this in here like so,”
“Chris, is that a crowbar?” Dalton asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
“No, no, it’s just that these aliens have funny looking keys. And... Get in there!” Chris forced the ‘key’ deeper into the gap and the hatch slid open. “See, what did I tell you?”

“Well, all aboard, ...I guess.” Strowbridge says.
The guys all enter and take their seats. Wilson takes the pilot seat while Stuart climbs into the co-pilot chair. The others sit in the back.
“This feels different.” Wilson says as he finds himself looking at the ceiling of the docking bay.

Rob fires up the engines and the ship gracefully lifts off the floor and clears the docking bay. The Fire-Spray’s internal gravity returns to normal and suddenly they find themselves sitting upright. “Ah, that’s better.” Dalton says, paying little attention to the lack of space that the other passengers are silently suffering from.

Suddenly a pair of Z-95 fighters appear on the screen, sortied by station security. “Attention stolen craft, return to the station immediately or we will open fire.” Comes the voice through the Com system.
“Chris!” The other two passengers, and the pilot yell in unison.
“Aw come on, you guys knew what I was doing. Besides, they need this ship back in one piece, they’re not going to shoot.”
“Shit!” Wilson yells as he pushed the flight-stick forward, evading a stream of gunfire from the lead Z-95. The other fighter opens fire and the Fire-Spray dodges and weaves frantically to avoid them. “You were saying?”
“I’ve laid in a course back to the commons station.” Stuart announces.
“How the hell do you activate the hyper drive in this thing?” Rob asked, frantically searching the control panel for the hyperdrive controls. He pulled back on the flight-stick, evading more gunfire from the Z-65s.
“I think it might be this one.” Strowbridge says as he reaches over to the control panel.

Suddenly a back panel on the Fire-Spray opened up and a small metallic device drifted away. The fighters swerved to avoid it. As they cleared the object it quietly exploded into a small blue cloud.
“Well that was unimpressive.” Dalton said.
Suddenly a wall of energy leapt of from the cloud and the fighters were caught in the blast. The shockwave tore the fighters apart leaving nothing but debris.
“Maybe it was the other one.” Strowbridge said. “Let’s get out of here before they call in reinforcements.”
“Yeah, we might just do that.” Wilson said as he pulled the switch.
The Fire-Spray’s engines revved up to full power then, with a flash, the small craft jetted off into the unknown.

Part 6

“You know Ensign, you should really learn to lighten up.” Paris said.
Harry and Tom were on an away mission, surveying a planet for potential future colonisation. The landscape was lush and green and trees were everywhere, of course you get that when you’re standing in the middle of a forest.

He never calls me Harry anymore, Harry thought to himself. Paris was once his best friend, now he treats him like dirt just like everyone else that shot ahead of him in the chain of command.
“You know if you work hard and apply yourself, there’s a good chance you might make lieutenant someday.”
The words ‘Just stop talking’ went through Harry’s mind. He’d say exactly what he was thinking if it wasn’t for the fact that nearly the entire crew of Voyager had the power to send him to the brig.
“Starfleet rewards hard work and determination. Look at me, even though I was thrown in prison for helping the Maquis, Starfleet saw that I was one of the best they had and, not only was I reinstated, but I was promoted too.”
“And I’m sure the fact that Daddy was an Admiral had nothing to do with it.” Harry commented under his breath.
“You see, if you want to get anywhere in life,” Paris continued, “you have to be prepared to show everyone that you’re a winner. You have to give it everything you’ve got. One time, I was on Earth and this old man walks up to me and...”
Harry wondered if there was something wrong with the translator, because all he was hearing was “Blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, I’m the greatest in the universe, blah, blah.”

“...But then of course he wouldn’t believe I was the greatest, so I went to that weekend training seminar and made captain...” Paris prattled on and on.
Harry stood there and thought for a minute. Tom’s back was turned and Harry was carrying a hand phaser. One blast at full power would surely vaporise the body. He just had to push that button and then he could make up whatever story he liked when he got back to Voyager.
“…Man, that was fun. I was so drunk for the captaincy exam, you wouldn’t believe it.”
Harry reached for his phaser.
“...Come to think of it, it wasn’t so much as hard work that got me through the academy, so much as hard liquor.”

Before Harry could figure out what was going on, his right arm was constricted behind him. A gloved hand covered his mouth, preventing him from getting Tom’s attention. He struggled to get free.
“...I wonder how long it’ll take for me to make Admiral.” Paris continued on, oblivious as Harry was dragged down into the bush.

“Man it stinks in here.” WeeMadAndo, as well as Phong and Edam were having their own problems. They’d been drifting through space for days, cramped inside the tiny life pod.
“When we get back I’m going to see what I can do about getting tacos taken off the life pod replicator menu.” Edam said, much to the agreement of the other occupants of the pod.

The navigational system beeped and, for a moment, a small dot appeared on the screen.
“What the hell was that?” Asked Ando.
“Probably nothing,” Phong said in response, “sensor interference perhaps.”
“Hey wait a minute.” Edam get up and climbed toward the computer. The small green digits at the bottom of the screen were changing rapidly, five digit numbers quickly rising and falling. Before the changes were relatively slow. Edam tapped the controls, bringing up the sensor readout. “Looks like there’s some ionisation where that blip appeared. I think there’s a ship out there.”

Ando immediately switched on the COM link. “Mayday, this is life pod five from the EXC Evening Star. If anyone’s out there we’d really appreciate it if you’d pick us up.”
The three of them sat and waited, but there was no response.
“Aw come on man! Three guys, one toilet and nothing to eat but tacos. Have a heart!”
Still no response.
“Well that sucks.” Edam announced. “So who’s up for some tacos?”

The computer beeped and the small green dot appeared on the screen again.
“I think someone’s coming.” WeeMadAndo said, eyes glued to the monitor.

As the dot came closer to the centre of the display, it seemed to separate into small dots.
“Looks like there’s more then one.” WeeMadAndo concluded. The sensors were much more accurate at close range. It was highly likely that a group of ships at long range would show up as a single object.
“Something’s wrong,” Phong watched as the blips got closer and closer, “those are way to small to be shuttles, they look more like fighters.”
“What the hell would fighters be doing here?” Edam asked.
“Yeah, we’re out in the middle of nowhere.” Ando added.
“We’re about to find out,” Phong answered, “they’re coming into visual range.”

As the ships got closer the occupants of the pod were able to make out their forms. Two black solar panels, hexagon shaped, with a spherical cockpit mounted between them.
“We’re screwed.” Edam concludes.

The TIEs screamed towards their target, accelerating to attack speed. The high-pitched whine of their engines was deafening, at least to the pilots anyway. The three onboard the pod could only watch in silence as the Imperial fighters closed in for the kill.

Suddenly, another fighter group emerged from hyperspace. These new fighters had a more conventional look to them with their long fuselages and X shaped wings.
“Rogue Squadron, lock S-foils in attack position and engage hostiles.” The leader ordered.

The TIEs broke formation and engaged the X-Wings. Green and Red streams of canon fire crossed each other as the fighters ducked and weaved. A flash of light followed by expanding TIE fighter debris signalled the demise of one of the Imperial fighters.

