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SHTAR WORZ - Teh EMporer stirkes BAUc

Discussion in 'Imperium OffTopicum' started by Thorvald of Lym, Oct 20, 2013.

  1. Thorvald of Lym

    Thorvald of Lym A Little Sketchy

    Nov 21, 2005
    A Palace north of Oslo
    Sup ma homeyz Th0rv@1dUb3rR0XX0R hear wit hmy SEAUQAL 2 teh GR8EST FNAFIC EVARR!!!!1!

    In the black emptiness, two lines of blue text suddenly appear:

    A short while ago in a galaxy
    you're all familiar with . . . .

    They linger for a while, long enough that the average viewer can re-read them three, maybe four times.

    Then they vanish.

    Alright, this time I'm ready.

    Usually the fanfare that blasts as they play the title card scares me three quarters of the way to a heart attack.

    So this time, I'll mute the sound.

    I can't believe I never thought of this earlier.

    Hey wait, un-pause un-mutes?? That's not fOH SH—



    Dd-la-Da da da DA da da Da da da DA da da
    Da da DA DAAAAA-

    Do Do Do


    Episode I can't believe it's not recession:


    It is a dark time for the
    Rebellion. Although the Doom
    Sphere has been destroyed,
    Imperial troops have abused
    expansion rules to scatter the
    Allied forces across the galaxy.

    Evading the dreaded Imperial
    Starfleet, a group of freedom
    fighters led by Hermann Fegelein
    has established a new secret
    base on the remote ice world
    of the SPORE Forum.

    The evil lord Darth Lackarse,
    obsessed with finding young
    christos200, has dispatched
    thousands of remote probes into
    the far reaches of space . . . .

    -Da da da DA!
    Dd-la-da da da DA- da
    DD-LA-DA dd-la-da DD-LA-DA dd-la-da
    DD-LA-DA dd-la-da DD-LA-da-dladadla-da-dladadla-
    DEE doo doo dee DEE doo doo dee
    DEE doo doo dee DEE doo doo dee

    Hey, hold up; what's this?


    It's a note.


    "If you are reading this message, then my knock-off TARDIS worked and I am now in Bangladesh in the year 2136. A bit of a roundabout way to get those lozenges, but I was hacking like a seal and couldn't wait the week-end—"


    "—I forgot to mention earlier that I borrowed your car last week for an errand and forgot to fill the tank before I got back?!"

    Oh Jeez, and here my sister thought I was pranking her!

    Ben... why didn't you tell me??

    An Imperial Star Destructor floated through the mind-numbing emptiness of deep sp—wait, that's not quite true, I can see some planets or moons or something in the background. A dozen pod-like objects descended from the docking bay and blasted off in separate directions. One of the pods found its way to a bluish-white globe; a red flame streaked through the sky before the intruder slammed into the planet's icy surface, coughing up smoke and debris. As the dust cleared, a robot resembling something from Dr. Eggman rose from the crater; hovering over the ground, it set off across the inhospitable terrain.

    Elsewhere, a figure raced across the icy floes on the back of an Arctic Llama. Mount and rider reached a halt as they crested a snowy dune. The figure pulled off his mask and goggles, gazing across the forbidding horizon. As he looked left, he saw something red streak through the sky and slam into a distant hill. He took a moment to survey the impact with his... hmm, how to describe it? It looks like a set of binoculars, but it only has one lens. Anyway, he brushed off the ice on his wristwatch and dialled in a radio channel.

    "Star Ranger to Naziman," said christos200, "Fegelein old buddy do you read me??"

    "I told you," Fegelein's voice crackled, "Our callsign is 'Echo'. I'm Echo 3, you're Echo 7."

    "Whatever. I finished my circle, i dont pick up any life readings," he reported with clear annoyance.

    "There isn't enough life on this ice cube to host a forum," joked the officer. "Sensors are placed; I'm heading back." In the distance, Chris could see another figure riding off toward the horizon.

    "ok, I'll see you there. Theres a meteorite that hit the ground near here I want to check it out, it wont take long." As Chris took the reins, the llama suddenly grew agitated. "Steady!!" shouted Chris, grabbing its neck, "Steady girl! Whats the matter?? You smell somethig?"

    Chris looked to his right and was greeted by a woolly face with a gaping mouth of sharp teeth. Long claws raked his back, pulling him off the llama before the creature seized it by its throat. Unconscious and bleeding ...er, that snow must've hit his face pretty hard... Chris was dragged away.

    Some time later, Fegelein rode past two sentries and a laser turret guarding the icy maw of the subterranean Resistance base. It was carved out of the outcropping, and although it had a few artificial components to the superstructure most of the interior remained rock-hard snow, requiring personnel to remain bundled up even deep within. He brought the llama to a halt in the middle of the hangar, an aide immediately taking charge as he dismounted. He threw off his hood and pulled off his patrol cap as he strode through the hangar bay, technicians at work on the Allied strike fighters and surface speeders, to the Centurion Raptor, a modified private freighter that he frequently boasted to be the fastest ship in the galaxy. On top of the ship, welding a section of exposed circuitry, was Fegelein's first mate, a werewolf named Arkady. SPORE's frigid climate having triggered his winter coat, he was able to make do with slightly less overdress than the rest of the troops, but even he sported a light winter jacket.

    "Arkady!" called the Obergruppenführer, repeating the address when he failed to respond.

    The werewolf raised his welding mask as he turned to him. "About damn time," he shouted, "It's taken me two hours on this accursed section alone!"

    "Alright," Fegelein raised his hands apologetically, "Don't lose your temper. I'll come right back to give you a hand."

    "Two, if you can spare them," the first mate quipped before resuming repairs.

    Having stored away his overcoat, Fegelein navigated to the cramped base communications room. He made a cursory inspection of the staff, who were analyzing radio signals or plotting co-ordinates on space charts. One of the analysts was C. Aubrey Farnsworth, Esquire, a tall and well-mannered gentleman originally under Chris's patronage but who now functioned as an aide to the Resistance in whatever capacity they needed. Fegelein didn't see from across the room the appraising look of Princess Kaiser, one of the key leaders of the Resistance. She was an Allied senator permanently exiled after the Empire inaugurated their short-lived superweapon on her home forum of Doctor Who. Her hair was braided in an eastern European style that tied a large bun to the back of her head. Like the other staff, she was dressed in a field outercoat. As Fegelein proceeded further into the room, she turned back to the computer console.

    He reached the far corner of the comm room where a stern-faced man with a thick beard was adjusting a set of controls. Noticing the officer's approach, the man straightened up with the simple acknowledgement, "Fegelein."

    "No sign of life out there, General," he reported. "The sensors are in place, so you'll know if anything comes around."

    "Has Commander Christos reported in yet?"

    "No, he's checking out a meteorite that hit near him."

