Civ'ed
I ain't gotta explain a thing
I'd love to make a glorious xxxx yyyy folded n times joke but I have no idea what.
SHTAR WORZ - Teh EMporer stirkes BAUc
- Thread starter Thorvald of Lym
- Start date
Thorvald of Lym
A Little Sketchy
Fegelein had to admit: as days went, he was in the midst of a pretty bad one. First the Raptor needed a nigh-complete overhaul, Princess Kaiser wouldn't admit she had a crush on him, and the secret base that would have put the finest ice hotels to shame was cased by the Empire. Now, to top it all off, he was being tailed by a Star Destructor and its fighter wing.
"Looks like he brought friends, sir," Arkady stated with the nonchalance of a soldier that had accepted his imminent death.
"I saw them, I saw them," Fegelein muttered, wrestling with the dashboard.
"Saw what?" Kaiser shouted over the din of the lazors.
"Star Destructors. Two of 'em, coming right at us." He pointed to the white triangles dead-centre of the cockpit.
"Sir? Sir?" chriped Farnsworth, shuffling in, "Might I suggest—"
"Zip the stiff upper lip," he snapped. Another blast from the fighters sent the gentleman tumbling into the first mate's lap. "Check the deflector shield."
"Sorry, tovarishsh, no homo," said Arkady, pushing him back onto his feet before focusing on the overhead controls. "Uh..."
"Great," groaned the officer. Then, seeing their trajectory, a smile crossed his lips. "Greeeat..!"
Fegelein pitched the Raptor down sharply. The ships' commanders simply stood, dumbfounded, for a full minute, blindly sailing on. By the time they'd recovered their wits, the Star Destructors had almost closed together like a set of pointed teeth. "Take evasive action!!" scramed the captain of the first ship before the crew was thrown about the deck.
For once, a narrower perspective turned out well for Imperial pilots as the Kite Flyers maintained pursuit. Now, one might be wondering why, given all the time devoted to the dogfight in the first movie, nobody was manning the Raptor's batteries here. Well, to get the ship airborne Fegelein had to put off repairing certain systems to a later date; in order to work on the hyperdrive, he forwent maintenance on the weapons.
"Prepare to make the jump to light speed."
"But sir—!" shrieked Farnsworth.
"They're getting closer," pressed Kaiser.
"Oh yeah? Watch this." Fegelein thumbed a lever, but rather than the expected electric blue tunnel, he was answered with the sound of a propellor plane's engine stalling.
"Watch what?" the Princess quipped, sarcastically. In one of those moments so rare that even a photograph would be challenged as legitimate proof, doubt flashed across the Obergruppenführer's face.
"I think we're in trouble."
"If I may say so, sir," the gentleman continued, catching his balance after the latest lazor salvo, "I noticed earlier the IP6 protocol has been corrupted! It's impossible to go to light speed!"
So much for prioritization.
"We're in trouble!" the officer repeated, springing from his chair. As Kaiser and Farnsworth took control of the ship, Arkady and Fegelein withdrew into the interior for emergency repairs. "IP4 protocol set to default?" he called, balancing on a set of pipes.
"Affirmative."
"DNS server?" He swung himself around like a gymnast as he reached into the bowels of the machinery.
"Never touched it."
"No, that's not it... Bring me our proxy list!"
"Let's hope the damn VPN doesn't override it again," growled the first mate as he deposited a set of tools next to the manhole.
"I don't know how we're getting out of this one," muttered Fegelein as he descended back into the hardware. A sudden lurch sent the toolbox tumbling inside; but the Obergruppenführer was a prudent fellow and had kept himself to the opposite side. He re-emerged, setting the tools away from the ledge when the ship lurched again. He looked around in confusion. "That wasn't a memetic mutation; something hit us."
"Fegelein, get up here," called the Princess. The men broke from their posts and ran to the cockpit. "Chatroom," she explained, leaping from the seat as the pilots took over.
"Oh, no," he muttered matter-of-factly as he sat down. "Arkady, set 2-7-1."
"As you will."
Kaiser stared at him, flabbergasted, when the ship didn't alter course. "What are you doing? You're not actually going into a flame war?!"
"They'd be crazy to follow us, wouldn't they?" he smirked. The Raptor began aerobatics worthy of the finest Russian ballerinas as it threaded its way through the barbs and eroge.
"You don't have to do this to impress me," she breathed, panic-stricken.
"Sir," interjected Farnsworth, even more agitated, "The probability of successfully navigating a chatroom flame war is approximately equivalent to a baby's chance in Iblis!"
"Never tell me the odds," he replied.
The Kite Flyers tried to keep pace as the Raptor dodged the litany of curses. One unlucky fighter was a millisecond too slow, and was smashed to bits by hardcore furry porn. As they careened around a particularly menacing strawman, another fighter was clipped by an ad hominem, spinning out of control and dashing itself against a homophobic slur. Farnsworth could barely contain his screams as the Raptor narrowly avoided jousting political partisanship, and even Arkady uttered terrified exclamations as they sailed straight through a boobytrap image link.
"You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake? This could be it, sweetheart."
"I take it back! We're going to get pulverized if we stay out here much longer."
"I can't argue with that."
"Pulverized?!" the gentleman whimpered.
"I'm going in closer to one of the big ones," Fegelein declared.
"Closer?!" everyone else cried in unison.
Evading an epileptic GIF with a barrel roll, the Raptor twisted around and began skimming the surface of a massive trollfic. The fighters had closed distance and resumed their strafing. Keeping low, Fegelein sped into a narrow crevasse; he jerked the ship onto its side, barely slipping through a choke point as the pursuers smashed into the wall-o-text. Levelling out, he pitched back up over the canyon wall.
"Oh, this is suicide!" Farnsworth wailed, "There's nowhere to go!"
"There," breathed the officer, pointing forward, "That looks pretty good."
"Eh?" Arkady turned to him.
"What looks pretty good?" Kaiser asked, standing up.
"Ja... That'll do nicely..." The ship pitched forward into another jagged crater.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," Farnsworth piped up, "But, where are we going?" She shrugged. The Raptor made a wide backflip, plunging into a tunnel to the trollfic's interior. Fegelein switched on the headlights and cabin lamps as darkness enveloped the ship.
"I hope you know what you're doing," the Princess murmured.
"We'll see soon enough," he replied, tone devoid of any trace of sarcasm.
Meanwhile, somewhere off in the opposite direction, Chris' X-wing was entering the outer orbit of a large planet whose surface was obscured by a thick fog of secrecy. Peering out from his observation dome, Jenkins gave a whistle. "yeah thats it," said the boy, "Deewhyoh." Jenkins made a trill. "No i'm not gonna change my mind about this!!" he snapped back. "Im not picking up any people or aliens... huge technology readings though... thre should be something worth looting down there." Jenkins gave an indignant squawk.
The ship began to tremble violently as it plunged into the ambiguity, and Jenkins chirrupped alarms. "I know I know!!! All the scopes are dead I cant see a thing!!!" Chris shouted as he wrestled with the controls. "Just hang on!!!!! Im gonna start the landing cycle!" Jenkins whistled a flurry of protests as Chris only seemed to speed up. Metal beams and timbers smashed against the cabin before with a mighty heave, the ship ploughed into a steel-grey pool, water droplets spattering across the windshield.
A few moments passed. Jenkins chirrupped anxiously. Slowly, Chris came to, groaning as he picked his head up off of the dashboard, blinking to clear the stars. He opened the cabin and looked around. The fighter was half-submerged in the water, its headlights barely piercing the foggy uncertainty that clung to the environment like Jehoshua to a choirb—aw wait no, he only died last episode. Too soon, man. Too soon.
Chris cast a sweeping glance from left to right. Then he began cursing, loud and furiously, pounding the dashboard as he writhed in his seat like a man possessed. His tantrum lasted a full five minutes before he finally exhausted himself, sinking into his chair as shouts turned to sobs. After a quarter-hour he pulled himself together and climbed out of the cockpit, shuffling down the nose of the X-wing toward the shore. Jenkins clambered out of his crawlspace, whistling after him. "no jenkins you stay put," ordered the boy, "I'll have a look around." He pulled off his helmet and tossed it back into the cabin. A sudden lurch nearly sent him into the water and knocked the gentleman overboard. "Jenkins?! JENKINS!!!!" he screamed, scanning the metallic surface for any trace of his co-pilot. "Where are you?!?!?! JENKINS!!!!!!!!!!!"