One by one the TIEs went down in flames.
“The Imperials look like they’re getting their arses kicked.” Ando said as he watched the X-Wings make short work of their opponents. The X-Wing pilots were clearly more experienced then the men inside the TIE fighter cockpits.

A barrage of red gunfire connected with its target and the last TIE was reduced to scrap.
“Heh, heh, heh, who’s your daddy, Imperials?” Ando called out.
“What makes you so sure the other fighters aren’t going to fire on us?” Phong asked, still remembering that they had no idea what the other fighters wanted.
“You’re somewhat of a pessimist aren’t you Phong?”
“Pessimism and realism aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Attention escape pod,” a voice echoed through the pod’s COM system, “please state your situation.”
Edam climbed over to the console and tapped one of the buttons, securing the channel. “We’re ok but we need transport back to the Council’s commons station in the galactic core. Can you help us out?”
“Negative, there are Imperial patrols all around this area. We will however call a transport and have you taken back to base.”
“That would be much appreciated.” Edam responds.
“Back to base?” Phong asked, “He doesn’t even know who we are.”
“Who cares,” Ando replied, “at least it means getting out of this pod.”

Meanwhile,
“...And that’s about it. I hope you were paying attention Ensign because if you want to get anywhere, I’m the one you should be listening to.” Paris turned around to find no one standing behind him. “Ensign? ...Ensign Kim? ...Hello?”

Part 7

The hatch of the Fire-Spray opened and the five of them piled out onto the floor of the docking bay clutching sore ribs and various sore mussels. They had arrived safely back at the commons station and were more then eager to get back to their home galaxy.
"Owwww, cramp." Strowbridge groaned. "Chris, next time you steel a ship, do you think you could pick something bigger?"
"Yeah I'll bear that in mind...ow" Chris said, nursing the spot on his arm that spent the entire flight under pressure from Dalton's elbow.

"Well guys, the hard part's over." Said Wilson, himself and Stuart being the only ones to have seats to themselves and thus avoiding the cramp the other passengers had to ensure. "All we have to do now is book ourselves on the next ExaCom transport back home and it'll be nothing but smooth sailing from here on."
"As you're all aware," Strowbridge started, "under article 3.22 of the contract we all signed, in the event of a disaster such as the destruction of the ship, all survivors are automatically granted the remaining duration of their contracts on paid leave."
"This is going to be so sweet!" Stuart said as he grinned like a mad man. "No work for three whole years!"
"I could ask for the money in bulk and go into business for myself." Dalton mused. "My own donut parlor...at last I will reveal myself to the Krispy Kreme Empire, at last I shall have my revenge..."
'Legitimate earnings? That's just unAustralian.' Chris thought to himself.

"Yes guys," said Strowbridge, "nothing could stop us now."

Minutes later:
"Dead!? What do you mean dead!?" Strowbridge shouted at the woman behind the counter.
"I'm sorry sir, but ExaCom has officially declared all crew and passengers aboard the EXC Evening Star killed in action. I'm afraid I can't issue your group's boarding passes."
"How the hell could I possibly be dead?" Strowbridge fumed. "I'm standing right in here!"
"I'm very sorry, but the system simply wont process individuals that are not currently living."
"But we are currently living!"
"I'm terribly sorry, but not according to my records. If you wish for your remains to be transported back to your home planet I may be able to slot you in on the next outbound cargo freighter."
"You expect us to travel in an unpressurised cargo hold?"
"Well if you forgive me for saying sir, it's not as if any of you will get any deader."

Strowbridge stormed off back to the main lobby and explained the situation to the others.
"Oh great," Dalton said in response, "so now what are we going to do?"
"This has to be illegal, can't the UN do anything about it?" Stuart asked.
"We need to contact someone back home and try and get us declared not dead." Strowbridge responded.
"But who do we know with enough influence to do that?" Chris asked in response.
"I have an idea." Wilson Declared.

The terminal in her office chimed and the image of the local operator appeared on the screen.
"Excuse me ma'am, but I have a collect call from the galactic core in the Council galaxy for you from Rob Wilson, Chris Strowbridge, Chris O'Farrell, Rob Dalton, and Stuart Mackey. Do you accept the charges?"
"They're alive? Yeah sure, put them through. Just charge it to the company account."

The image flicks over to that of the guys on the commons station.
"Raven! Thank God, we seriously need your help." Wilson said, the tone of his voice sounding clearly distressed.
"Hi guys, thought you were all dead..."
"Yeah, we get that a lot." Strowbridge said. "Listen, ExaCom's declared us dead and we can't get transport back home. Is there anything you can do?"
"Absolutely, I can get an executive order demanding that you guys get declared as being alive and full of health, and have the status of the other survivors changed to missing instead of killed, and ensure that you guys are aptly compensated for the mix up..."
"Raven, you are an absolute Goddess." Stuart remarked in appreciation.
"...as soon as you guys get back here in one piece to prove that you're not dead." Raven finished.
"God damn it." Dalton responded.
"Exactly how the hell are we supposed to do that?" Strowbridge enquired.
"You're aboard an intergalactic commons station aren't you? There has to be someone there that can help."
"We haven't exactly had a lot of luck in that department." Said Chris.
"Well anyway, the first thing you guys have got to do is recover the other survivors. The Evening Star's flight recorder should have the hyperspace vectors of all the pods still recorded. I suggest you guys go back and search the wreckage."
"Raven, we are SO not packing five people into that Fire-Spray again." Stuart announced.
"Who said anything about a Fire-Spray? There's an executive shuttle parked in the docking bay, just take that." Raven said, "I've got to go now guys, you can call me anytime from the shuttle. Bye!"
The image on the terminal became blank.

"Alrighty then," Wilson started, "any idea where we could secure an intergalactic transport?"
"If I recall correctly, one of the Federations from a parallel Earth has access to wormhole generating technology." Chris stated. The others immediately started scanning the surrounding area, looking for black spandex-like uniforms.
"I know the one you mean Chris," Strowbridge said, "But it doesn't look like any of them are around."

As Dalton glanced around he noticed a human male talking to the woman behind the counter.
"Excuse me, can you tell me if the starship USS Voyager has arrived yet?"
"I'm sorry Mr Chells, but we haven't heard from them in days."
"Damn, they're already overdue. What the hell could be keeping them?" Chells asked rhetorically. "For an Admiral of the Federation you'd think she'd learn to be a little more punctual. Could you please let me know when the ship arrives?"
"Certainly Mr Chells."
"Thank you."

"Guys," said Dalton, "I think we're in luck."

Meanwhile on Voyager, there was a small gathering in the mess hall.
"Friends, honoured Captains," Admiral Janeway started her speech, "we are gathered here today to honour the memory of Ensign Harry Kim. A man who lost his life in service to the Federation and for that there is no higher..."
"Excuse me," Seven interrupted, "but is this going to take long? I'm needed in astrometrics."
"I'd say about five minutes." Janeway responded.
"Admiral, I believe this is an inefficient use of our time. If we had simply scanned the planet and beamed Harry up, it would have only taken one person less then a minute to complete the task and we would not be here today. Instead five minutes is being wasted out of the lives of every single person in this room."
"You know something Seven?" Janeway asked, "You're absolutely right. Well, there's no point in wasting any more time, thanks for coming everybody. Captain Paris, you may resume course."