    The general, Stavros, turned back to the controls, picking up a headset and putting one speaker to his far ear as he resumed his calculations. "With all the meteorite activity in this system, it will be difficult to spot approaching ships."

    "General, I'll be taking my leave," Fegelein began abruptly, "I can't stay any longer." Kaiser straightened up, looking over to the two men.

    Stavros turned back to him, brow furrowed with regret. When that Nazi and his misfit companions showed up at their last secret base claiming to have broken the Princess out of the Empire's new battle station, the General had held doubts; but in the months since, any suspicions as to Fegelein's intentions had been dispelled. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said.

    "The price on my head's higher than usual; if I don't pay off Dolfy his goons might show up at your door, too."

    "The Führer's vendetta is not an easy thing to live with," he nodded. With a cordial smile, he extended his hand, which the other man shook. "You're a good fighter, Fegelein; I hate to lose you."

    "Thank you, General."

    Fegelein turned about, noticing Kaiser for the first time. She was once again facing her console, and with deliberate slowness turned her head towards him. Realizing the game, he sauntered over with equal deliberation.

    "Well, Your Highness," he began with a faint grin, "I guess this is it."

    "That's right," she said coolly.

    Fegelein stood silent for a moment, then turned and walked quickly back into the corridors. Soon enough, Kaiser was trailing after him. "Fegelein!" she called, and he turned about.

    "Yes, Your Highnessness?" he asked with mock innocence.

    She drew level with him. In a quiet voice, she asked: "I thought you had decided to stay?"

    "Well, the bounty hunter we ran into in Argentina changed my mind."

    "Fegelein, we need you!"

    The officer paused for a moment. "'We' need?"


    He contorted his face in mock confusion. "Well, what about you need?"

    "I need?" she replied in genuine puzzlement. "I don't know what you're talking about," she sighed nonchalantly.

    He made a 'tsk', flashing a crooked grin. "I'm sure you don't." He spun about and marched down the hall.

    "And what precisely am I supposed to know?" she called after him, jogging to catch up.

    "Come now," he explained matter-of-factly, "You want me to stay because you're attracted to me."

    "Yes! You're a great help to us! You're a natural leader!"

    "Noooo," he teased, bringing them to a halt. "Come on," he pointed to his mouth. The two backed up as an Allied soldier passed through, either oblivious or purposely keeping his head down. "A-a-ah?" he continued, leaning forward. "Come on..!" Another soldier slipped behind him, heading in the opposite direction.

    "You're imagining things," scoffed the Princess.

    "Am I?" he pressed, "Then why are you following me? Afraid I was going to leave without giving you a goodbye kiss?"

    "I'd just as soon kiss a werewolf," she shot back, defiant.

    "I can arrange that," he grinned, jabbing a thumb down the hall. "If you'll follow me..." Fegelein continued on. Kaiser stared angrily after him, then turned around to see a soldier heading into one of the side rooms. He raised his hands in surrender.

    Elsewhere in the corridor, Farnsworth had retired from his analytical duties and was in conversation with his inseparable companion Jenkins, a short, stocky, but equally distinguished man who, for reasons known only to himself, communicated exclusively via slide whistle. "Don't try to blame me," quipped Farnsworth, "I didn't ask you to turn on the heater! I merely commented that it was freezing in the Princess's chamber!" Jenkins uttered a squawkish response. "But it's supposed to be freezing!" he retorted. "How we're going to dry off all those clothes I really don't know..."

    The gentlemen entered into the hangar not far from the Raptor. Arkady and Fegelein were underneath, seemingly in the midst of an argument. "I tell you we're leaving—"

    "Da, no—"

    "The hydraulics weren't damaged—"

    "Da, no—"

    "So you pulled apart the struts—"

    "Da, if I could just—"

    "Excuse me, sir," Farnsworth called, shuffling forward.

    "—Put them back together right now!"

    "Might I have a word with you, please?"

    Sighing, Fegelein straightened up. "What's up?"

    "Well, it's Princess Kaiser, sir. She's been trying to reach you on the communicator."

    "I turned it off; she knows where to find me."

    "Oh, well..." The gentleman retracted a bit, befuddled. "Princess Kaiser is wondering about Master Christos. He hasn't come back yet. She doesn't know where she is."

    "I don't know where he is," he shrugged.

    "Nobody knows where he is," Farnsworth stated matter-of-factly.

    Fegelein frowned. "What do you mean, 'nobody knows'?"

    "Well, you see—"

    But before he could finish, Fegelein broke away out into the hangar. "Deck officer? Deck officer!"

    "Yessir?" a thirtysomething soldier called, jogging over.

    "Do you know where Commander Christos is?"

    "I haven't seen him... It's possible he came in through the south entrance."

    "It's possible?" he parroted, "Why don't you go find out? It's getting dark out there."

    "Yessir." The man gave a quick nod and headed off. Fegelein turned back to Farnsworth.

    "Excuse me, sir; might I inquire as to what's going on?"

    "The more the merrier," he replied, patting Farnsworth on the back before taking off.

    The gentleman sighed before turning to his compatriot. "Come along, Jenkins, let's find Princess Kaiser. Between ourselves, I think Master Christos is in considerable danger."

    Fegelein made his way to the llama pens just as the deck officer returned from the south entrance. "Sir, Commander Christos hasn't come in the south entrance. He might have forgotten to check in," he offered.

    "Not unless he was hauling contraband," mused the Obergruppenführer, "And this planet's not exactly a trade hub. Are the speeders ready?"

    "Uh, not yet, we're having some trouble adapting them to the cold."

    "Then we'll have to go out on llamas," he stated, slipping past the personnel that had gathered around them.

    "Sir, the temperature's dropping too rapidly!" the deck officer protested.

    "That's right," said Fegelein, "And my colleague's out in it."

    "I'll cover sector 12," called an assistant officer, "Have comm-control set screen alpha."

    "Are we just making up terminology now?" shouted a soldier.

    Fegelein found a sturdy-looking llama and swung up onto its back. "Your llama will freeze before you reach the first marker!" the deck officer protested.

    "Then I'll see you in Hell!" He spurred the llama on with a "Hiya!"

    A foggy dusk descended over the frigid hills. Somewhere in an icy cave, Chris was suspended upside-down, near the skeletal remains of what was presumably his captor's previous meal. A bestial holler woke him from his induced sleep. Taking stock of the situation, he reached up to free himself, only to find his feet were frozen into the ceiling. Exhausted, he fell back down, at which point he spied his plasma foil a little ways off. He jerked his head as he heard another howl from deep in the cave. He tried to reach his weapon, but it was a good three to four feet away. He balled his hands into fists, screwing his eyes shut in frustration. Then, suddenly, he had an idea: the Farce!