A tense moment later, a snorkel pierced the surface, ejecting a spout of water. Chris sighed, still coming to terms with the man's uncanny knack for preparedness. Jenkins surfaced shortly afterward, sporting a pair of swimming goggles; he poured the water out of his slide whistle, replacing it between his lips. The boy laughed. "OK I'll meet you on the shore." He looked around for a sandbar or a rock or something, but had to dive into the water himself, swimming over to a crumbling concrete ledge and dragging himself ashore, then helping the gentleman up.
He looked around. Emerging from the mist were the outlines of buildings, tall, like skyscrapers, most of whose tops disappeared into the murky sky. They were all in an advanced state of disrepair, windows cracked or missing, empty archways with no doors. The higher the buildings stood, the less intact they looked, steel girders and brick ledges leaving jagged outlines against the limited horizon. The roads and sidewalks, despite no sign of natural wear, had cracked and buckled, shoots of grass and weeds peppering the surface. A light breeze felt its way through the streets, as dead as the city, echoing eerily through the gaping holes and rattling ragged tarpaulins that hung over the buildings' upper storeys like an outer skin that had somehow failed to decay. At first Chris thought he was on the site of an ancient battlefield, but upon closer inspection he realized that half of what he thought was disrepair was in fact incomplete construction, as if someone had started building the city all at once, only to vanish just as abruptly. The whole thing left him deeply unnerved. It didn't just feel unfinished; it was as if it was unbegun.
"You said coming here was a bad idea... I'm begining to agree with you." He spied a rusted but sturdy-looking metal bench and sat down. "Jekins, what are we doing here??" he groaned. "Its like... something out of a dream..." The gentleman played a low trill. "Or I dont know. Maybe I'm just going crazy."
No, I'm not going to comment.
No, really, I'm not.
Elsewhere, also far from Fegelein & Co. but not quite as far as Chris was, that huge... bloody... that spaceship putted along, 'flanked' by its tiny brethren. Within, Tyo entered Darth Lackarse's private quarters. The dome was open and he arrived just in time to see a robotic arm affix the Dork Lord's helmet with a shhhp–THUNK. He swallowed nervously as Lackarse turned to face him. "YES, ADMIRAL?"
Tyo cleared his throat. "Our ships have sighted the Centurion Raptor, Lord, but... it has entered a flame war and we cannot risk—"
"CHATROOM E-PEENS DO NOT CONCERN ME, ADMIRAL," he interrupted, "THIS SHIP HAS ROGUE ADMIN POWERS. I AM CONFIDENT YOU'LL FIND A WAY TO OVERCOME SUCH OBSTACLES."
The officer gave a nervous smile. "Yes, Lord," he bowed, as the die closed up.
Back onboard said Raptor, Fegelein returned to the cockpit where everyone else was tinkering with the control panels. "I'm going to shut down everything but the emergency power systems," he declared as he reached across the dashboard. "Farnsworth, I need you to talk to the Raptor, find out what's wrong with the hyperdrive."
A sudden, violent lurch nearly toppled everyone over. "I hate rollercoasters," muttered Arkady.
"Sir," said Farnsworth after a moment, "It's quite possible this story is not entirely stable."
"An unstable trollfic?" he repeated scornfully, "You don't say! Arkady, take the Professor into the back and set him up with the hyperdrive."
"Will do," he replied.
As the door closed behind them there was another lurch and Princess Kaiser tumbled into Fegelein's lap as he tumbled into the rear passenger chair. When the ship steadied, she looked down to where his arms wrapped around her waist. "Let go," she muttered. He hushed her, peering out of the cockpit with that unfocused gaze of someone who was thinking more than watching. "Let go, please!" she repeated as the aftershocks dissipated.
"Don't get excited," he teased.
"Gruppenführer, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited."
"Sorry, sweetheart," he said as he unceremoniously pushed her onto her feet, rising himself, "I don't have time for anything else." He gave a sidelong smirk before disappearing into the interior. Kaiser's jaw slid back and forth as she resumed her work on the controls.
Meanwhile, on Deewhyoh, Chris had changed out of his flight suit and returned to the ship to collect his provisions. He shut off the lights and sealed the cabin, returning to shore by a weathered solid wooden plank he'd found for a makeshift bridge. He picked his way through a decaying foyer to the empty centre of an uncompleted structure that looked like the foundation to an overly-ambitious LEGO house, where Jenkins had prepared a makeshift camp. Chris set down a tin of rations by the portable stove, looking around at the desolate city. "Now all I gotta do is find this Thorvald... if he even exists." Jenkins gave a low trill. Chris pulled a pack over and sat down. "Its really a strange place to find a cheddar master," he muttered. Jenkins chirruped. Chris opened his food tin, setting it down between them. "This place gives me the creeps." He looked at their meal, frowning as he found no less than three kebabs, resigning himself to the soda crackers. "Still... theres something familiar about this place." Inquisitive note. "I dont know. I feel like..."
"Like what?"
Chris spun around, pistol in hand in a split second. "Like were being watched!!!!"
Standing—or rather, cowering—in the rubble of a collapsed wall was lean, hunched figure clutching a golf umbrella as a makeshift cane. "Away put your weapon!" it croaked, "I mean you no harm!" Slowly, it unfolded itself, revealing a bearded man with a gaunt face, wearing a medieval steel helmet with a funnel-like top and heavily rusted aventail. "I am wondering: Why are you here?"
Still keeping his gun trained on the intruder, Chris replied: "I'm looking for someone."
"Looking?" the man's face lit up. "Found someone you have, I would say! Hmm?" He broke into a gravelly chuckle.
"Right," said Chris with a nervous smile, turning a little ways back to his food.
"Help you, I can!" said the man, "Yes! Mmm!"
Chris let out a sharp laugh. "I dont think so," he said as he holstered his pistol. The man cocked his head to the side, dog-like. "I'm looking for a great warrior!"
"Oooh!" He laughed again, shuffling forward. "Great warrior!" he giggled. "Wars not make one great!" Chris stood up as he walked right into the middle of the camp. "Ooohhh!" he cried, picking up a tray of souvlaki.
"Put that down! HEY!!!" shouted Chris, as the intruder began eating it. "Thats my dinner!!" He snatched it away and sealed up the other cases, putting them out of immediate reach.
"Pah! Pfeh!" spat the man, hoisting himself on top of a portable battery, "How you get so big, eating food of this kind?"
"Listen 'friend'," snapped Chris, looking over the souvlaki before tossing it away in disgust, "We didnt mean to land in that puddle and if we could get our ship out we would but we can't, so why don't you just—"
"Aww, cannot get your ship out!" he teased, before plunging his head into one of the tool bins.
"Hey get out of there!!!"
"Ahhh!" he croaked in delight, before Chris came over and snatched away his portable hard drive. "Nooo! Aww..."
"Hey you couldve broken this!!!"
The man began tossing tools and trinkets willy-nilly, as if burrowing into the ground.
"Don't do that!!!" the boy groaned, shuffling over to pick up the mess.
"Oohh!" he cried again, giggling as he returned with a workman's LED flashlight. Jenkins watched the expression silently, but with a very amused expression.
"Your making a mess..." Chris sighed. "HEY!!!" he shouted, spying the torch, which the man was shining into his own face like a playful child.
"Mine!" he snapped as Chris reached to retrieve it, "Or I will help you not."
"I dont wan tyour help!" he snapped back, "I want my lamp back im gonna need it to get out of this dead-end plot hole!"
"Plot hole?! Dead-end?!" the man repeated, incredulous, "My life's work, this is!"
Chris looked to Jenkins, hinting at him to steal the lamp back, but the gentleman gave a neutral whistle, shrugging. The boy rolled his eyes, too tired to consider fighting the intruder himself. "Can you move along old man? We've got a lot of work to do!"