Meanwhile Kynes, Deimos, and The Baron were having their own problems, Storm Troopers were swarming all over New Espa. It wouldn't be long before they were discovered.

The door to the shelter opened and Barry entered.
"You guys are in some serious trouble, Imperial Storm troopers are swarming all over the town."

"Damn," Deimos exclaimed, "wait, why are they here again?"
Kynes immediately got up and whacked Deimos across his face leaving a visible red mark.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"I'm mean and bored, and you're a useless hatfucker."
"But I don't even have a hat...OWW!" Deimos yelled as the second strike impacted against his face. "Ok, I'll be quiet."
"Thank you."

"Aye laddie, we are in a bit o' trouble." The Baron said, ignoring the antics of the other two. "But wot are we goin' to do?"

"There's a ship parked near the edge of town. If we sneak out there at nightfall I should be able to get you guys off-world."
"That would be a tremendous help lad!"
"It sure would," Deimos said, "but before we leave, do you think we could ask the Storm Troopers where they get those uniforms? They'd go really well on casual friday..................OWWW!"

Part 8

Space; quiet, peaceful, serene and full of stars, just like the great monoliths in Milky Way galaxy number thirty eight on the Council’s list. The limitless blackness can be at times overwhelming for even the most experienced space traveller. The endless void, the drifting gasses of the nebula, the burning suns, the unexplained astral phenomenon sucking in helpless alien starships every five parsecs, the universe was a truly wondrous place.

“Space; quiet, peaceful, serene...”
“I know what space is Dad. Why did you call me up here?” The young Imperial Captain asked impatiently. His father had called him away from his duties again, his son didn’t mind that so much as the often inane reasons he would give for doing so. After all, the son had his own Star Destroyer to take care of. What he couldn’t understand was what exactly his father did all day. Being in charge of the entire Imperial operation in the Council’s galaxy wasn’t obviously taking up much of his time.
“Actually son, this time it’s important.” The Admiral said. “There’s someone you need to meet that should be arriving soon.”

The quiet tranquillity of space was suddenly interrupted as one behemoth of a Star Destroyer jumped into the area from h

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-03 04:07am
Offline
Sith Marauder
User avatar

Joined: 2002-09-03 03:23am
Posts: 4453
Location: Wellington, New Zealand
<Whoops... here's the rest of it.>

The quiet tranquillity of space was suddenly interrupted as one behemoth of a Star Destroyer jumped into the area from hyperspace. Around twenty kilometres of high density armour, innumerable weapon batteries and engines that could churn out more thrust then an entire legion of porn stars on a caffeine rush, had suddenly manifested itself right in front of the Admiral’s Star Destroyer.

“Admiral!” A random but probably important crewman shouted. “We are receiving a transmission from the Executor!”
“Put it through.” The Admiral ordered. “Ah Lord Vader...”
The small holographic image of the dark lord of the Sith appeared before him.
“you’ll be pleased to know that we are ahead of schedule despite the rebel attacks. The Council has even allotted us additional territory for our collectors!” The Admiral turned to his son and whispered in his ear “you know, he looks kind of pathetic when he’s only six inches tall.”
“I heard that.” Came the reply in Vader’s deep mechanical voice.
“I’m sorry my Lord! What I meant to say was ACK!” The Admiral started gasping for air, before falling to the ground, dead.
“Captain Jearaat,” Vader started.
“Ah...yes my Lord?”
“You are now Admiral Jearaat. See that you do not fail me.” Vader said before disappearing from the projector.

The new Admiral paused for a moment in deep thought. “......................Sweet!”
“Congratulations sir, we will prepare an Admiral’s uniform prepared for you immediately.”
“No need lieutenant. Abra-cadaver,” He said as he plundered the rank insignia from his father’s corpse.

Meanwhile on the Executor, Vader was waiting in his chamber. The projector in front of him flickered back into life. A clocked figure appeared, his face was unrecognisable due to the resolution, perhaps the Empire will no better next time then to rely on late 70’s contractors for their communications needs.
“The operation is proceeding as planned, my master.” Vader told the figure. There was only one person in the universe that Vader called master. At least ever since his wife died anyway.
“Good, very good. And what of the other matter?” The Emperor asked.
“They have yet to be found and their people believe them to be dead, there will be no rescue mission.”
“This was most unexpected.” The Emperor commented. “Perhaps they are more cunning then I had foreseen.”
Vader remained silent.
“There is something else?” The Emperor asked.
“I have felt a disturbance in the force. There is a presence here, it seems all too familiar.”
“Pay it no mind. In time the ones we seek shall come to you. You are far from home Lord Vader, in time your feelings will become clear again. If there truly is another present, then there is little doubt, he will make himself known soon enough.”
“Yes, my master.”

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the galaxy:

It was a very picturesque world. Lush green trees, grass, a nearby river, the woods were teaming with native wildlife. Mountains of light blue crystal surrounded the valley. The sun was getting lower and lower in the sky casting a red glow that shimmered off the crystalline mountains.

A lambda class shuttle was parked in the clearing. There was no one inside, the interior was completely bare, as if it were brand new. There was even a faint smell of new leather.

He gradually opened his eyes, groaning quietly as he caught sight of the bright red sky. He was lying on the ground outside the shuttle, failing to remember exactly what chain of events brought him there. As he regained consciousness he soon realized that he was holding something in each hand. Something solid, and something thin, like paper. He started to become more aware of his surroundings, he was on a strange planet, that much was obvious from the funny looking mountain range, the thing he was lying next to was obviously how he got there. Slowly, he managed to lift his head and eventually his upper body off the ground. The ownership papers to the lambda class shuttle were in his right hand, and an empty bottle of Vodka was in the other.

“Oh Christ,” He mumbled, discarding the empty bottle as he stammered to his feat. His head pounding with pain. He still had no recollection of how he got there, or what had happened, but now at least now he knew why.

He stumbled back inside his shuttle, apparently it was his, according to the name on the ownership papers. He plonked himself down in the pilots seat and started fumbling away at the controls. “...................EXC Evening Star..................come in.” He murmured in the com system.
“Guys, come in. .......guys, this is Spyder...it happened again...”

Gradually his memory came back to him. The destruction of the Evening Star wasn’t some dream he’d had after he passed out, it really happened. Mark (people started calling him Spyder after the last time something like this happened, he doesn’t remember why) scratched his head and groaned some more.
“Oh right, the whole Deimos nuke thing. Guys if you’re reading this I’m going to try and take this thing back to the station. If you’re alive, meet me there.”
He fumbled some more with the controls and, much to his surprise, the ship responded and took flight.

The shuttle ascended and it’s wings folded down. Soon the hazy evening sky was replaced by the blackness of space. Spyder immediately slammed his fist down in the emergency door controls, sealing the hatch before he passed out (again) from the lack of oxygen. He thanked what ever deity was responsible for making sure that no one saw that and plotted a course for the commons station.
“I wonder what else is going to go wrong today.”

Suddenly, a starship appeared right in front of him from out of nowhere.
“SHIT!” Spyder manoeuvred the shuttle, narrowly avoiding the collision.
“Steady Mark, get a grip.” He said to himself.
He pushed the control for the hyperdrive forward and the lambda class shuttle lurched forward into hyperspace.