    Trying to calm his young and presently anxious mind, he extended his hand again, this time reaching out with his sense of mise-en-scène, tapping into the latent comedy of the universe. Almost imperceptibly, the plasma foil began to move! But something else was moving further in the cave; something large and woolly. The foil lurched once, twice, then sprung from the snow and right into Chris' face. Too much Farce, he groaned, picking it up off the ground and igniting the blade. Swinging himself forward, he sliced at the ice binding his feet. Chris fell to the floor, picking himself up just as he registered a new presence. The creature's face was in shadow, but even beneath its fur he could see the exaggerated muscle definition, its arms extended toward him, with long, razor claws. He knew instantly that he was face-to-face with a Turk.

    Panicking, Chris lashed out as the creature bore down on him, slicing off one of its arms. The creature roared in pain as Chris hastily made his retreat, climbing out into the howling wind of a SPORE evening. He ran as fast as he could through the ankle-deep snow, only to catch himself on a ledge and tumble down the slope. Hastily picking himself up, he trudged on across a featureless expanse of snow. Elsewhere, Fegelein paused for a moment, briefly raising his snow-caked goggles to peer across the forbidding landscape.

    Back at the base, Jenkins stood at the mouth of the cave, slowly sweeping a device resembling a parabolic microphone from left to right. He made a series of short chirrups on his slide whistle. Farnsworth made his way over.

    "You must come along now, Jenkins!" the taller man implored, "There's really nothing more we can do. And my limbs are freezing up!" Jenkins gave a trill in reply. "Don't say things like that!" exclaimed Farnsworth, turning in to the base, "Of course we'll see Master Christos again!" Jenkins blew a sombre note. "And he'll be quite alright! You'll see!" called Farnsworth. "He'll be quite alright," he muttered to himself with considerably less confidence.

    Chris collapsed, panting. After a moment and with considerable effort, he rolled himself forward and onto his feet, stumbling through the snow as he tried to reaffix his scarf over his face. Giving up, he suddenly fell forward. Elsewhere, Fegelein entered out onto a vast expanse of flat land. He dismounted a drowsy-looking llama and stepped forward a few metres, brandishing a gadget with two long antennae, sweeping the area for anything that might register a biological signal.

    Meanwhile in the base hangar, a squad lieutenant jogged over to his commanding officer. "Sir, all the patrols are in. Still no—" The superior raised his hand, motioning to where Princess Kaiser was walking slow circles beneath a strike fighter. In a low voice, he continued: "Still no contact from Christos or Fegelein."

    At that moment, Farnsworth and Jenkins arrived. "Princess Kaiser, Jenkins says he's been quite unable to pick up any signals, although he does admit that his own range is far too weak to abandon all hope—"

    The two soldiers joined them. "Your Highness," began the senior officer, "There's nothing more we can do tonight. The shield doors must be closed." Silently, the Princess nodded. "Close the doors."

    "Yes, sir," replied the lieutenant. A little ways off, Arkady rested his forehead against a structural beam.

    Jenkins made a little whistle. "Jenkins says the chances of survival are 725... to 1." There was a low hum as the heavy hangar doors began to slide shut. Kaiser looked on with the expression of someone witnessing the final stages of a public execution. When the doors slammed shut, Arkady tipped his head back with an anguished cry. For all Fegelein's reputation, he couldn't see how the Master of Antics would overcome this time.

    "Actually," Farnsworth added in an attempt at conciliation, "Jenkins has been known to make mistakes..." He slowly backed away. "From time to time." With leaden feet, the Princess headed back to the base interior. "Oh dear, oh dear..." the gentleman muttered. Jenkins let out another low note. "Don't worry about Master Christos," said his colleague, putting a hand to his shoulder, "I'm sure he'll be alright. He's quite clever, you know! For a Greek." Arkady replaced his forehead against the beam, weeping softly.

    Out in the field, Chris lay sprawled in the snow, a thin dusting overtop indicating he had been this way for some time. His thoughts of silent death were interrupted by an ethereal voice. "Chris," it called. Slowly, agonizingly, Chris lifted his head. "Chris!" repeated the voice. Ahead of him stood a translucent figure. Chris stared in disbelief at a bearded elder man clothed in a long brown robe.

    "Ali-G???" Chris asked incredulously. Alec Guinness, his mentor in the Farce, had been cut down by Darth Lackarse during their adventure on the Doom Sphere; how could he have survived?

    "You will go to the Deewhyoh System," Alec Guinness began, straight to the point.

    "Deewhyoh System," Chris repeated.

    "There you will learn from Thorvald, the Cheddar Master who instructed me."

    "Ali-G!!!" Chris cried, reaching out as the vision began to fade, replaced by an oncoming Arctic Llama and its rider. Utterly spent, Chris collapsed.

    "Chris!" called Fegelein, rushing over. "Chris?!" He rolled the unconscious boy onto his back. "Don't do this, Chris," he groaned, "C'mon, give me a sign here." He leaned in forward to check for a pulse. A sudden cry from the llama called his attention. With a strange gargling noise, it keeled over sideways, succumbed to the cold. Fegelein sighed, looking first to Chris, then back to the llama. Then he had an idea.

    The officer dragged Chris over to the fallen mount. "Not much time," he muttered.

    "Ali-G!!! Ali-G..." Chris moaned, semi-conscious. Fegelein retrieved Chris' plasma foil and engaged the blade. With a deft cut, he made an incision across the llama's belly, exposing its fatty insulation.

    "Hang on, kid."

    "Deewhyoh System... Deewhyoh..."

    "This may smell bad, kid," Fegelein began as he manoeuvred the delirious boy into the protective warmth of the llama.

    "Tho... Thorvald..."

    "But it'll keep you warm, until I get the shelter up."


    "Ah!" he sighed, leaning against the corpse, "And I thought you were chatty..." he gasped for breath, "When you weren't drunk!" Slowly picking himself up, he retrieved his field tools and set to work building an igloo in the rapidly fading light.

  2. Double A

    Double A ♫We got the guillotine♫

    Aug 22, 2009
    This is of best, 10/10, would into space.
    Thorvald of Lym likes this.
  3. Tani Coyote

    Tani Coyote Son of Huehuecoyotl

    May 28, 2007
    Well that was... that was a thing, to say the least.

    I must admit I would have splattered any drink I would have been having at the cave scene.

    I guess you can chalk me down as waiting for a sequel... :p
  4. WhiteRobber

    WhiteRobber Twinkle twinkle Wunderbar

    Jun 16, 2013
    There be souls of gophers
    No me in it? No Master Chesteryoda? booo 9/10
    Thorvald of Lym likes this.
  5. Sonereal

    Sonereal ♫We got the guillotine♫ Supporter

    Mar 31, 2008
  6. Thorvald of Lym

    Thorvald of Lym A Little Sketchy

    Nov 21, 2005
    A Palace north of Oslo
    Oh, that's right, you weren't on Tani's board.