"Noo! No— Nooo!" he protested, shuffling over until he was right in front of Chris. "Stay and help you, I will! Heehee! Find your friend, hmm?"
"Im not looking for a 'friend'," he scowled, "Im looking for a cheddar master!"
"Ooohhh..!" The man's whole face lit up instantly. "Cheddar Master! Thorvald," he prodded the boy, "You seek Thorvald!"
Chris brought himself face-to-face with the man. "You know him?!?!"
"Mmmm! Take you to him, I will! Eeeheeheeheeheh! Yes, yes... But now, you must eat. Come!" He began shuffling off in the opposite direction from whence he came, giggling the while. "Good food! Come!" Chris watched him, unsure whether the man was having him on. But if he did know Thorvald... Already the old man had almost faded into the mist. "Come! Come!" he cried, waving the torch.
"Jenkins," he finally declared, and the gentleman whistled. "Stay and watch after the camp."
"Looks like he brought friends, sir," Arkady stated with the nonchalance of a soldier that had accepted his imminent death.
"I saw them, I saw them," Fegelein muttered, wrestling with the dashboard.
"Saw what?" Kaiser shouted over the din of the lazors.
"Star Destructors. Two of 'em, coming right at us." He pointed to the white triangles dead-centre of the cockpit.
"Sir? Sir?" chriped Farnsworth, shuffling in, "Might I suggest—"
"Zip the stiff upper lip," he snapped. Another blast from the fighters sent the gentleman tumbling into the first mate's lap. "Check the deflector shield."
"Sorry, tovarishsh, no homo," said Arkady, pushing him back onto his feet before focusing on the overhead controls. "Uh..."
"Great," groaned the officer. Then, seeing their trajectory, a smile crossed his lips. "Greeeat..!"
Fegelein pitched the Raptor down sharply. The ships' commanders simply stood, dumbfounded, for a full minute, blindly sailing on. By the time they'd recovered their wits, the Star Destructors had almost closed together like a set of pointed teeth. "Take evasive action!!" scramed the captain of the first ship before the crew was thrown about the deck.
For once, a narrower perspective turned out well for Imperial pilots as the Kite Flyers maintained pursuit. Now, one might be wondering why, given all the time devoted to the dogfight in the first movie, nobody was manning the Raptor's batteries here. Well, to get the ship airborne Fegelein had to put off repairing certain systems to a later date; in order to work on the hyperdrive, he forwent maintenance on the weapons.
"Prepare to make the jump to light speed."
"But sir—!" shrieked Farnsworth.
"They're getting closer," pressed Kaiser.
"Oh yeah? Watch this." Fegelein thumbed a lever, but rather than the expected electric blue tunnel, he was answered with the sound of a propellor plane's engine stalling.
"Watch what?" the Princess quipped, sarcastically. In one of those moments so rare that even a photograph would be challenged as legitimate proof, doubt flashed across the Obergruppenführer's face.
"I think we're in trouble."
"If I may say so, sir," the gentleman continued, catching his balance after the latest lazor salvo, "I noticed earlier the IP6 protocol has been corrupted! It's impossible to go to light speed!"
So much for prioritization.
"We're in trouble!" the officer repeated, springing from his chair. As Kaiser and Farnsworth took control of the ship, Arkady and Fegelein withdrew into the interior for emergency repairs. "IP4 protocol set to default?" he called, balancing on a set of pipes.
"Affirmative."
"DNS server?" He swung himself around like a gymnast as he reached into the bowels of the machinery.
"Never touched it."
"No, that's not it... Bring me our proxy list!"
"Let's hope the damn VPN doesn't override it again," growled the first mate as he deposited a set of tools next to the manhole.
"I don't know how we're getting out of this one," muttered Fegelein as he descended back into the hardware. A sudden lurch sent the toolbox tumbling inside; but the Obergruppenführer was a prudent fellow and had kept himself to the opposite side. He re-emerged, setting the tools away from the ledge when the ship lurched again. He looked around in confusion. "That wasn't a memetic mutation; something hit us."
"Fegelein, get up here," called the Princess. The men broke from their posts and ran to the cockpit. "Chatroom," she explained, leaping from the seat as the pilots took over.
"Oh, no," he muttered matter-of-factly as he sat down. "Arkady, set 2-7-1."
"As you will."
Kaiser stared at him, flabbergasted, when the ship didn't alter course. "What are you doing? You're not actually going into a flame war?!"
"They'd be crazy to follow us, wouldn't they?" he smirked. The Raptor began aerobatics worthy of the finest Russian ballerinas as it threaded its way through the barbs and eroge.
"You don't have to do this to impress me," she breathed, panic-stricken.
"Sir," interjected Farnsworth, even more agitated, "The probability of successfully navigating a chatroom flame war is approximately equivalent to a baby's chance in Iblis!"
"Never tell me the odds," he replied.
The Kite Flyers tried to keep pace as the Raptor dodged the litany of curses. One unlucky fighter was a millisecond too slow, and was smashed to bits by hardcore furry porn. As they careened around a particularly menacing strawman, another fighter was clipped by an ad hominem, spinning out of control and dashing itself against a homophobic slur. Farnsworth could barely contain his screams as the Raptor narrowly avoided jousting political partisanship, and even Arkady uttered terrified exclamations as they sailed straight through a boobytrap image link.
"You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake? This could be it, sweetheart."
"I take it back! We're going to get pulverized if we stay out here much longer."
"I can't argue with that."
"Pulverized?!" the gentleman whimpered.
"I'm going in closer to one of the big ones," Fegelein declared.
"Closer?!" everyone else cried in unison.
Evading an epileptic GIF with a barrel roll, the Raptor twisted around and began skimming the surface of a massive trollfic. The fighters had closed distance and resumed their strafing. Keeping low, Fegelein sped into a narrow crevasse; he jerked the ship onto its side, barely slipping through a choke point as the pursuers smashed into the wall-o-text. Levelling out, he pitched back up over the canyon wall.
"Oh, this is suicide!" Farnsworth wailed, "There's nowhere to go!"
"There," breathed the officer, pointing forward, "That looks pretty good."
"Eh?" Arkady turned to him.
"What looks pretty good?" Kaiser asked, standing up.
"Ja... That'll do nicely..." The ship pitched forward into another jagged crater.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," Farnsworth piped up, "But, where are we going?" She shrugged. The Raptor made a wide backflip, plunging into a tunnel to the trollfic's interior. Fegelein switched on the headlights and cabin lamps as darkness enveloped the ship.
"I hope you know what you're doing," the Princess murmured.
"We'll see soon enough," he replied, tone devoid of any trace of sarcasm.
Meanwhile, somewhere off in the opposite direction, Chris' X-wing was entering the outer orbit of a large planet whose surface was obscured by a thick fog of secrecy. Peering out from his observation dome, Jenkins gave a whistle. "yeah thats it," said the boy, "Deewhyoh." Jenkins made a trill. "No i'm not gonna change my mind about this!!" he snapped back. "Im not picking up any people or aliens... huge technology readings though... thre should be something worth looting down there." Jenkins gave an indignant squawk.
The ship began to tremble violently as it plunged into the ambiguity, and Jenkins chirrupped alarms. "I know I know!!! All the scopes are dead I cant see a thing!!!" Chris shouted as he wrestled with the controls. "Just hang on!!!!! Im gonna start the landing cycle!" Jenkins whistled a flurry of protests as Chris only seemed to speed up. Metal beams and timbers smashed against the cabin before with a mighty heave, the ship ploughed into a steel-grey pool, water droplets spattering across the windshield.
A few moments passed. Jenkins chirrupped anxiously. Slowly, Chris came to, groaning as he picked his head up off of the dashboard, blinking to clear the stars. He opened the cabin and looked around. The fighter was half-submerged in the water, its headlights barely piercing the foggy uncertainty that clung to the environment like Jehoshua to a choirb—aw wait no, he only died last episode. Too soon, man. Too soon.