“What the hell was that?” Captain Paris yelled.
“Whatever it was, it’s gone now. Resume course.” Janeway ordered.

Part 9

“You boys wait in here,” Barry ordered, “you’re officially cargo.” With that, he left the room and sealed the door behind him.
Kynes, Deimos, and The Baron were sitting in a room inside Barry’s private transport. The bulkheads were made out of a rust coloured metal that was smooth to the touch. Metre-long slat lights built into the ceiling illuminated the room. Apart from the door leading out, the room was otherwise featureless.

A low pitched rumbling sound echoed from down below, and soon the passengers could feel the ship moving off the ground.
“Well lads,” The Baron said, “wont be long before we’re back at the ol’ commons station and that’s only slightly less longer then before we’re back home surrounded by whiskey and whores!”

The guys just sat there for a few moments in silence. Something just didn’t feel right.
“Hey, you guys want to play eye spy?” Deimos asked.
“No Deimos,” Kynes answered, “we do not want to play eye-spy, you want to know why?”
“Is it because I’m a useless hatfucker?”
“Very good. Now shut up and hopefully we’ll be back at the station before you blow up this ship too.”
“Kynes,” Deimos whined, “why are you such an arsehole? It’s not like I knew that the ship would explode. I had no idea that the bomb would be that strong.”
“Are ye freakin’ daft lad?” The Baron interrupted, “You ya’self told us it was a fifty megaton nuke!”
“Yeah that’s what it said on warning label, but it obviously didn’t weigh that much or I wouldn’t have been able to carry it into Tranny’s quarters. See, I’m not THAT stupid!”
“You can’t honestly be that stupid.” Kynes said in disbelief.
“That’s what I just said isn’t it?” Deimos responds.
“Deimos, fifty megatons wasn’t the weight of the nuke, it was...”
“Well duh Kynes, that’s what I just said. You know, you can be quite slow off the mark sometimes.”
Kynes chose not to respond, any further attempts at educating Deimos without some kind of visual aid was obviously not going to get him very far. The benefits of not having to spend the rest of the trip with a rotting corpse on board however were starting to seem all the more insignificant.

The three of them sat and waited, hours had passed and they were still inside the cargo hold.
“This is getting ridiculous.” Said Kynes. “Barry should have come to get us out of here by now. That’s it, I’m opening the door.”
“Wait lad! If there’s an Imperial ship scannin’ us while yer openin’ the door we’ll show up on their screens like three month old haggis!” The Baron announced, making it clear that opening the door was strongly ill advised.
“How many Imperial patrols could there be? He’s either flying through a straight line of them, or he’s forgotten about us.”

Kynes walked up to the door and pressed his thumb against the door control. Nothing happened.
“We’re locked in.” Kynes said.
“Maybe it doon’t open from the inside?” The Baron commented. “Although that would be a right pain in the arse if ye ever got locked in.”
“Ha, ha!” Deimos laughed, “Who’d be stupid enough to get locked in a cargo hold?”

Kynes banged on the door. “Hey, let me out of here! Barry! Open up!”
There was no response.
“He’s probably just stepped out to use the bathroom or something,” Deimos mused, confident that nothing was wrong, “he’ll be back.”

“Attention prisoners.” Barry’s voice boomed over the intercom.
“See?” Deimos said with a smug look on his face.
“I’m afraid that there’s been a slight change to our flight plan,” Barry continued, “I’m afraid we wont be stopping at the commons station. You see, my client has invested a lot of money in ensuring that I deliver you boys to him. I can’t be disappointing him now, can I?”
“DEATH TO THE ENGLISH!” The Baron shouted.
“I demand to know where you’re taking us!” Kynes yelled.
“Barry, if that is in fact you’re real name,” Deimos started, “I just want you to know that I was on to you from the start.”

“Damn, you guys are funny.” Barry responded. “In response, I’m not English.”
“Yer not Scottish and should die horribly! That makes ye English enough for me!”
“As for our destination, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Barry said in response to Kynes, ignoring the Baron’s statement. “And finally, you want to know my real name? Ha, ha, ha! If you were any smarter you would know full well who I am, for my name is Barry Fett!”

“Who?” The three of them said in unison.
“You know, the true son of the universe’s most notorious bounty hunter, Jango Fett!”
“Wait a minute,” said Kynes “you’re Jango Fett’s illegitimate bastard child?”
“The one and only.” Came the response.
“...but you’re white.” Kynes remarked.
“Hey, considering what my mother was I’m lucky I have opposable thumbs. Anyway, I think I’ve crushed your spirits with enough fear so that you wouldn’t even think about hacking into the intercom and sending a distress signal. I’ll let you know when we arrive at your new home. Barry out.” The intercom let out an audible click, signalling that Barry was no longer listening.

Kynes and The Baron wasted no time rushing over to the intercom and wrenching the front panel off the wall while Deimos starred blankly.
“Looks like there’s a password for gettin' access to the communications system.” The Baron said as he was looking at the small display that was fixed behind the panel that they removed.
“What idiot designed this system?” Kynes said aloud as he started fumbling away at the various wires protruding from the wall.
“ ‘e obviously forgot to remove the emergency com system from the hold before intendin’ to use it as a prison! I doubt that Jango was really ‘is father. In fact I suspect a spot o’ inbreedin’ is goin’ on here.”

“I’ll see if there’s a way around the password.” Kynes moved a couple of wires over and the password input screen changed to the access screen for the com system. “Ah, got it. Now to send a distress signal.”

Meanwhile on the rebel transport:
“My name’s Wedge, second in command of Rogue Squadron.”
“We’re thankful you guys came along when you did, I’m Edam.” He said as he shook Wedge’s hand.
“WeeMadAndo, you can call me Ando, or Mad Ando, or even WeeMadAndo.”
“I’m Phong. Did you say Rogue Squadron? I’ve heard of you guys, you’re like the top pilots of the Rebel Alliance right?”

“That’s us, being part of the Rebellion, we try to keep a low profile but with the Imperial activity so high in this area that’s not always easy.”
“ Judging by the way those TIEs came after us it would seem that we seem to have attracted a bit of Imperial attention ourselves.” Edam said.
“We’ve noticed.” Wedge stated in response. “I don’t know what caused the destruction of your ship, but I can tell you right now that it would never have reached its destination anyway. I assume you were all unaware of the Star Destroyer and full fighter compliment that was waiting for you at your ship’s next port of call.”
“That’s news to us.” Ando answered.
“Until we find out exactly what it is that the Imperials want with you, it would be best if you remained with us.” Wedge said.

Suddenly, a nearby console crackled into life.
“...........Hello? Is anyone there? We’re in trouble.”
“That sounds like Kynes.” Phong said as they all approached the console.
“This is Wedge of Rogue Squadron, what’s your situation?” Wedge replied.
“We’re being held captive by some inbred bounty hunter and need immediate assistance!”

“Is this guy a friend of yours?” Wedge asked.
“Yeah, it’s Kynes. Can I talk to him?” Phong asked.