    And here I was gonna slate you down for Lando... :mischief:

    Aye, that scene always gave me the creeps. The re-releases totally butchered the tension.

    You're the newest of the New Guard. You'll have to wait for the prequels. :p
  7. GenMarshall

    GenMarshall Night Elven Ghost Agent

    Jun 17, 2002
    New Suramar City, Vekta, United Terran Systems
    Teh crap...

    ...did I just read?​
  8. WhiteRobber

    WhiteRobber Twinkle twinkle Wunderbar

    Jun 16, 2013
    There be souls of gophers
    What has been read cannot be unread.
  9. Thorvald of Lym

    Thorvald of Lym A Little Sketchy

    Nov 21, 2005
    A Palace north of Oslo
    Et tu, CG? As I recall you loved the first one...
  10. GenMarshall

    GenMarshall Night Elven Ghost Agent

    Jun 17, 2002
    New Suramar City, Vekta, United Terran Systems
    Working the grave shift does weird things to the brain :p.
  11. hoplitejoe

    hoplitejoe Top fun-poster

    Mar 22, 2010
    Thorvald of Lym likes this.
  12. Double A

    Double A ♫We got the guillotine♫

    Aug 22, 2009
    Thorvald of Lym likes this.
  13. christos200

    christos200 Never tell me the odds

    Jan 9, 2011
    EU, Greece, Athens
    Thorvald of Lym likes this.
  14. Robert Can't

    Robert Can't Éponine

    Dec 7, 2007
    The Barricade
  15. GenMarshall

    GenMarshall Night Elven Ghost Agent

    Jun 17, 2002
    New Suramar City, Vekta, United Terran Systems
    You do know he's lampooning of you, right? :huh:
  16. Thorvald of Lym

    Thorvald of Lym A Little Sketchy

    Nov 21, 2005
    A Palace north of Oslo
    So, turns out that Tani's forum gave 60K characters per post while CFC only grants 30. As I forgot my usual average on these chapters is 15K, you get a double episode!

    Over the snow-encrusted outcroppings glided four hoverspeeders, small yet agile strike craft equally suited to deserts hot or cold. As they entered a valley, hazy from the blowing snow, they broke off in separate directions. "Echo Base," called one pilot as he zoomed into a vast stretch of icy dunes, "I've got something. Not much, but it could be a life form." Banking left, the speeder clung to a rocky embankment as the pilot recalibrated his radio.

    "Commander Christos, do you copy? This is Rogue 2. This is Rogue 2." He sailed over a hill, levelling out over a rough plain. "Gruppenführer Fegelein, do you copy?" Reaching the end of the depression the speeder pitched backward, sailing into the frigid SPORE sky. "Commander Christos," he repeated, "Do you copy? This is Rogue 2."

    The radio warbled and a smooth voice penetrated the cabin "Good morning!" called Fegelein, "Our hot chocolate’s late; don’t expect a tip!"

    "Echo Base, this is Rogue Two," the pilot reported, beaming, "I've found them, repeat, I've found them!"

    Fegelein gave a wave as the speeder flew past his makeshift igloo and Schneeführer.

    About ten minutes later the speeder returned to the base with the adventurers aboard. Chris was taken to the medical bay where he was put into a rejuvenation tank, a most ingenious contraption that could repair physical damage in anything from a few minutes to a few hours. Woe betide the day the Empire got its hands on such technology, its callous disregard for human life sending the poor conscripts back to the front the moment they were patched up, an unending wave tactic that would turn even a remote border skirmish into a mini-Holocaust...

    But I digress.

    After his swim, Chris was dressed in a bathrobe and placed in a bed to recuperate. "Master Christos, sir," bubbled Farnsworth, "It's so good to see you fully-functional again!"


    There was a chirrup as Jenkins joined the posse. "Jenkins expresses his relief, also."

    "How you feeling, kid?" called Fegelein. "You don't look so bad to me."

    "'Sides, beauty's on the inside," muttered Arkady with a crooked grin.

    "He looks strong enough to tear the wings off a gadfly."

    "yeah, I can take on any soviet rebels!!!"

    Fegelein leaned in closer, brandishing thumb and index finger. "That's two you owe me, Junior." The trio chuckled, albeit for different reasons. Fegelein turned about to Princess Kaiser, who stood at the other side of the room, arms crossed. "Well, Your Worship, it looks like you managed to keep me around for a little while longer..."

    Caching his look, she straightened up. "I had nothing to do with it," she grinned mirthlessly. "General Stavros thinks it's dangerous for any user to leave the forum until we've activated the ROM field."

    "It's a good story," the officer nodded. "I think you just can't bear to let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight." Behind him, Chris scowled.

    "I don't know where you get your delusions, Luger-for-brains."

    Arkady did a terrible job of disguising his snort as a cough. Fegelein turned, slowly and deliberately, to face him. "Laugh it up, fuzz-ball," he smirked, striding over to Kaiser and putting his arm about her shoulder. "You didn't see us alone in the south passage..! There, she expressed her true feelings for me."

    "What?" she shot back, throwing off his arm. Chris perked up as his romantic rival's salient was repulsed. "Why you stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking... Nazi!"

    He gave a look of mock injury. "Who's scruffy-looking?" Jenkins gave a low trill as Fegelein returned to Chris' side. "Must've hit pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh kid?" The boy desperately tried to contain his excitement.

    Nodding her head with that 'I-know-how-this-game-works' air, she strode over and all but pushed Fegelein aside. "I guess you don't know everything about women yet," she said, then grabbed Chris' head and pulled him into a deep kiss. Everyone but Fegelein watched in amazement, Farnsworth casting nervous glances to the Obergruppenfüher. Deed done, the princess grinned at Fegelein.

    At that very moment, "Headquarters personnel, report to command centre" buzzed through the station's PA system. Kaiser swiftly departed.

    If Chris' smile had been any wider, he could've played the Cheshire Cat. "I hate to say it, sir," muttered the werewolf, "But your girl's tastes might not be as discriminating as you thought."

    Fegelein shot Arkady a look. The intercom message repeated. "Take it easy," he muttered to Chris, before spinning about and marching after the princess, followed swiftly by his first mate.

    "Excuse us, please," said Farnsworth, before he too trailed after them, accompanied by Jenkins.

    Chris, still lost in his daydream, was oblivious to all of it.


    "Princess!" called Stavros, "We have a visitor." Kaiser, Fegelein and their entourage gathered around a table in the communications room where the general and an intel officer were examining a computer console. "We've picked up something outside the base at Zone 12, moving east."

    "Signature indicates metal construction," added the officer.

    "Then it's not one of those creatures," surmised the princess.

    "Not one of our speeders?" asked Fegelein.