Chris cast a sweeping glance from left to right. Then he began cursing, loud and furiously, pounding the dashboard as he writhed in his seat like a man possessed. His tantrum lasted a full five minutes before he finally exhausted himself, sinking into his chair as shouts turned to sobs. After a quarter-hour he pulled himself together and climbed out of the cockpit, shuffling down the nose of the X-wing toward the shore. Jenkins clambered out of his crawlspace, whistling after him. "no jenkins you stay put," ordered the boy, "I'll have a look around." He pulled off his helmet and tossed it back into the cabin. A sudden lurch nearly sent him into the water and knocked the gentleman overboard. "Jenkins?! JENKINS!!!!" he screamed, scanning the metallic surface for any trace of his co-pilot. "Where are you?!?!?! JENKINS!!!!!!!!!!!"
A tense moment later, a snorkel pierced the surface, ejecting a spout of water. Chris sighed, still coming to terms with the man's uncanny knack for preparedness. Jenkins surfaced shortly afterward, sporting a pair of swimming goggles; he poured the water out of his slide whistle, replacing it between his lips. The boy laughed. "OK I'll meet you on the shore." He looked around for a sandbar or a rock or something, but had to dive into the water himself, swimming over to a crumbling concrete ledge and dragging himself ashore, then helping the gentleman up.
He looked around. Emerging from the mist were the outlines of buildings, tall, like skyscrapers, most of whose tops disappeared into the murky sky. They were all in an advanced state of disrepair, windows cracked or missing, empty archways with no doors. The higher the buildings stood, the less intact they looked, steel girders and brick ledges leaving jagged outlines against the limited horizon. The roads and sidewalks, despite no sign of natural wear, had cracked and buckled, shoots of grass and weeds peppering the surface. A light breeze felt its way through the streets, as dead as the city, echoing eerily through the gaping holes and rattling ragged tarpaulins that hung over the buildings' upper storeys like an outer skin that had somehow failed to decay. At first Chris thought he was on the site of an ancient battlefield, but upon closer inspection he realized that half of what he thought was disrepair was in fact incomplete construction, as if someone had started building the city all at once, only to vanish just as abruptly. The whole thing left him deeply unnerved. It didn't just feel unfinished; it was as if it was unbegun.
"You said coming here was a bad idea... I'm begining to agree with you." He spied a rusted but sturdy-looking metal bench and sat down. "Jekins, what are we doing here??" he groaned. "Its like... something out of a dream..." The gentleman played a low trill. "Or I dont know. Maybe I'm just going crazy."
No, I'm not going to comment.
No, really, I'm not.
Elsewhere, also far from Fegelein & Co. but not quite as far as Chris was, that huge... bloody... that spaceship putted along, 'flanked' by its tiny brethren. Within, Tyo entered Darth Lackarse's private quarters. The dome was open and he arrived just in time to see a robotic arm affix the Dork Lord's helmet with a shhhp–THUNK. He swallowed nervously as Lackarse turned to face him. "YES, ADMIRAL?"
Tyo cleared his throat. "Our ships have sighted the Centurion Raptor, Lord, but... it has entered a flame war and we cannot risk—"
"CHATROOM E-PEENS DO NOT CONCERN ME, ADMIRAL," he interrupted, "THIS SHIP HAS ROGUE ADMIN POWERS. I AM CONFIDENT YOU'LL FIND A WAY TO OVERCOME SUCH OBSTACLES."
The officer gave a nervous smile. "Yes, Lord," he bowed, as the die closed up.
Back onboard said Raptor, Fegelein returned to the cockpit where everyone else was tinkering with the control panels. "I'm going to shut down everything but the emergency power systems," he declared as he reached across the dashboard. "Farnsworth, I need you to talk to the Raptor, find out what's wrong with the hyperdrive."
A sudden, violent lurch nearly toppled everyone over. "I hate rollercoasters," muttered Arkady.
"Sir," said Farnsworth after a moment, "It's quite possible this story is not entirely stable."
"An unstable trollfic?" he repeated scornfully, "You don't say! Arkady, take the Professor into the back and set him up with the hyperdrive."
"Will do," he replied.
As the door closed behind them there was another lurch and Princess Kaiser tumbled into Fegelein's lap as he tumbled into the rear passenger chair. When the ship steadied, she looked down to where his arms wrapped around her waist. "Let go," she muttered. He hushed her, peering out of the cockpit with that unfocused gaze of someone who was thinking more than watching. "Let go, please!" she repeated as the aftershocks dissipated.
"Don't get excited," he teased.
"Gruppenführer, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited."
"Sorry, sweetheart," he said as he unceremoniously pushed her onto her feet, rising himself, "I don't have time for anything else." He gave a sidelong smirk before disappearing into the interior. Kaiser's jaw slid back and forth as she resumed her work on the controls.
Meanwhile, on Deewhyoh, Chris had changed out of his flight suit and returned to the ship to collect his provisions. He shut off the lights and sealed the cabin, returning to shore by a weathered solid wooden plank he'd found for a makeshift bridge. He picked his way through a decaying foyer to the empty centre of an uncompleted structure that looked like the foundation to an overly-ambitious LEGO house, where Jenkins had prepared a makeshift camp. Chris set down a tin of rations by the portable stove, looking around at the desolate city. "Now all I gotta do is find this Thorvald... if he even exists." Jenkins gave a low trill. Chris pulled a pack over and sat down. "Its really a strange place to find a cheddar master," he muttered. Jenkins chirruped. Chris opened his food tin, setting it down between them. "This place gives me the creeps." He looked at their meal, frowning as he found no less than three kebabs, resigning himself to the soda crackers. "Still... theres something familiar about this place." Inquisitive note. "I dont know. I feel like..."
"Like what?"
Chris spun around, pistol in hand in a split second. "Like were being watched!!!!"
Standing—or rather, cowering—in the rubble of a collapsed wall was lean, hunched figure clutching a golf umbrella as a makeshift cane. "Away put your weapon!" it croaked, "I mean you no harm!" Slowly, it unfolded itself, revealing a bearded man with a gaunt face, wearing a medieval steel helmet with a funnel-like top and heavily rusted aventail. "I am wondering: Why are you here?"
Still keeping his gun trained on the intruder, Chris replied: "I'm looking for someone."
"Looking?" the man's face lit up. "Found someone you have, I would say! Hmm?" He broke into a gravelly chuckle.
"Right," said Chris with a nervous smile, turning a little ways back to his food.
"Help you, I can!" said the man, "Yes! Mmm!"
Chris let out a sharp laugh. "I dont think so," he said as he holstered his pistol. The man cocked his head to the side, dog-like. "I'm looking for a great warrior!"
"Oooh!" He laughed again, shuffling forward. "Great warrior!" he giggled. "Wars not make one great!" Chris stood up as he walked right into the middle of the camp. "Ooohhh!" he cried, picking up a tray of souvlaki.
"Put that down! HEY!!!" shouted Chris, as the intruder began eating it. "Thats my dinner!!" He snatched it away and sealed up the other cases, putting them out of immediate reach.
"Pah! Pfeh!" spat the man, hoisting himself on top of a portable battery, "How you get so big, eating food of this kind?"
"Listen 'friend'," snapped Chris, looking over the souvlaki before tossing it away in disgust, "We didnt mean to land in that puddle and if we could get our ship out we would but we can't, so why don't you just—"
"Aww, cannot get your ship out!" he teased, before plunging his head into one of the tool bins.
"Hey get out of there!!!"
"Ahhh!" he croaked in delight, before Chris came over and snatched away his portable hard drive. "Nooo! Aww..."
"Hey you couldve broken this!!!"
The man began tossing tools and trinkets willy-nilly, as if burrowing into the ground.
"Don't do that!!!" the boy groaned, shuffling over to pick up the mess.
"Oohh!" he cried again, giggling as he returned with a workman's LED flashlight. Jenkins watched the expression silently, but with a very amused expression.
"Your making a mess..." Chris sighed. "HEY!!!" he shouted, spying the torch, which the man was shining into his own face like a playful child.
"Mine!" he snapped as Chris reached to retrieve it, "Or I will help you not."