Wedge stepped aside and Phong stood in front of the console.
“Kynes, it’s Phong. Who else is there with you?”
“Oh thank God! I’m trapped in a small cargo hold with von Lowe and Deimos.”
“Oh my God,” Ando started, “he’s trapped in a room with a Scotsman and a moron. Wedge, in the name of all that’s holy, we’ve got to get him out of there!”
“Ask him for his position.” Said Wedge.
“Kynes, can you tell me your position?” Phong asked.
“We’re in hyperspace, my hatfucking friend over here reckons he can tell our position from our hyperspace vector, or something. I don’t know what he’s doing and quite frankly I think we’re all going to die, but we don’t have a lot to work with.”

“They’re relying on Deimos for the coordinates?” Edam asked. “They must be in bad shape.”
“Ok,” Kynes said, “I’m transmitting the coordinates now.”

“Pilot!” Wedge shouting in the direction of the transport’s cockpit. “Set course for the new coordinates and take us into hyperspace, tell the Rogues to follow.”
“Yes sir!” Came the well thought out response.

The rebel ships came about and engaged their hyperdrives. With a flash of their engines the stars quickly grew into long streaks and then vanished behind them, replaced with the blue swirling tunnel as the transport and its escorting fighters entered hyperspace.

Several minutes passed.
“I don’t like this.” Said Ando. “If they’re in hyperspace then they’ll be gone by the time we get there.”
“Don’t worry,” Wedge responded, “we should be able to pick up their trail. Besides, we’re almost there.”

Eventually, the blue tunnel faded and the streaks appeared before quickly turning back into stars. Interesting little corner of the cosmos. If these coordinates were correct then the bounty hunter’s ship would have passed near the habitable planet that was in plain view out one of the transport’s windows. Large objects casting hyperspace shadows, such as planets, were normally something hyperdrive computers avoid like the plague. Perhaps they were nearing the end of the journey and this was the planet that they arrived at?

“Does this planet look familiar to any of you guys?” Ando said.
“Sir!” the pilot called out. “We’re receiving a transmission from the planet, but it doesn’t make any sense.”

Wedge walked over and looked at the monitor. “What the hell is that?”
“Wait a minute,” Phong said, “let me take a look at that.”
Phong walked over and looked at the monitor.


[<-Back] [Forward->] [Refresh]
Location:[http://www.smutty.com]
SEXY YOUNG LOLITAS HOT AND WAITING 4 U!
WE ACCEPT ALL MAJOR CREDIT CARDS!
Click here FOR YOUR FREE PREVIEW OF THE HOTTEST WOMEN ON THE PLANET!!!!!!!!!!!! 8======> (_|_).

Copyright: Smutty Industries, 2002.


“Aw crap!” Phong yelled. “I know what’s happened.”
“What is it?” Wedge asked.
“It looks as though Deimos’ coordinates were so wrong that in following them we’ve created a tear in the fabric of space and time, creating a portal to yet another parallel universe. Only this one has only progressed as far as the early 21st century.”
“Damn! Pilot, full reverse. Take us back the way we came.” Wedge ordered.
“Yes sir.”
“Do you think anyone will notice another tear in the Universe?” Ando asked.
“Not likely,” Edam said, “Even if they do, all these people seem to have are vast quantities of scat porn. I doubt that we’ll ever have to see them again.”

With a flash, the rebel ships entered hyperspace and returned to their own universe.

Meanwhile, on the commons station.
Chells sat at the com terminal, waiting for the person he was calling to respond. The terminal chimed and the image of Admiral Janeway appeared on the screen.
“Ah Ambassador, I think I know what this is about.” Janeway started the conversation.
“Yes. Voyager was due here two days ago,” Chells said, “there are some people here that have asked for our help. I told them I that perhaps you might be able to help them out, unless you’re otherwise occupied?”
“We’ll be there as soon as possible.” She replied. “We’re just having some crew efficiency problems after losing our only non commanding officer. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to spend some quality time in the holodeck.”
That figures, Chells thought to himself. “Very well then, but please hurry.”
“We’ll do our best ambassador, Janeway out.” The terminal chimes and the image disappears.
“Bitch.”

Part 10

The stars returned to their correct positions and the Fire-Spray emerged back into normal space, followed by another small craft featuring a long standardised hull, rounded cockpit, and three standard engines used for hyperspace and sublight travel mounted on the rear in a triangular pattern. The ExaCom executive shuttle wasn’t much to look at on the outside, on the inside however it was fitted with plush leather seats and a built in mini-kitchen.
“Who wants the Scotch?” O’Farrell called out from the back as he raided the mini-fridge.

Strowbridge and Dalton were sitting upfront, good use was going to be made of the kitchen once they’d recovered the data from the flight recorder.
“There any meat in that thing?” Dalton called back.
“Yeah, looks like a rack of lamb.” Chris answered.
“Sweet! Put that on to cook, we can have it on the way back.”
“Ok.”

While Dalton and Chris were busy sorting out the booze and in-flight snacks, Wilson and Stuart were piloting the Fire-Spray.
“Will you look at that...” Wilson said as he looked out the cockpit window. Floating outside was well over a megaton of debris spread throughout the entire sector.
“I’ve picked up the flight recorder’s signal.” Stuart reported.
“Hey Strowbridge? You reading that?” Wilson said, transmitting to the shuttle through the com system.
“Yeah, I’m downloading now...” there was a brief pause in Strowbridge’s reply, “All done.”
“That was easy.” Stuart commented.

Suddenly (and typically), a group of Z-95s emerged from hyperspace, closing in on the Fire-Spray and the shuttle.
“I have found you!” A voice boomed over the com system.
“No shit?” Dalton responded.
“You stole my ship!” The voice continued. “You have stolen my honour! You have insulted me, my family, and my clan! You have no honour!”
“Didn’t he just say that we had HIS honour?” Wilson asked.
“You must all die! My ship will be your grave!”
“You had to steal the ship from a complete retard didn’t you Chris?” Strowbridge asked rhetorically.
“Well sorry Strow, but I don’t normally screen people I steal stuff off for Trannyism.” O’Farrell responded, referring to the person Strowbridge left behind on the Evening Star. ‘I doubt that we’re in any danger. These ‘bomb’ incidents happen all the time.’ Strowbridge remembered Transcend saying, less then two minutes before detonation.

“Well! What is your answer?” Came the voice.
“Answer?” Wilson asked, sounding completely confused. “You just said you were going to kill us.”
“Oh right. You will all DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE! Which is the sound my guns will make as they make you full of holes!”
“Is this guy for real?” One of them said, it doesn’t really matter which one.
“You honourless dogs will all die!”

There was a flash of light. Before anyone knew what was going on over a dozen X-Wing’s jumped into normal space followed by a small transport ship.
“Gidday mates!” WeeMadAndo’s voice was broadcast over the com system.
“Mate!” Chris yelled.
“Man, I never thought I’d be so happy to hear on Australian.” Stuart commented, in their home galaxy New Zealand and Australian settlers had for some reason occupied adjacent star systems on the galactic rim, so the old trans-Tasman rivalry was still in effect. But for now sharing the company of two Australians was preferable to getting shot to pieces by some crotchety gas miner.