    "No," replied the officer. "Wait—I'm getting a faint signal." He pressed a button and a repeating pattern of daktaklakpak, somewhat muffled by static, echoed through the room. The party frowned, pensive.

    "Sir," Farnsworth spoke up, "I am fluent in six million programming languages—" behind him and officer spat out his coffee "—and this signal is not used by the Alliance. It could be an Imperial code."

    The officer recalibrated his instruments for a clearer transmission as the group listened with knitted brows. "It isn't friendly, whatever it is," Fegelein declared. "C'mon, Arkady, let's check it out."

    "Sir," he nodded to the general before following the Obergruppenführer from the room.

    "Send Rogues 10 and 11 to Station 3-8," Stavros ordered, before heading off in the opposite direction.

    Out in in the field, the probe had completed its survey of the Allied shield generator complex and sped on. Fegelein watched it approach from a rocky outcropping. "Hey, beautiful!" shouted Arkady, popping up from the opposite side. A klaxon wailed as the probe pivoted, shooting off a salvo of lazors as the werewolf dove for cover. Taking his cue, the Obergruppenführer levelled his Walther and loosed a shot before dropping down as the craft retaliated. He made another shot and it exploded in a fireball, sending him back down as shrapnel rained all about. "Chinese crap!" shouted Arkady; Fegelein frowned.

    "Afraid there's not much left," he reported to headquarters.

    "What was it?" asked Kaiser.

    "Robot of some kind. I didn't hit it that hard; it must've had a self-destruct."

    Stavros and a number of officers crowded around as Kaiser brought up a schematic on her console. "An Imperial Probenik," she declared.

    "Ready or not, the Empire knows we're here."

    "Begin the evacuation," ordered Stavros.


    A veritable swarm of Star Destructors were idling about in an empty region of space, while a throng of Kite Flyers buzzed about like a swarm of angry bees, but completely devoid of any spatial awareness. It's... so horrifying, yet I can't look away... Anyway, they—wait, what in the hell? There's a massive shadow falling overtop that one.

    Sweet Mother Mary.

    I mean...


    OK, picture an arrowhead, load it up with laser guns, and then inflate it to the size of Australia. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the Empire's latest quest to drive aerospace engineers to suicide. I mean, Jesus, I can't imagine what sort of mileage you're gonna get on that thing. And braking? I thought my car handled like a cow...

    Scratch my earlier comment. This is the majestic abomination.

    Darth Lackarse must've been thinking the same thing as he stood on the bridge of that monster, gazing out into the void. But we'll leave this existential architectural quandary to him for the time being. Elsewhere aboard the ship, a man whose face resembled the unholy child of Hitler and Stalin was walking in tandem with a tall blonde woman with a Joan-of-Arc haircut and hard-set features. "Admiral," called an officer, and the first figure turned.

    "'Sup, brah?" he said, making his way over.

    The officer in question was Tyo Parkins. Miraculously, he had survived first his X-wing's destruction and then the explosion of the Doom Sphere and was picked up by Imperial search-and-rescue. Having bought his claim that he had been a mole in the Resistance, they freshly suited him up, and next thing he knew he was Captain aboard this spacefaring leviathan. On the one hand, he was still on a ship. On the other, he wasn't commanding anything. "I think we've got something," he said. "It's only a fragment, from a probe in the SPORE Forum, but it's the best lead we've had."

    "Your mom is the best lead we've had!" boomed the admiral, pausing for the laughter that never came. "We have billions of these little bastards combing teh Intarwebz. I want proof, not leads!"

    Overhearing the argument, Lackarse turned from the windows and strode over. "Visuals indicate life readings," Tyo pressed.

    "Yeah, and so does FurAffinity. If we went to every niche porn site—"

    "But sir, SPORE is supposed to be devoid of human forms!"

    "YOU FOUND SOMETHING?" The admiral gave a start as Lackarse joined the circle.

    "Yes, milord," Tyo inhaled, glad that someone had his back on this. He turned to the officer sitting at a computer console displaying video recording of what looked like a set of turbines half-buried in the snow.

    "THAT'S IT," Lackarse declared, "THE REBELS ARE THERE."

    The admiral forced a smile. "Darth L., buddy, there are so many uncharted settlements... It could be liberals, it could be—"


    Editor's note: One of the reasons the Empire knows Chris’ identity is because he wouldn’t shut up about how he "kicked [their] ass" and blew up the Doom Sphere on every available social media channel.

    "SET YOUR COURSE FOR THE SPORE FORUM. GENERAL SNEERS," he turned to the woman, nearly smashing his mask into her face she was standing so close, "PREPARE YOUR MEN." He carefully sidestepped the officer before moving on.

    "Admiral," nodded the general, with a knowing smirk. Eye slightly twitching, he nodded back, and she departed after the Dork Lord. He frowned at Tyo, came up alongside him, made to speak, then with another scowl left himself. Tyo watched him go with a mix of confusion, and pity.

    Back on SPORE, the Resistance was preparing for battle. "Groups 7 and 10 will stay behind to fly the speeders," a field officer briefed his subordinates; one of the men nodded in affirmation and departed. "As soon as each transport is loaded, Evacuation Control will give clearance for immediate launch."

    "Right, sir," replied the second, before both moved on.

    Fegelein, meanwhile, was atop the Raptor, welding circuitry while Arkady sat in the cockpit to test flight systems. "Alright," he shouted, straightening up, "That's it! Try it!" Arkady flipped an overhead switch, and the exposed panel abruptly burst into flames.

    "Chyort!" barked the first mate, before punching panels as he tried to cut the power.

    In the medical ward, Chris was zipping up a bright orange flight suit. "Mein Herr," advised the Medic, "I must advise against strenuous activity until you have made a complete recovery."

    "Thats alright, i once took on the whole world in IOT9!"

    "And did you win?"

    Chris said nothing, snatching his jacket from the closet and marching straight out of the room.

    "Take care, Mein Herr," the Medic muttered as he left.

    Chris ran through the hangar to where Arkady was working on an underside panel. "Arkady?" called Chris.

    "Da?" he turned to the boy.

    "Take care of yourself ok??" He reached up to squeeze the werewolf's shoulder.

    "Hey! NO! Bad touch!!" he shouted, leaping backwards.

    "Hi, kid," called Fegelein from up top, before turning to a gentleman with him on the roof, saying "There has to be a reason; go check it at the other end. –Wait a second." He turned back to the boy. "You alright?"


    Fegelein stared for a moment, reconsidering the phrasing of his query. Mistaking the gaze for empathy, Chris grinned apologetically before heading off. "Be careful," called the officer.

    "You to!"

    Arkady looked to Chris' retreating back, then to Fegelein, a quizzical expression on his face.

    "Kid owes me twenty bucks," he shrugged.

    In the comm room, Stavros approached an officer working the early warning relay. "General, there's a fleet of Star Destructors coming out of hyperspace in Sector 4," he reported.