"I dont wan tyour help!" he snapped back, "I want my lamp back im gonna need it to get out of this dead-end plot hole!"
"Plot hole?! Dead-end?!" the man repeated, incredulous, "My life's work, this is!"
Chris looked to Jenkins, hinting at him to steal the lamp back, but the gentleman gave a neutral whistle, shrugging. The boy rolled his eyes, too tired to consider fighting the intruder himself. "Can you move along old man? We've got a lot of work to do!"
"Noo! No— Nooo!" he protested, shuffling over until he was right in front of Chris. "Stay and help you, I will! Heehee! Find your friend, hmm?"
"Im not looking for a 'friend'," he scowled, "Im looking for a cheddar master!"
"Ooohhh..!" The man's whole face lit up instantly. "Cheddar Master! Thorvald," he prodded the boy, "You seek Thorvald!"
Chris brought himself face-to-face with the man. "You know him?!?!"
"Mmmm! Take you to him, I will! Eeeheeheeheeheh! Yes, yes... But now, you must eat. Come!" He began shuffling off in the opposite direction from whence he came, giggling the while. "Good food! Come!" Chris watched him, unsure whether the man was having him on. But if he did know Thorvald... Already the old man had almost faded into the mist. "Come! Come!" he cried, waving the torch.
"Jenkins," he finally declared, and the gentleman whistled. "Stay and watch after the camp."
Last edited:
Robert Can't
Éponine
And now we wait again...
Top stuff of course.
Top stuff of course.
Bair_the_Normal
転輪聖王
ach mein gott
Thorvald of Lym
A Little Sketchy
Onboard the Centurion Raptor, Farnsworth was hesitantly tapping at a brightly-lit panel as though the wrong button would fry him to a crisp. "Ack!" he cried in vexation, "Where is Jenkins when I need him?!" Fegelein entered the corridor to pick up a bundle of cables. "Sir, I don't know who programmed your ship's computer, but it has the most peculiar arithmetic." The officer stepped over. "I believe, sir, it says that the power coupling on the negative access has been polarized. Do you have any idea what that means?"
Fegelein peered inside an open spot of panelling, thumping his free hand against the wall with a scowl. "Something fried the circuitry and now it'll only take Direct Current. Of course I'll have to replace the whole thing." He walked over to an opening in the ceiling where Arkady was conducting repairs, passing the bundle up. "Here. And Arkady?"
The first mate poked his head out. "Da?"
"We'll need to replace the power coupling on the out-port." The Obergruppenführer cast a frown back to the console. "I swear the laws of physics are getting weirder every day..."
Further into the ship, Princess Kaiser finished welding a set of wires. She yanked off a dead line as she hung up the welding goggles before closing up the maintenance hatch. She gripped the breaker switch and tried to push it up, grunting in frustration as the lever refused to budge. Fegelein entered silently and moved to help her, but she angrily shrugged him off. "Hey, Your Worship," he sang apologetically, "I'm only trying to help!"
"Would you please stop calling me that?" she sighed, adjusting her grip.
"Sure, Bernie," he nodded nonchalantly.
Kaiser sighed, exasperated. "You make it so difficult sometimes..."
"I know, I really do." She gave another heave, to no effect. "You could be a little nicer, though," he began. "C'mon, admit it: sometimes you think I'm alright."
The Princess turned away from the control panel, kissing her finger where it had slammed into the panel. "Occasionally," she confessed, "Maybe. When you aren't acting like a scoundrel."
Fegelein stepped over, taking her hand in his. "Scoundrel?" he repeated innocently. "Scoundrel?" He broke into his trademark scoundrelly grin as he caressed her hand. "Yes, I can see your point..."
"Stop that," she said quietly.
"Stop what?"
"Stop that!" she repeated, more as chastisement than out of discomfort, "My hands are dirty."
"Well, in place of a towel..." His brow furrowed. "Are you cold? You're trembling."
"I'm not trembling," she lied as Fegelein slowly leaned in.
"You like me because I'm a scoundrel," he surmised. "There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."
"I happen to like nice men..."
"Nice men," he parroted back, their noses almost touching.
"Very nice—"
Whether Fegelein kept going or Kaiser nodded forward was hard to tell; the end result was that princess and gruppenführer locked lips in what could only be described as mutual enthusiasm. –There, you can tell it's romantic from that flowy crescendo.
"Sir! Sir!" Farnsworth practically skipped into the alcove, "I've isolated the—" He took stock of the embrace. "I'll come back later," he murmured.
Barely a moment after he had departed, Fegelein broke off. "I had better go check," he apologized, "Turn your back for five minutes and we might end up in a wormhole to Star Trek." Kaiser watched him go, with just a tinge of disappointment.
Out in the flame war, everyone's favourite spacefaring Ratte tore a swath of new ones as it sailed through the chatroom, adminning at will. Onboard, Darth Lackarse watched three officers on holo-projectors, the leftmost raising his hands in a terrified brace-for-impact before his image shorted out. "That, Lord Lackarse," explained the man in the middle, a wide-eyed elder with a long white beard and cane, "Was the last time they appeared in any of our logs. Considering the amount of damage we've sustained, they must have been perma-banned."
"NO, CAPTAIN," Lackarse replied, "THEY'RE ALIVE. I WANT EVERY 120 THOUSAND OF YOUR SHIPS TO SWEEP THE CHATROOM UNTIL THEY ARE FOUND." The men gave a curt bow, and the projection terminated. Just as Lackarse made for a side hall, Tyo approached him, a little out-of-breath.
"Lord Lackarse," he called.
The Dork Lord turned around, and in spite of himself, the admiral swallowed hard. "YES ADMIRAL, WHAT IS IT?"
He took a breath, mustering his courage. "The Emporer commands you to make contact with him."
"MOVE THE SHIP OUT OF THE CHATROOM," he commanded, side-stepping the officer, "SO THAT WE CAN SEND A CLEAR TRANSMISSION."
"Yes, milord."
It took thirty minutes and untold forumers toasted for that obscene arrowhead to turn about. Lackarse stepped onto a circular dias by his private cubicle, bowing with one knee. A bright gold ring illuminated around him, and a massive holo-projection materialized in the space above. The black cloak did nothing to conceal the inhuman face, a bizarre mix of a lynx, wolf, and a heavily stylized hedgehog. The eyes were comically large, like something out of anime or an old platform computer game, and a mischievous, condescending smile played upon its lips. "Hey, Lackey," called the Emporer of Teh Galaxy in far too cheerful a tone, "'Sup?"
"WHAT IS THY BIDDING, MY MASTER?" asked the Dork Lord with embarrassing reverence.
"A coffee, if it's not too much trouble. But seriously, there's a great disturbance in the Farce."
"I HAVE FELT IT."
"I bet. Must suck when the teenagers drive by blasting Eminem; you probably shake like a big tin can filled with pebbles. Speaking of teen spirit, we've got a new enemy on our hands, a Rebel kid. You know, the one that cased the Doom Sphere?" As he spoke, the hologram shifted, and the faint sound of a zipper could be heard. "I have a funny feeling this boy is none other than Star Wars' Number One Fan."
"HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?" Lackarse asked quietly.
"You're a Dork Lord of the Farce, Lackey," chided the Emporer, "Spend half a minute thinking it over and you should figure it out on your own. My mechanics aren't that obtuse." The Emporer's brow knitted and he gave a grunt. "You know," he remarked casually, "He could destroy us..."
"HE'S JUST A BOY. ALEC GUINNESS CAN NO LONGER HELP HIM."
"The Farce is strong with him," the Emporer sighed, rolling his eyes, "You know what that means. The Son of Starlifter must not—" he jabbed a clawed finger "—become a Cheddai."
"IF HE COULD BE TURNED..." Lackarse suggested, "HE WOULD BECOME A POWERFUL ALLY..."
Another tense expression flitted across the Emporer's face as he considered the proposal. Slowly and frighteningly, his face widened into a toothy smile. He even began to pant. "I like the way you think! He would be a great ass—" Another grunt. "A great asset." He drew a breath. "Can it be done?"