“Rebel leader! These people have no honour! I will kill them! I will kill you too!”
“Attention moron,” Wedge responded, “I’ve personally shot down over fifty Imperial TIEs in my time, my wingmen aren’t far behind. How many have you racked up?”

“You have no honour!” Came the reply, “But you’re very scary so I’ll leave you alone.” With that the Z-95’s quietly departed.
“Did that guy have downs syndrome or something?” Chris asked.
The guys paused for a moment, somewhere along the line they’d heard that voice before.

“Guys, this is Phong. I’m here with Ando and Edam. Who have you got with you?”
“Wilson here, I’m in the Fire-Spray with Stuart.” Wilson replied.
“This is Strowbridge, Dalton and Chris are with me. How did you guys get hooked up with those Rebels?”
“Long story,” Phong said through the com, “right now the good news is that we received a transmission from Kynes, Deimos, and the Baron. They’re all alive,”
‘Poor Baron’, Chris thought to himself, ‘stuck in a pod with Kynes and a moron.’
‘Poor Deimos’, Stuart thought to himself, ‘he must be devastated without his beloved hat’.
Phong continued the transmission, “the bad news is that they’ve been captured by a bounty hunter and the Empire is after us for some reason.”
“You’re kidding?” Strowbridge replied.
“We’re screwed.” Said Stuart.

“Wait, one thing at a time.” Dalton said, “Do you know where they were taken?”
“No,” Edam responded this time, “We tried to follow some coordinates that apparently came from Deimos and we ended up tearing a hole in space to a parallel universe that was full of online porn.”
“Hey, I thought we weren’t going to talk about that?” Ando’s voice whispered over the com.
“Oh right, sorry.” Said Edam, “Please disregard our last transmission.”
“Anyway, I think it would be best if you guys came with us back to the rebel base. At least until we can figure out what the Empire’s after us.” Phong told them, knowing that if any of them were caught there was no telling what would happen.
“Stuart and Wilson can go with you, but we need to take this data back to the commons station. One of the reps from the Federation told us he’d help us find any additional survivors.” Strowbridge responded.

“Then it’s settled,” Wedge transmitted, “you two in the Fire-Spray, follow us to the coordinates I’m transmitting now.
“You guys be careful.” Wilson said before closing the channel.

Meanwhile...
“Money, money, money, lots of money! It’s a Rich Barry’s world!” Barry Fett was singing aloud as his ship continued on through hyperspace. “I am so great.” He said to himself. “I am greatness!” He put his hands together in prayer and looked up at the ceiling of his ship. “Hoowah!” He yelled, throwing his fists outward and striking a macho pose.

You can imagine his surprise when his hyper engines cut out and his ship was thrust back into normal space.
“What the hell?” He said aloud, he reached for the controls in order to restart the hyperdrive. Suddenly the entire cockpit went dark.
“Oi!” He yelled. “What the hell are you assholes doing back there?” Barry grabbed his gun and marched out to the cargo hold.

“Deimos!” Kynes yelled. Deimos was still busy fumbling around with the open panel.
“Sorry, my bad! Let me fix this.” Deimos said, still mucking around with the wiring.
“Nay lad! It’s too late, he’s already coming!” The Baron shouted as the sound of footsteps from behind the door grew louder.

“You people are still worth money without your arms! If you enjoy having the ability to wipe your own asses I suggest you turn the power back on.” Came a voice from behind the door.

“The power to the door must be knocked out.” Said Kynes.
“Hooray!” Deimos exclaims, “I’m not useless!”
“You’re still a hatfucker.” Kynes reminded him.
“There be no time for this lads, if he breaks down the door we’re in deep shite!”

The Baron and Kynes backed away from the door.
“Don’t make me come in there.” Came the voice from behind it.

Suddenly, the room shook, as if something outside had made contact with the ship.
“What the hell was that!?” Kynes exclaimed.
Sparks started spitting out from the ceiling of the room. The shower of sparks moved across the ceiling, forming a circle. When it reached its starting point a section of the ceiling came crashing down.

“Get in!” Spyder yelled through the circular hole in the transport’s roof. He reached down and helped The Baron up through the ceiling and into his shuttle. The two of them then pulled up Kynes.
“Good timing!” He said as they pulled him to safety.
“Deimos, hurry up!” Spyder called out.
“Hang on Spyder, I’ve nearly got this fixed.” He replied.
“DEIMOS!” Spyder yelled in frustration.

“Oh alright, I’m coming. Sheesh.” Deimos wandered over and Spyder and the Baron pulled him up out of the cargo hold.

They sealed the shuttle’s lower hatch and Spyder took the pilots seat. The Lambda class shuttle then detached form Barry’s ship, depressurising the cargo hold in the process.
“That’s it,” Barry said from behind the door, “I’m counting to ten, then I’m coming in!”

Part 11

~Everything you’ve ever known is a lie, a fabrication to prepare you for what lies ahead.~

Commons Station:
The door to the ambassadors quarters opened and Dalton, Strowbridge, and Chris entered. The three of them had already arrived back at the station and were on their way to meet with the Ambassador.

“I’m glad you made it.” Said Chells as he greeted the others. Strowbridge presented the Ambassador with a small data crystal. “It’s better that I present you with this in person.” Strowbridge said, handing over the crystal. “We don’t know why yet, but from the sound of it the Empire has been chasing down our pods.”
“What would the Empire want with you guys?” Chells asked.
“That’s what we’d like to know. Sounds like some of our guys have already been kidnapped by some bounty hunter.” Dalton answered, much to Chells’ confusion.
“Don’t forget the gas miner I liberated the Fire-Spray from.” Chris adds.

Chris walked over to the table, “Mind if I use your terminal? Need to make a call.”
“Go right ahead.” Chells said.

“Anyway,” Strowbridge continued, “we ran into some Rebels while we were at the wreckage. Some of our guys were with them, Wilson and Stuart have gone back with them to their base.”
Chells paused for a moment .
“Is something wrong?” Strowbridge asked.
“No, I’m just thinking about how absurd your situation is.” Chells answered, “You say a moron blew up your ship, now Imperials are after you, as is some miner whose ship your friend stole, and then there’s a bounty hunter, and now you’re consorting with a rebel forces from another galaxy?”
“Don’t forget yourself.” Said Dalton.
“Yes, how could I forget that little detail... So what are you three going to do now?” he asked.
“The only thing we can do now is wait here and hope more survivors turn up,” said Dalton, “which suits me just fine.”

“Hey guys,” Chris calls out, “I’ve got Raven on the line.”
“Hi guys,” came Raven’s voice from the terminal. “Hey I’ve got good news. Apparently registered transports have picked up another Pod. It seems as though Wilkins, Boyd, and Witz have been found. They’re on their way back to the station now.”
“That’s great!” Dalton exclaims. “Hopefully we’ll recover the rest of them with that flight recorder data.”
“I’ll get on it right away.” Said Chells, “When Voyager arrives we can go out looking for them.”
Strowbridge paused for a moment thinking about the others, “How do you think the others are getting on?