    "Idiots," he muttered. "Re-route all power to the ROM shield." He straightened up, turning to another staffer. "We need to hold the base until all transports are away. Prepare for ground assault."

    Above the forum, the Imperial fleet approached, headed by that black hole of at least half the world's collective GDP. Onboard the flagship, a contraption resembling a twenty-sided die split apart, revealing Darth Lackarse in the centre. Standing before the cubicle was General Sneers. "WHAT IS IT, GENERAL?"

    "My Lord, the fleet has moved out of light speed. Comm-Scan has detected a Read-Only Memory field—"

    Before she had even finished speaking, the geodesic dome descended shut. Sneers blinked. Just as quickly, the dome reopened. She cleared her throat and began again: "Comm-Scan has detected a Read-Only Memory field protecting the—"

    Again the dome closed, cutting her off. She took a deep breath. A couple of seconds later the dome reopened. She opened her mouth—only for it to immediately shut again. Sneers gritted her teeth. The dome opened—

    —and shut before it had even started. It start-stopped once, twice more, then opened and stayed open.

    Lackarse stared at Sneers.

    Sneers stared at Lackarse.

    Lackarse stared back at Sneers.

    Sneers took a sharp breath. "Comm-Scan has detected a R—OH FOR EFF'S SAKE!!" she barked as the dome snapped shut. She was about to turn to leave when the dome reopened; with a stealthy growl, she snapped forward. "Are you finished, My Lord?" she asked, faux-sweetly.

    "FOR NOW."

    Sneers rolled her head left and right as she took another breath. "Comm-Scan has detected a Read-Only Memory field protecting an area on the sixth planet of the SPORE Forum. The field is strong enough to deflect any editing."


    "...He felt surprise was wiser—" the general started.


    "Yes, My Lord." Sneers gave a short bow and departed as Lackarse spun his chair about, activating a vidscreen behind P_F and Tyo. The captain noticed and tapped him on the shoulder.

    "The hell, man?" he snapped. Tyo turned to face the screen, P_F following suit when he registered what was going on. "G'day, Lacky!" he grinned, strategically positioning himself in front of the captain, "The fleet's moved out of light speed, and we're ready to—"

    "POP QUIZ," Lackarse interrupted, "WHAT BEGINS WITH 'COME HERE' AND ENDS WITH 'OW'?"

    P_F frowned, looked to Tyo, who shook his head. He shrugged.

    "COME HERE."

    P_F started forward, and Lackarse headbutted him through the screen, sending him to the floor with an "OOUF!"

    "CAPTAIN PARKINS," called Lackarse.

    "Yes, milord?" he asked, stepping forward.


    Tyo's face went white. Swallowing hard, he managed to stutter "Th-Thank you, L-Lord Lackarse."
  17. Thorvald of Lym

    Thorvald of Lym A Little Sketchy

    Nov 21, 2005
    A Palace north of Oslo
    Back at the base, Chris and another pilot rushed through the hangar bay to where Princess Kaiser was briefing the squadron. "All troop carriers will assemble at the north entrance. The heavy transport ships will leave as soon as they're loaded. Only two escort fighters per ship. The ROM field can only be opened for a short time, so you'll have to keep tight to your transports."

    "Two fighters against a Star Destructor?" chortled one of the pilots, "I thought I was fighting for the Resistance!"

    "The Imperial fleet has been spread thin to cover the entire forum, meaning our Ion Cannon will only need a few shots to clear you a flight path," she explained. "Once you're clear of the ROM field, proceed directly to the rendez-vous point. Understood?" The group nodded in affirmation. "Good luck."

    "'Kay!" called the deck officer, "Everybody to your stations! Let's go!"

    Out on the surface, ground soldiers surveyed the desolate expanse before them. They were stationed at a series of trenches and fortified turrets ahead of the base, positioned at the valley chokepoint. The line was closer to the entrance than they would have liked, but it was the only place they could funnel incoming forces for a focused defence. Inside the control room, General Stavros and Princess Kaiser observed the radio maps of the surrounding airspace as the first convoy prepared to depart. "Their primary target will be the power generators," the general surmised. Turning to a control officer, he ordered: "Prepare to deactivate ROM."

    As a transport and its X-wing escort entered the upper atmosphere, a Star Destructor bore down on the sector. "Sir!" called an officer, "Rebel ships are coming into our sector!"

    "Good," replied his commander, "I'll beat Czarnecki to the First Blood achievement!"

    "Stand by, Ion Control", called a comm officer. "...Fire." Outside the base, an omnidirectional turret emplacement fired a short burst of particle projectiles that sailed danger close past the convoy and impacted across the Imperial ship. It sparkled like a Christmas tree as its main power network failed, falling out of orbit while the convoy flew by and jumped to hyperspace.

    "The first transport is away," called the intercom, prompting a round of cheers from the scrambling pilots.

    "feeling alright sir?" asked ceaser1345, a young and headstrong pilot not unlike Chris, who was serving as rear gunner in his hoverspeeder.

    "just like new ceaser," he replied, clambering aboard, "How about you?"

    "right now i feel like i can take on the whole empire myself!"

    "yeah, in IOT14 I declared war on the whole UN!!!"

    "sweet! did you win??"

    Chris said nothing, pulling down the canopy as the speeder rose into the air.

    Out on the field, small dark specks emerged from the snow-blown horizon. Soldiers jumped down into the forward trenches, readying their weapons. An officer steadied his... I think I'll call 'em cyclopculars, y'know, like a cyclops. Anyway, coming into focus was what looked like a giant animal's foot, but made entirely of metal. He trailed his vision upward and the full figure came into view. "Aw crap," he groaned. It was a giant mecha-like construction in the shape of an anthropomorphized lynx. Despite its obvious combat design, the cockpit had an unmistakably cartoony appearance. Mounted at the lower torso just above the leg joints was a giant lazor cannon. As the officer zoomed out, he made out three more around it, modelled after a wolf, a fox, and a hedgehog. Even at over two kilometres' distance, the troops could feel the tremors as the machines lumbered toward them. "Echo Station 3-T-8," the officer radioed in, "We have spotted Imperial FUR Suits."

    "Imperial FUR Suits on the North Ridge," buzzed the intercom. Dull thuds reverberated through the base, and bits of ice fell on Jenkins' head as he wandered the halls.

    Suddenly, the orchestra broke into a tense overture as the hoverspeeders deployed from the hangar. As the FUR Suits closed distance with the front line, they opened up a barrage of lazor fire. "Echo station 5-7, were on our way!!" shouted Chris. The squadron sailed over the trenches and into the valley, dodging the oncoming fire of the Imperial walkers. "Alright boys keep tight now!!" he ordered.

    "chris i have no approch vector!!" shouted ceaser, "im not set!!"