"HE WILL JOIN US, OR DIE, MASTER." Lackarse gave a deep bow. Above him, there was a hiss from the hologram, followed by a slow and heavy exhalation. The Dork Lord remained bent over, shuddering at the mental image.
Unaware of the fates conspiring against him, Chris had followed the old coot to a crude lean-to erected along the side of one of the many crumbling buildings. It was little more than a set of tarps pitched over a half-laid room, but at least it kept out the rain now pounding from the heavens above. The "house", if one was generous enough to call it that, was filled to the brim with filing cabinets and overflowing with sheets of sketch paper depicting comics and character concepts; but for a single studio table the place was almost completely covered, so much that he could barely see the floor. Skulking about the artisanal mountains were more red foxes than Chris had seen in his life. Jenkins sat in a corner by the entrance petting one as they both watched the weather outside. Likely due to his stoop, the codger had built almost everything at half height, and Chris had to double over to navigate.
"look im sure its delicious," he called to where the elder was working at a makeshift kitchen, "I just dont understand why we cant see thorvald now!!"
"Patience!" the man retorted. "For the Cheddar Monk, it is time to eat as well! Hm? Hmm-hmm!"
Sighing, Chris shuffled over to a small table, scowling at the fox sprawled out on top, who scowled back. "Eat!" laughed the man, "Eat! Hot!" Chris grabbed a beaten metal plate and leaned in to a portable stove on the other end where a pot was simmering. He opened the lid, fighting back the urge to retch as he scooped jelly-like mounds of fish onto his dish. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he brought the spoon to his lips and dared a bite. "Good food! Hm?" called the host, "Good? Hm?" Chris nodded vigorously, but whether he was being polite or his body was going into shock was hard to tell.
"How far away is thorvald?? will it take us long to get ther???"
"Not far," he replied, shuffling over, "Thorvald not far! Hee hee!" He skritched the fox behind the ears as he joined Chris at the table. "Patience! Soon, you will be with him." The boy made way as the man grabbed a plate for himself. "Lutefisk! Hmm-hmm! I cook! Mm-hmm! Hmm-hmm!" Chris looked for some sort of seasoning while his host's back was turned. "Why wish you become Cheddai?"
"Mostly because of my father i guess."
"Oohh! Father! Pooowerful Cheddai was he! Hee-hee! Mmmm, powerful Cheddai."
"Hang on!" snapped Chris, "How could you know my father you dont even know who I am!! I dont even know what Im doing here!!!" He slammed the plate down angrily and the foxes around him jumped up in alarm. "Were wasting our time!!!!"
While Chris shot daggers at everything around him, the elder man sighed, head bowed. In a low, wearied voice, he muttered: "I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience." Chris eyed him suspiciously.
"He will learn patience," the ethereal voice of Alec Guinness drifted through the room; Chris' eyes blew wide and he sobered up at once.
"Hm." With a grunt, the elder turned to face Chris, eyeing him like a stable master sizing up a racehorse. "Much anger in him," he appraised, "Like his father."
"Was I any different, when you taught me?"
He seemed to consider the suggestion, peering at the boy again. "He is not ready."
"Thorvald!" Chris breathed. The man gave a curt nod. "I am ready!! Ali-G—!" he shot a glance up at the ceiling for backup, "I can be a Cheddar Monk!! Ali-G tell him I'm read—" There was a thud as he slammed his head against the brick overhanging that section of tarp.
"Ready, are you?" he asked rhetorically. "What know you of 'ready'?" He grabbed his umbrella and began shuffling back around. "For eight hundred threads have I trained Cheddai! My own council will I keep, on who is to be trained!" He eyed Chris over a third time. "A Cheddar Monk, must have the sharpest timing, the most incisive wit..!" Chris bowed his head, guiltily. Thorvald cast a glance up to the ceiling. "This one, a long time have I watched. All his life, has he looked away. Looked to the future, to the horizon... Never his mind on where he was," he prodded Chris with his umbrella, "Hm? What he was doing! Hm," he scoffed again, "Adventure. Heh! Excitement! Heh! A Cheddar Monk craves not these things." He had shuffled over to the middle of the lean-to and Chris was forced to turn around. "You are reckless!"
"So was I," Alex Guinness interjected, "If you remember."
"He is too young," Thorvald concluded, "Yes: too young to begin the training!"
"But Ive leard so much!!" Chris all but pleaded.
The Cheddar Master sighed, realizing there was no way he was going to get rid of this kid. After a moment, he turned to the metaphorical spatial disposition of Alec Guinness. "Will he finish what he begins?"
"I wont fail you!!" the boy pressed, "I'm not afraid!!!"
"Good," he breathed, eyes narrowing and an unsettlingly predatory expression spreading across his face. "You will be. You will be."
Chris swallowed, suddenly regretting everything he'd ever done in his life.
No longer even looking for a pretext, the Star Destructors blasted their way through the chatroom, practically perma-banning on sight. Against the trollfic, specially-designed Kite Flyers were dropping cherry-bombs and caustic reviews. The muffled blasts echoed through the literary landmine, but that far deep into the gratuitous shock, Princess Kaiser didn't even raise an eyebrow as she slouched in the co-pilot's seat, contemplative. Only once the bombardment ceased did she suddenly look up, and sighted a shadowy shape flit past the cockpit. She slowly righted the seat, rising from the chair as she peered into the inky blackness.
OHFOR—
...goddammit...
A tattooed face with what looked like filed teeth bashed itself against the screen crying some sort of gibberish. The princess recoiled with a startled scream.
"Sir, if I may venture an opinion—" Farnsworth began back in the ship's interior.
"I'm not shopping for opinions, Farnsworth," muttered Fegelein from the other side.
Kaiser sped into the hall. "There's something out there!"
Fegelein and Arkady pulled themselves away from the welding, raising their goggles. "Where?" asked the Obergruppenführer.
"Outside, in the cave."
At that precise moment, there was a sharp screech from the ship's exterior. "There it is!" cried the gentleman, "Listen! Listen!"
"Hentai monsters..." whispered Arkady.
"I'm going out there." Fegelein dropped his tools and made for the supply cabinet.
"Are you crazy?!" asked the Princess, incredulous.
"I just got this bucket back together; I'm not going to let something tear it apart!"
"Augh, then I'm going with you!" she called, making after him.
"I'm going to regret this," muttered the werewolf as he joined the train.
"I think it might be better if I stay behind and guard the ship," Farnsworth muttered. He looked up as a ghastly wail reverberated through the hall. "Oh no..!"
Against all odds, there was something approaching an atmosphere in the belly of the trollfic, and they could make do merely with respirators. The entry ramp descended and Fegelein took a hesitant step onto the surface, eliciting a sticky squelch. Princess and First Mate trailed after him, pistols and machine gun drawn. "The ground sure feels strange," Kaiser muttered as Fegelein crept about the front, Arkady making his way along the rear.
"I take it you've never encountered a hard-core trollfic?" said the officer. "You know what it is, but... the heavy stuff can still get to you." He straightened up, looking around their vicinity. "There's an awful lot of latent anger, too. Unusual for such a large piece..."
"I don't know," she muttered, "I have a bad feeling about this..."
"Yeah..."
There was a hiss and they both spun around. "Watch out!" he called; he loosed a shot and a bizarre figure fell from the Raptor's underbelly. "It's alright!" he called to Arkady, "It's alright..." They walked over to the corpse. It had the general appearance of a human but with bat-like wings for arms, wrinkly, leathery skin and scaly talons in place of legs that gave it the look of some goblin-like harpy. "Yeah, that's what I thought. NESer." He prodded the body with his foot. "Arkady, check the rest of the ship; make sure there are no more attached."
"Yes, sir."
"Chewing on our literary potential."
"NESers?" Kaiser muttered, looking about confused.
"Go on inside," called Fegelein, "We'll clean them off if there are any more."
"I can handle a NES—aaah!" A flock of the beasts swooped in with a patronizing screech and everyone ducked for cover. One made for Arkady's machine gun but he batted it off. "Alt-Hist-tards!" he shouted before loosing a salvo.