~You know what you have to do, you feel it with every fibre of your being.~

Meanwhile, Phong, Edam, WeeMadAndo, Stuart, and Wilson were waiting inside a medical chamber at the rebel base. The base itself was simply a collection of prefabricated structures placed in a forest on a planet nearly the galactic rim. The Rebels liked building secret bases in forests for some reason, it wasn’t as if they’d get any more protection from it, it was more or less something they just did out of habit. The main problem of course being that they tend to lose more Rebels to poisonous, or sometimes just curious flora and fauna.

Inside the medical chamber, the medical droid carefully inserted the needle into WeeMadAndo’s arm and started extracting blood. When the small container was full, the droid removed the needle and swabbed the area with bacta, preventing infection and further bleeding.
“So what are these tests for anyway?” Ando asked as he got off the table.
“Standard procedure,” said Wedge, “the last thing we need is someone coming into a rebel compound with an infectious disease.”

Phong rolled up his sleeve and sat next to the medical droid as it was replacing the needle. The droid placed the full container in the receptacle of the analysis computer before inserting a new one into itself. Wedge, and one other rebel were standing over next to the terminal as the results were coming through.
“What the hell is that?” Said Wedge.
“ Luke needs to see this.” The other one responded.

~Your final task is at hand.~

“Captain,” Said Captain Tuvok. “A small vessel is hailing us, they request permission to land in our shuttle bay in order to make repairs.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Chakotay half-heartedly responded.

The vessel had an interesting look about it. The hull where the pilot sat was round and the curved angular wings folded in as the nearly twenty seven metre long craft entered the Voyager’s shuttle bay. Luckily there was a lot of spare room in there.

A figure wearing a black hooded cloak exited from a ramp at the rare of the vessel. And strolled casually up to the turbo lift entrance and entered a waiting lift. Voyager security was indeed at its finest.

Meanwhile on the bridge; Chakotay, Tuvok, and Paris were busy doing absolutely nothing.
“Why are we here?” Paris asked.
“That’s a very profound question.” Chakotay answered. “Many ancient philosophers...”
“No, I mean why are we here now, in this system? Aren’t we meant to be doing something?” Paris asked.
“Oh right.” Said Chakotay. “Well, it’s always been standard procedure for us to travel for a bit, then stop and do something completely useless just for the hell of it. Why break with tradition?”
“Good point.” Paris said and resumed doing nothing.

The turbolift door opened and the cloaked figure entered the bridge.
“Oh hi, you must be the guy that need those repairs.” Chakotay greeted the cloaked stranger. “We don’t normally allow visitors on the bridge, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The cloaked figure raised his hands and gripped the edges of his hood. He slowly pulled it back, revealing his face.
“Ensign Kim!” Captain’s Paris and Chakotay exclaimed.

The cloaked figure was in fact Ensign Harry Kim, the one that was believed to be lost on the forest planet that Voyager was surveying a few days earlier. Although, he looked different. There was a lot of anger evident on his face which had grown pale since the last time they meet. His hair was different too, spiky on top instead of naturally parted like it was before.

Tom got up and approached the Ensign. He reached out to shake his hand.
“It’s great to have you back! I tell you, this place is boring when everyone’s the same rank.”

Just as Tom reached out, Harry pulled a small cylindrical metallic object from his belt. At the snap of a button a long blade of red light hissed into life. Harry swung the ignited weapon, severing Tom’s right arm. Harry brought the blade around in a graceful overhead swing and cleaved Tom’s head clean off his body before he had time to react. Tom’s corpse fell to the ground with a thud and Harry grinned as he decided which one of them he was going to kill next.

“Tuvok! Shoot him!” Chakotay bellowed as the stench of burning flesh filled the bridge.
“May “I remind you Captain, that it seems as though he has a weapon of his own. Firing on him may provoke an armed conflict.”

Harry made up his mind. He spun around towards the tactical station, gliding effortlessly through the air. Not even Tuvok’s Vulcan reflexes could save him as the blade entered his body above his left collarbone and exited under his right rib cage, separating the top half of his torso. Now Tuvok’s lifeless corpse was in pieces on the ground, as was part of the console that was cleaved in the attack. The floor of the bridge was now covered in a mix of Vulcan and Human blood that was free flowing from the fallen bodies.

Chakotay tapped his communicator. “Help! This is the bridge! Harry’s back and he’s gone postal! GAAAK!” Chakotay suddenly felt an invisible force gripping his throat and fell out of his chair.
“Knock it off Chakotay, this is the fifth prank call you’ve made today. We’re not buying it.” Came the reply. Harry casually walked over and stabbed the light saber into his back and through his heart, ending Chakotay’s life in probably the cleanest death any of them have had so far. Chakotay’s lifeless body flopped flat on the floor of the bridge.

“Computer, lock down all systems and respond only to my commands.” Harry commanded.
“Only authorised Star Fleet personal may issue that command.” The computer responded.
“Computer, you will respond to my commands, and only my commands.”
There was a brief pause as the bio-neural gel packs processed the information.
“I will respond to your commands and only your commands.” The computer replied.
“Now lock down all systems.” Harry ordered.
“Locking down all systems.”
“And you will address me as ‘my Lord’.”
“Yes my Lord.” The computer responded.

Harry extinguished his light saber and entered the Turbo lift heading for Voyager’s various other sections. It was time to clean house, so to speak.

“Bridge, this is engineering.” B’Elanna announced, “What the hell is going on up there? The computer’s locked us out, we can’t even get the door open!”
No sooner had she said that, the doors to engineering opened and there was Harry, anger raged through every part of his body. But this wasn’t an ordinary bad mood. Harry was in complete control, his anger was merely a tool, like any other. A tool he was going to use to right everything that had gone wrong during the time he spent on this miserable ship.

“Ensign Kim?” B’Elanna looked at the clocked figure. This was indeed Ensign Harry Kim, the fact that not even B’Elanna would address him as Harry was just more fuel for the anger that would be overwhelming for any normal person. Harry’s new found skills allowed him to remain in control.

~Go to them, take your weapon,~

His red light saber snap-hissed back to life. Before any of them knew what was happening Harry was charging straight towards the warp core. B’Elanna and the other engineers dived out of the way. Harry leapt into the air, kicked himself further up off the warp core with his left foot, and sliced the plasma coolant valve open.

Before B’Elanna could order the bridge evacuation Harry hit the ground running and leapt out through the engineering main doors. “Computer, seal engineering.” He calmly said in a voice that could freeze a small star.

Harry extinguished the saber and watched as the transparent emergency doors closed, sealing the entire engineering crew in with the plasma coolant that was flooding the entire room. B’Elanna ran to the door and banged her fist against it.
“Ensign! Open the door.” She screamed. “Harry, please!”

The cloud of plasma coolant spread throughout the entire engineering compartment, knocking B’Elanna to her knees. She screamed in agony as the coolant washed over her body, tearing her flesh on contact. In a process that took mere seconds, to the chief engineer it seemed to take an eternity. Wave after wave of indescribable pain washed over her, until finally there was nothing left.

The blood curdling screams from behind the emergency doors eventually faded into silence. Harry turned to face end of the corridor where the turbo lift was, mindful of the next item on the agenda.

“Freeze!” Came a voice from behind him.
Harry ignited his light saber and casually turned around to find three red shirts standing behind him, phaser rifles at the ready.
“Umm, I said freeze, ...sir.” The one in charge trembled.