    "Steady ceaser!!" he retorted. "Attack pattern Storm!! GO NOW!!!" The speeders opened up on the mechas as they sped by straight-on, then banked up to strafe from the side. "Alright i'm coming in!!!" Chris squeezed the trigger as he sailed past and between the legs of the hedgehog, nearly clipping a fellow speeder as he raked fire across the wolf. "Hobbie you still with me??" he called as he pulled up.

    "I told you before, you are to address me as Mr. Hobbes," growled the pilot, absent-mindedly running a gloved hand through his lustrous beard.

    The walkers continued their assault on the front as the speeders kept up their strafing, but seemingly to no effect. The lynx pivoted its pelvis and delivered a shot into the back of an oncoming speeder, sending it to the ground in a fiery streak. From within the cockpit, General Sneers, dressed in winterized combat armour that looked like a Wehrmacht interpretation of our second nod to Black Helmet from Spaceballs, held a commanding view of the carnage. Despite first blood, her face was contorted in a barely-suppressed revulsion. "I feel so dirty in these things," she muttered.

    "That armors to strong for blasters!!!" Chris realized after the umpteenth pass.

    "what are we gonna do???" screamed ceaser.

    Chris thought. What had Star Wars taught him about improvised tactics? "I know!! Rouge group, use your harpoons and tow cables go for the legs!!!"

    "Sir, those things are like, 80 feet high and can stride past a football field in a single step!" a pilot protested, "Tow cables won't do jack s—"

    "Just do what i tell you!!" Chris snapped. "Stand by ceaser."

    "chris weve got a problem with fire control! ill haveto cut in the auxilery!"

    "whatever," he said, wincing as a lazor blast lit up the cabin. "just get ready to fire that cable!!"

    There was a blast, a sizzle, and an "AAGH!". "ceaser? ceaser!!" shouted chris, banking left as he tried to see his co-pilot. His head was bowed and the console was crackling. Breathing heavily, Chris faced forward. Always gotta do this myself.

    The mechas' barrage was keeping the infantry well-pinned, and even their turrets were unable to damage the oncoming furversion. A holo-projector in the lynx's cockpit displayed the figure of Darth Lackarse, hands on hips in what Sneers thought might actually be nonchalance. "Yes, Lord Lackarse," she was saying, "I've reached the main power generators. The shield will be down in moments. You may start your landing." As the figure faded, the general pulled down a periscope to take direct command of the main cannon, wincing as she realized too late the perspective that entailed.

    "Rouge 3!" called Chris.

    "It's Rogue," groaned Omega124, the Resistance's hunk-a-licious prodigy pilot that would surely get his own spin-off series, he was so good, "R-O-G-U—"

    "Ive lost my gunner youll have to take the shot!!"

    "Figures," he muttered to himself, sailing over the smoky battlefield and scrambling ground troops.

    "Ill ocver for you!! Set your harpoon follow me on the next pass!!"

    "Dammit, why do we keep running at them head-on?!"

    "Steady Rouge 2!!" Chris sailed between the wolf's legs.

    "Fire harpoon!" Omega's gunner pressed a trigger and a long spear shot into the wolf's heel, a thick cable trailing behind. "Good shot, Hassan!" Omega deployed smooth jazz as he began circling around the mecha's legs, drawing the bindings tighter. "One more pass..."

    "Coming around," the gunner briefed the wing, "Once more..." As the speeder completed another circle, the cord began to draw taut. "Cable out... Loose!"

    "Detach cable!"

    Hassan pressed another button and the cable broke off as they sailed into the sky. "Cable detached!"

    As the FUR Suit raised its leg, it caught on the wire. Without enough momentum to break it and too little space to correct, the mecha tipped off-balance and began to fall forward. Its massive cannon sprung upwards as it struck the ground, snapping from the force of the impact and delivering a blast straight into the cabin. There were cheers, as well as a few snickers, from the Allied soldiers. "C'mon!" shouted an officer, and a squad broke cover to search the wreckage for survivors.

    "Woo-ah!" shouted Omega, "I can't believe that worked!"

    On the one hand, Chris' crazy plan actually worked. On the other, ceaser had to go and get himself killed, denying him the kill. "I see it megs good work."

    "For the last time..!"

    Meanwhile, in the comm room, Stavros picked his way over to Kaiser. "The fleet's closing formation. I don't think we can protect two transports at a time."

    "It's risky," she admitted, "But we can't hold out much longer." There was an explosion above that rocked the display screens. "We have no choice."

    The general nodded, pulling up his radio. "Launch patrols."

    "Evacuate remaining ground staff," ordered the Princess to an aide.

    Over in the hangar, Fegelein and Arkady were still trying to get the Raptor space-worthy. "Coupling E connects to the female joint, right?" called the first mate.

    "No! No..." Fegelein dashed over. "This one goes there, that one goes there. Right?"

    "Uh, da."

    "Jenkins?" called Farnsworth as his compatriot clambered aboard an X-wing, "You take good care of Master Christos, now, understand?" Jenkins made a little whistle. "And... do take good care of yourself..?" The man gave a cheeky chirrup. Farnsworth gave a nervous smile before proceeding on.

    Back on the field, the remaining mechas had closed the distance, and smaller walkers, resembling small horses, had appeared to assist. The Allied line began to falter under the onslaught. "All troops will—" Sneers shook her head, then realized that the soldier standing next to her wasn't from the Ku Klux Klan. "...Debark for ground assault," she finished. As the soldier departed into the bowels of the mecha, which aside from totally overpowered impracticality was also an infantry transport (although I beg you, do NOT ask about the deployment mechanism), Sneers faced forward to the Suit's pilots. "Prepare to target the main generator." Redundant, you may ask? Not so: having worked with grunts for years, she knew just how slow Imperial soldiers could be on the uptake.

    "Rouge 2 are you alright???"

    "Yeah," mumbled the pilot as he crammed more Kleenex up his nose to stop the bleeding, "I'm with you, Rogue Leader."

    "We'll set harpoon i'll cover for you!!"

    They sailed straight on like usual, lazor fire jostling the ships.

    "Coming around."

    "Watch that crossfire boys!!"

    "Set for Position 3... Steady..."

    "Stay tight and low!! This is it!!!"

    At that moment, a blast hit Rogue 2 head-on and the speeder slammed into the ground. Chris craned his neck to see, inadvertently pulling up and into the line of fire. Sparks flew around his cockpit as the circuitry overloaded and he began to lose control. "Hobbie Ive been hit!!!!!"

    "T'is to be expected in this state of Warre, in which all human life is solitary, poore, nasty, brut—" The radio cut out as stabilization failed and Chris' speeder ploughed into the icy plain, head slamming into the windshield and leaving a sizeable crack. Fortunately, he was wearing both his seatbelt and helmet.