There was a sudden tremor, and with frightened squeals the pack dispersed. Fegelein spun around in one of his rare instances of uncertainty. "Wait a minute," he muttered. His eyes darted about, then he shouted: "IOT #1!"
A sudden lurch and the ground tipped 45 degrees, sending Fegelein tumbling against the landing gear. Kaiser nearly fell over backwards, before the ground careened the other way and she collided with the ramp's piston. Fegelein stumbled over, catching her before she fell over again. The three hastily climbed aboard. Farnsworth clung desperately to a bulkhead as the rocking sent everyone sliding back and forth against the hallway. "Skip the pre-flight check, Arkady!" Fegelein shouted as he hastily threw switches on the interior control.
"The Empire's still out there!" the Princess barked, "I don't think it's wise to—"
"No time to discuss this in committee!" he shouted, clawing his way to the cockpit.
"I am not a committee!" she hollered, trailing after him. Farnsworth made to follow, but another lurch sent him toppling into Richard Simmons.
Fegelein took his place in the pilot's seat as the engines revved.
"You can't make the jump to light speed in a flame war!" Kaiser snapped, incredulous, as the cockpit door sealed behind her.
"Sit down, Süße, we're taking off!" The panels around them lit up as the Raptor lifted off, aligning itself upward.
"Chyort," muttered Arkady.
"Look!" cried Farnsworth, joining them at the helm.
"I see it, I see it," the officer growled.
"We're doomed!"
"The cave is collapsing!" Kaiser exclaimed. Ahead of them, a set of yellowed boulders, some large and flat, others razor-sharp, were closing together.
"This is no cave," Fegelein muttered.
"What?"
The Raptor rolled sideways, darting out of the gap just as the halves snapped shut. It soared out of the crater, but the monster wouldn't give up so easily and threw itself forward, its second bite missing by metres. As the ship sailed back into the flame war, the beast let loose a primal roar before slinking back into the abyss, defeated.
You could say it was one...
...hold on, let me find my sunglasses...
Unlucky Moose.
Fegelein peered inside an open spot of panelling, thumping his free hand against the wall with a scowl. "Something fried the circuitry and now it'll only take Direct Current. Of course I'll have to replace the whole thing." He walked over to an opening in the ceiling where Arkady was conducting repairs, passing the bundle up. "Here. And Arkady?"
The first mate poked his head out. "Da?"
"We'll need to replace the power coupling on the out-port." The Obergruppenführer cast a frown back to the console. "I swear the laws of physics are getting weirder every day..."
Further into the ship, Princess Kaiser finished welding a set of wires. She yanked off a dead line as she hung up the welding goggles before closing up the maintenance hatch. She gripped the breaker switch and tried to push it up, grunting in frustration as the lever refused to budge. Fegelein entered silently and moved to help her, but she angrily shrugged him off. "Hey, Your Worship," he sang apologetically, "I'm only trying to help!"
"Would you please stop calling me that?" she sighed, adjusting her grip.
"Sure, Bernie," he nodded nonchalantly.
Kaiser sighed, exasperated. "You make it so difficult sometimes..."
"I know, I really do." She gave another heave, to no effect. "You could be a little nicer, though," he began. "C'mon, admit it: sometimes you think I'm alright."
The Princess turned away from the control panel, kissing her finger where it had slammed into the panel. "Occasionally," she confessed, "Maybe. When you aren't acting like a scoundrel."
Fegelein stepped over, taking her hand in his. "Scoundrel?" he repeated innocently. "Scoundrel?" He broke into his trademark scoundrelly grin as he caressed her hand. "Yes, I can see your point..."
"Stop that," she said quietly.
"Stop what?"
"Stop that!" she repeated, more as chastisement than out of discomfort, "My hands are dirty."
"Well, in place of a towel..." His brow furrowed. "Are you cold? You're trembling."
"I'm not trembling," she lied as Fegelein slowly leaned in.
"You like me because I'm a scoundrel," he surmised. "There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."
"I happen to like nice men..."
"Nice men," he parroted back, their noses almost touching.
"Very nice—"
Whether Fegelein kept going or Kaiser nodded forward was hard to tell; the end result was that princess and gruppenführer locked lips in what could only be described as mutual enthusiasm. –There, you can tell it's romantic from that flowy crescendo.
"Sir! Sir!" Farnsworth practically skipped into the alcove, "I've isolated the—" He took stock of the embrace. "I'll come back later," he murmured.
Barely a moment after he had departed, Fegelein broke off. "I had better go check," he apologized, "Turn your back for five minutes and we might end up in a wormhole to Star Trek." Kaiser watched him go, with just a tinge of disappointment.
Out in the flame war, everyone's favourite spacefaring Ratte tore a swath of new ones as it sailed through the chatroom, adminning at will. Onboard, Darth Lackarse watched three officers on holo-projectors, the leftmost raising his hands in a terrified brace-for-impact before his image shorted out. "That, Lord Lackarse," explained the man in the middle, a wide-eyed elder with a long white beard and cane, "Was the last time they appeared in any of our logs. Considering the amount of damage we've sustained, they must have been perma-banned."
"NO, CAPTAIN," Lackarse replied, "THEY'RE ALIVE. I WANT EVERY 120 THOUSAND OF YOUR SHIPS TO SWEEP THE CHATROOM UNTIL THEY ARE FOUND." The men gave a curt bow, and the projection terminated. Just as Lackarse made for a side hall, Tyo approached him, a little out-of-breath.
"Lord Lackarse," he called.
The Dork Lord turned around, and in spite of himself, the admiral swallowed hard. "YES ADMIRAL, WHAT IS IT?"
He took a breath, mustering his courage. "The Emporer commands you to make contact with him."
"MOVE THE SHIP OUT OF THE CHATROOM," he commanded, side-stepping the officer, "SO THAT WE CAN SEND A CLEAR TRANSMISSION."
"Yes, milord."
It took thirty minutes and untold forumers toasted for that obscene arrowhead to turn about. Lackarse stepped onto a circular dias by his private cubicle, bowing with one knee. A bright gold ring illuminated around him, and a massive holo-projection materialized in the space above. The black cloak did nothing to conceal the inhuman face, a bizarre mix of a lynx, wolf, and a heavily stylized hedgehog. The eyes were comically large, like something out of anime or an old platform computer game, and a mischievous, condescending smile played upon its lips. "Hey, Lackey," called the Emporer of Teh Galaxy in far too cheerful a tone, "'Sup?"
"WHAT IS THY BIDDING, MY MASTER?" asked the Dork Lord with embarrassing reverence.
"A coffee, if it's not too much trouble. But seriously, there's a great disturbance in the Farce."
"I HAVE FELT IT."
"I bet. Must suck when the teenagers drive by blasting Eminem; you probably shake like a big tin can filled with pebbles. Speaking of teen spirit, we've got a new enemy on our hands, a Rebel kid. You know, the one that cased the Doom Sphere?" As he spoke, the hologram shifted, and the faint sound of a zipper could be heard. "I have a funny feeling this boy is none other than Star Wars' Number One Fan."
"HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?" Lackarse asked quietly.
"You're a Dork Lord of the Farce, Lackey," chided the Emporer, "Spend half a minute thinking it over and you should figure it out on your own. My mechanics aren't that obtuse." The Emporer's brow knitted and he gave a grunt. "You know," he remarked casually, "He could destroy us..."
"HE'S JUST A BOY. ALEC GUINNESS CAN NO LONGER HELP HIM."
"The Farce is strong with him," the Emporer sighed, rolling his eyes, "You know what that means. The Son of Starlifter must not—" he jabbed a clawed finger "—become a Cheddai."
"IF HE COULD BE TURNED..." Lackarse suggested, "HE WOULD BECOME A POWERFUL ALLY..."
Another tense expression flitted across the Emporer's face as he considered the proposal. Slowly and frighteningly, his face widened into a toothy smile. He even began to pant. "I like the way you think! He would be a great ass—" Another grunt. "A great asset." He drew a breath. "Can it be done?"
"HE WILL JOIN US, OR DIE, MASTER." Lackarse gave a deep bow. Above him, there was a hiss from the hologram, followed by a slow and heavy exhalation. The Dork Lord remained bent over, shuddering at the mental image.