Harry charged and the three fired their phasers. With one spin and two swings of the saber, Harry effortlessly blocked the attacks and the red shirts’ disarmed (literally) corpses collapsed to the ground in several more pieces then they were in prior to earning the title ‘corpse’.

Harry proceeded into the turbolift and onto the next destination.

Seven and Neelix were trapped in astrometrics. “Wow, this sure is spooky isn’t it Seven? The computer’s not working, and we’re trapped in here, alone.”
“Remain on your side of the room.” Seven responds.

The door slid open and the still cloaked, and somewhat blood stained Harry Kim entered the room.
“Mr Kim!” Neelix hurried over to the Ensign to greet him.
With one swift motion Harry ignited his saber and severed the foul creature’s head, ending its reign of inanity once and for all.

Seven reached for the controls on the. Harry leapt forward and with one overhead swing, he drove the saber half way between her left wrist and elbow. Her forearm dropped to the ground and Seven collapsed against the console, clutching what was left of the limb in a mix of pain and shock. Tears were streaming down her face as she cowered in fear.

Harry extinguished the saber and crouched over her.
“You know something Seven.” He whispered. “You’re about the only person here that hasn’t given me an excuse to turn them inside out.” The smell of Neelix’s corpse was starting to overpower the smell he generated when he was alive.

Harry reached down and touched Seven’s chin, causing her to cringe in fear. Of all her time aboard Voyager, this was the first time she had experienced the sensation of real fear. “Perhaps I’ll come back to you.” He grinned before leaving astrometrics. Any surviving crewmen he could easily mop up at his leisure, perhaps even just by ordering the computer to depressurise all the other decks except the one he was on. However he had one more detail to attend to before his task was finished was finished.

The door to Janeway’s quarters slid open and Harry entered the room, light saber already ignited.
Janeway looked at him. The lower part of his cloak was dripping with blood. The smell of death seemed to follow him in the door. It was obvious what he was there for.
“Ensign Kim.” She said as she stumbled backward. “Uh, Harry.” She corrected herself, calling on her years of built up diplomatic expertise as Harry advanced.
“Yes Admiral?” He smiled.
“My...err, that’s a big light saber you have there...”
“All the better to slice you open with, my dear.” Harry mused, advancing closer and closer.

“Well Harry, I’m afraid it wont be that easy.” Janeway pulls a concealed phaser out from behind her back, aims it at Harry and hits the button. With lightening quick reflexes Harry moves the saber into position and the orange phaser beam is easily blocked. Before Janeway fired a second shot Harry raised his left hand and the phaser flew out of the Admiral’s hand and into Harry’s waiting grasp. Harry grinned, it didn’t take a Jedi to foresee what was going to happen next.

~and strike them down with all of your hatred!~

Without another word Harry leapt at the helpless Admiral. In one swift swing of Harry’s light saber, Janeway was relieved of command. First the blade penetrated her lower intestines, she could feel and smell the saber burning her insides as if they’d been set in fire. There was a brief scream of unimaginable agony, which was suddenly silenced as the blade exited through her shoulder. Both halves of Janeway’s corpse hit the floor of her quarters, various bodily organs spilled out on impact. Blood flowed across the floor in all directions. The smell of burning flesh was combined with the smell of exposed bodily fluids normally concealed within a person’s stomach, intestines, and liver. This was Janeway’s end, no heroic burial, no remorse, no goodbye.

Harry admired his handy work. His master would be most pleased. By completing this task he had certainly earned the title ‘Lord’, a good step up from Ensign on all accounts.

“My Lord,” the computer interrupted, “one of the shuttles has launched. One life form, Borg, has been detected on board.”
“Let her go.” Harry commanded. “I could use a good publicist.”

End of Act 1

To be continued...

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-03 09:06am
Offline
Lord of Irony
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-04 08:36am
Posts: 20909
Quote:
“No need lieutenant. Abra-cadaver,” He said as he plundered the rank insignia from his father’s corpse.

The entire thing is funny as hell but that line made me burst out laughing




"A cult is a religion with no political power." -Tom Wolfe
Pardon me for sounding like a dick, but I'm playing the tiniest violin in the world right now-Dalton

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 01:07am
Offline
Jedi Master
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-16 03:27pm
Posts: 1113
Location: Maine, land of the Laidback
:lol:
I loved the Voyager 'Captains' bit, it reminded me of an old Buck Rodgers episode where Buck and co. find a ship crewed by 6 guys, 5 generals 1 private. The jokes were very similer.



"Nobody ever inferred from the multiple infirmities of Windows that Bill Gates was infinitely benevolent, omniscient, and able to fix everything. " Argument against god's perfection.

My Snow's art portfolio.

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 06:43am
Offline
Commence Primary Ignition
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-03 07:22am
Posts: 11102
Location: Vasa, Finland
Spyder, write more or DIE!

And I want to be in it too!



Those who beat their swords into plowshares will plow for those who did not.

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 07:34am
Offline
Sith Marauder
User avatar

Joined: 2002-09-03 03:23am
Posts: 4453
Location: Wellington, New Zealand
It is coming, I've just been really busy with other projects lately.

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 05:06pm
Offline
Jaina Dax
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-08 05:08am
Posts: 4769
Location: Malmö, Sweden
Spyder wrote:
It is coming, I've just been really busy with other projects lately.


Come on Spyda, you know you need me in your fanfic to make it work.

I'll sweeten the deal. If you include me, I'll... say something nice about the fic. Whaddya say?



"Travelers with closed minds can tell us little except about themselves."
--Chinua Achebe

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 06:21pm
Offline
Sith Marauder
User avatar

Joined: 2002-09-03 03:23am
Posts: 4453
Location: Wellington, New Zealand
Most ASVSers are going to get included sooner or later.

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 06:33pm
Offline
Jedi Master
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-14 11:34am
Posts: 1190
GREAT...

esp. if you know ASVS...

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 06:34pm
Offline
Jaina Dax
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-08 05:08am
Posts: 4769
Location: Malmö, Sweden
Spyder wrote:
Most ASVSers are going to get included sooner or later.


I knew my charm and manipulative powers would work on you. :)



"Travelers with closed minds can tell us little except about themselves."
--Chinua Achebe

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-04 06:55pm
Offline
Commence Primary Ignition
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-03 07:22am
Posts: 11102
Location: Vasa, Finland
Does your powers involve showing some leg?
You perv you...



Those who beat their swords into plowshares will plow for those who did not.

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-05 01:54am
Offline
Jaina Dax
User avatar

Joined: 2002-07-08 05:08am
Posts: 4769
Location: Malmö, Sweden
His Divine Shadow wrote:
Does your powers involve showing some leg?
You perv you...


Nope. Think cleavage.



"Travelers with closed minds can tell us little except about themselves."
--Chinua Achebe

Top
 Profile  
 Post subject:  PostPosted: 2002-09-06 09:57pm
Offline
Padawan Learner

Joined: 2002-07-12 11:10pm
Posts: 193
That was great. Cannot wait for the next installment.

Top
 Profile  
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 13 posts ] 

All times are UTC - 5 hours [ DST ]


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 3 guests


You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Search for:
Jump to:  
Powered by phpBB® Forum Software © phpBB Group