    *** SHTAR WORZ will return after these messages ***


    Apply directly to the forehead!


    Apply directly to the forehead!

    *** We now return to SHTAR WORZ ***

    Once the stars cleared, Chris quickly unbluckled and pushed open the canopy. The hedgehog was plodding straight towards him. Panicking, he turned around to see if he could snag ceaser's wallet, since he'd obviously never be using it again. Finding that he must have left it back at base, Chris peeked out to see the giant metal foot roughly a hundred metres and closing. He clambered back inside, sure there must be something worth bringing back, and managed to appropriate a backup tow cable, hastily scrambling out and leaping from the wreck just as the foot flattened it.

    Fegelein hastened down the base corridors, avoiding exposed wiring and chunks of ceiling that were constantly raining down. He picked his way through the debris of the comm room to where Kaiser was still stubbornly giving orders. "You alright?" he called, prompting her and Farnsworth to turn around.

    "Why are you still here?" she barked.

    "I heard the command centre got hit."

    "You got your clearance to leave!"

    "Don't worry, I'll leave," he clambered over a ruined console, "First I'm getting you to your ship."

    "Your Highness, we must take this last transport!" the gentleman implored, "It's our only hope!"

    Kaiser stepped over to another officer. "Send all troops in Sector 12 to the south slope to protect the fighters."

    A massive explosion reverberated through the station. "Imperial troops have entered the base," buzzed the intercom, "Repeat, Imperial troops have ent—" There was a moment of static, then the YouTube Poop "Tomorrow, I'll..." began blasting through the PA.

    Fegelein grasped her by the arm, gently but firmly. "Come on. That's it."

    Without missing a beat, she leaned down the the intel officer. "Give the evacuation code signal." Another blast. She looked up at the Obergruppenführer, who began to hurry her along. "And get to your transports!"

    "Wait for me!" cried Farnsworth, hurrying after them.

    On the front, the troops abandoned the trenches and ruined turrets and broke into full retreat as the FUR Suits continued their indiscriminate bombardment. Chris ran after the hedgehog, eager to exact revenge. As he sprinted slightly ahead, he shot the cable between its leg joints and hoisted himself upward. He found himself right below two spherical protrusions that housed the battery for the main cannon. Igniting his plasma foil, he sliced into the nearest one and tossed in a grenade before disengaging the line and...



    ...fell face-first into the ground.

    Saved by the Farce, it's the only explanation.

    The charge detonated, overloading the capacitors and supercharging the lazor. A short-circuit led to a backfire that blew the mecha in half, the upper torso falling head-first into the ice while the legs toppled backwards.

    The lynx, meanwhile, strode on with no regard to the rebels scurrying before it. "Distance to power generators?" Sneers called out.


    The mecha swung around to try and shoot a passing speeder out of the sky. "Focus, please!" growled the general. She pulled down the periscope, bringing up a perfect view of the generators. "Target; maximum firepower." With a mighty hip-thrust, the lynx delivered a supercharged blast that obliterated the complex in a dazzling explosion.

    "Money shot!" shouted one of the pilots as both exchanged a high-five.

    "Don't— don't. Just... don't."

    Kaiser in tow, Fegelein raced through the now-deserted halls. A sudden blast led the ceiling to cave in ahead, and after a quick surmise he radioed the ship: "Transport, this is Fegelein. Better take off; I can't get to you. We'll evacuate via the Raptor." They hurried back the way they came, spinning Farnsworth around, who sped after them.

    An explosion deeper in the base was quickly followed by Imperial shock troopers and Darth Lackarse himself.

    "Hey! Wait for me!" cried Farnsworth, dodging a lazor blast, "Stop!" He nearly collided with the door that sealed after Kaiser. "How typical," he muttered, before it slid back open and Fegelein dragged him inside.

    "All aboard!" shouted Arkady as the group dashed through the hangar. Unbeknownst to them, Lackarse and his entourage were rapidly closing the distance. The Raptor gave a stuttering whine as the engine stalled, Arkady breaking into a coughing fit as steam billowed from within the ship as the men conducted last-second repairs.

    "How's this?" called Fegelein, fiddling with a control console.

    "Would it help if I got out and pushed?" quipped the Princess.

    "Mr. Fegelein! Mr. Fegelein!" Farnsworth called excitedly, hurrying over.

    "It might."

    "I thought that's what Chris was for?" the werewolf called.

    "Sir, might I suggest that you—" Farnsworth was cut off by a raised hand as Fegelein hurried to the cockpit. "...It can wait."

    Fegelein entered the cabin and flipped some overhead switches to power up the ship. The console fizzled out; he gave it a thwack and coughed back to life. "This bucket of bolts is never going to get us past that blockade," snapped Kaiser as she joined him.

    "It's got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart," the officer replied, jumping between dashboards.

    Outside, shock troopers stormed the hangar. A panel opened up on the ship's underside and a remote-control pulse laser deployed, launching a salvo against the unlucky troopers.

    "Skip the pre-flight check," said Fegelein as Arkady took his seat. "Switch over. Let's hope we don't have a burnout."

    The shock troopers began firing wildly while a team set up a memegun. The engine roared to life. "See?" he grinned to Kaiser.

    "Some day you're going to be wrong, and I just hope I'm alive to see it." Outside, the cannon made short work of the assailants.

    "Punch it." Arkady threw a switch and the Centurion Raptor accelerated forward. Darth Lackarse arrived just in time to watch it zoom out of the hangar. Chris, dazed and confused, spun around as it shot over the frozen hills and banked up into the sky.

    A little while later, the boy arrived at the fall-back point where fighter pilots were scrambling as the last transport prepared to depart. "Jenkins!!" he shouted, and from his special hatch the gentleman chirrupped. "Get her ready for take-off!!" The man ducked inside and started up the fighter's engines.

    "Good luck, Chris," shouted Omega, "See you at the rendez-vous!"

    Chris clambered aboard as Jenkins angled the craft skyward, and soon they had left SPORE behind. Once free of the Imperial blockade, Chris banked his ship left, prompting a confused trill from his co-pilot. "Theres nothing wrong jenkins," Chris replied. "Im just setting a new course." A flurry of staccato notes. "Where not gonna regroup with the others." Whistle. "Were going to the Deewhyoh System." Querying note. "Yes, Jenkins," he sighed. Another flutter. Chris grinned. "Thats alright. I wan to fly it myself for a while."

    Jenkins removed the slide whistle from his mouth, licking his lips nervously.
  18. Reus

    Reus Polar Bear

    Nov 17, 2013
    Devon Island
    what the.......what did am I reading
  19. Ailedhoo

    Ailedhoo wonderer

    Mar 19, 2012
    The depths of madness and fun! :D
  20. Double A

    Double A ♫We got the guillotine♫

    Aug 22, 2009
    You sure are.
    Thorvald of Lym likes this.

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