Unaware of the fates conspiring against him, Chris had followed the old coot to a crude lean-to erected along the side of one of the many crumbling buildings. It was little more than a set of tarps pitched over a half-laid room, but at least it kept out the rain now pounding from the heavens above. The "house", if one was generous enough to call it that, was filled to the brim with filing cabinets and overflowing with sheets of sketch paper depicting comics and character concepts; but for a single studio table the place was almost completely covered, so much that he could barely see the floor. Skulking about the artisanal mountains were more red foxes than Chris had seen in his life. Jenkins sat in a corner by the entrance petting one as they both watched the weather outside. Likely due to his stoop, the codger had built almost everything at half height, and Chris had to double over to navigate.
"look im sure its delicious," he called to where the elder was working at a makeshift kitchen, "I just dont understand why we cant see thorvald now!!"
"Patience!" the man retorted. "For the Cheddar Monk, it is time to eat as well! Hm? Hmm-hmm!"
Sighing, Chris shuffled over to a small table, scowling at the fox sprawled out on top, who scowled back. "Eat!" laughed the man, "Eat! Hot!" Chris grabbed a beaten metal plate and leaned in to a portable stove on the other end where a pot was simmering. He opened the lid, fighting back the urge to retch as he scooped jelly-like mounds of fish onto his dish. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he brought the spoon to his lips and dared a bite. "Good food! Hm?" called the host, "Good? Hm?" Chris nodded vigorously, but whether he was being polite or his body was going into shock was hard to tell.
"How far away is thorvald?? will it take us long to get ther???"
"Not far," he replied, shuffling over, "Thorvald not far! Hee hee!" He skritched the fox behind the ears as he joined Chris at the table. "Patience! Soon, you will be with him." The boy made way as the man grabbed a plate for himself. "Lutefisk! Hmm-hmm! I cook! Mm-hmm! Hmm-hmm!" Chris looked for some sort of seasoning while his host's back was turned. "Why wish you become Cheddai?"
"Mostly because of my father i guess."
"Oohh! Father! Pooowerful Cheddai was he! Hee-hee! Mmmm, powerful Cheddai."
"Hang on!" snapped Chris, "How could you know my father you dont even know who I am!! I dont even know what Im doing here!!!" He slammed the plate down angrily and the foxes around him jumped up in alarm. "Were wasting our time!!!!"
While Chris shot daggers at everything around him, the elder man sighed, head bowed. In a low, wearied voice, he muttered: "I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience." Chris eyed him suspiciously.
"He will learn patience," the ethereal voice of Alec Guinness drifted through the room; Chris' eyes blew wide and he sobered up at once.
"Hm." With a grunt, the elder turned to face Chris, eyeing him like a stable master sizing up a racehorse. "Much anger in him," he appraised, "Like his father."
"Was I any different, when you taught me?"
He seemed to consider the suggestion, peering at the boy again. "He is not ready."
"Thorvald!" Chris breathed. The man gave a curt nod. "I am ready!! Ali-G—!" he shot a glance up at the ceiling for backup, "I can be a Cheddar Monk!! Ali-G tell him I'm read—" There was a thud as he slammed his head against the brick overhanging that section of tarp.
"Ready, are you?" he asked rhetorically. "What know you of 'ready'?" He grabbed his umbrella and began shuffling back around. "For eight hundred threads have I trained Cheddai! My own council will I keep, on who is to be trained!" He eyed Chris over a third time. "A Cheddar Monk, must have the sharpest timing, the most incisive wit..!" Chris bowed his head, guiltily. Thorvald cast a glance up to the ceiling. "This one, a long time have I watched. All his life, has he looked away. Looked to the future, to the horizon... Never his mind on where he was," he prodded Chris with his umbrella, "Hm? What he was doing! Hm," he scoffed again, "Adventure. Heh! Excitement! Heh! A Cheddar Monk craves not these things." He had shuffled over to the middle of the lean-to and Chris was forced to turn around. "You are reckless!"
"So was I," Alex Guinness interjected, "If you remember."
"He is too young," Thorvald concluded, "Yes: too young to begin the training!"
"But Ive leard so much!!" Chris all but pleaded.
The Cheddar Master sighed, realizing there was no way he was going to get rid of this kid. After a moment, he turned to the metaphorical spatial disposition of Alec Guinness. "Will he finish what he begins?"
"I wont fail you!!" the boy pressed, "I'm not afraid!!!"
"Good," he breathed, eyes narrowing and an unsettlingly predatory expression spreading across his face. "You will be. You will be."
Chris swallowed, suddenly regretting everything he'd ever done in his life.
No longer even looking for a pretext, the Star Destructors blasted their way through the chatroom, practically perma-banning on sight. Against the trollfic, specially-designed Kite Flyers were dropping cherry-bombs and caustic reviews. The muffled blasts echoed through the literary landmine, but that far deep into the gratuitous shock, Princess Kaiser didn't even raise an eyebrow as she slouched in the co-pilot's seat, contemplative. Only once the bombardment ceased did she suddenly look up, and sighted a shadowy shape flit past the cockpit. She slowly righted the seat, rising from the chair as she peered into the inky blackness.
OHFOR—
...goddammit...
A tattooed face with what looked like filed teeth bashed itself against the screen crying some sort of gibberish. The princess recoiled with a startled scream.
"Sir, if I may venture an opinion—" Farnsworth began back in the ship's interior.
"I'm not shopping for opinions, Farnsworth," muttered Fegelein from the other side.
Kaiser sped into the hall. "There's something out there!"
Fegelein and Arkady pulled themselves away from the welding, raising their goggles. "Where?" asked the Obergruppenführer.
"Outside, in the cave."
At that precise moment, there was a sharp screech from the ship's exterior. "There it is!" cried the gentleman, "Listen! Listen!"
"Hentai monsters..." whispered Arkady.
"I'm going out there." Fegelein dropped his tools and made for the supply cabinet.
"Are you crazy?!" asked the Princess, incredulous.
"I just got this bucket back together; I'm not going to let something tear it apart!"
"Augh, then I'm going with you!" she called, making after him.
"I'm going to regret this," muttered the werewolf as he joined the train.
"I think it might be better if I stay behind and guard the ship," Farnsworth muttered. He looked up as a ghastly wail reverberated through the hall. "Oh no..!"
Against all odds, there was something approaching an atmosphere in the belly of the trollfic, and they could make do merely with respirators. The entry ramp descended and Fegelein took a hesitant step onto the surface, eliciting a sticky squelch. Princess and First Mate trailed after him, pistols and machine gun drawn. "The ground sure feels strange," Kaiser muttered as Fegelein crept about the front, Arkady making his way along the rear.
"I take it you've never encountered a hard-core trollfic?" said the officer. "You know what it is, but... the heavy stuff can still get to you." He straightened up, looking around their vicinity. "There's an awful lot of latent anger, too. Unusual for such a large piece..."
"I don't know," she muttered, "I have a bad feeling about this..."
"Yeah..."
There was a hiss and they both spun around. "Watch out!" he called; he loosed a shot and a bizarre figure fell from the Raptor's underbelly. "It's alright!" he called to Arkady, "It's alright..." They walked over to the corpse. It had the general appearance of a human but with bat-like wings for arms, wrinkly, leathery skin and scaly talons in place of legs that gave it the look of some goblin-like harpy. "Yeah, that's what I thought. NESer." He prodded the body with his foot. "Arkady, check the rest of the ship; make sure there are no more attached."
"Yes, sir."
"Chewing on our literary potential."
"NESers?" Kaiser muttered, looking about confused.
"Go on inside," called Fegelein, "We'll clean them off if there are any more."
"I can handle a NES—aaah!" A flock of the beasts swooped in with a patronizing screech and everyone ducked for cover. One made for Arkady's machine gun but he batted it off. "Alt-Hist-tards!" he shouted before loosing a salvo.
There was a sudden tremor, and with frightened squeals the pack dispersed. Fegelein spun around in one of his rare instances of uncertainty. "Wait a minute," he muttered. His eyes darted about, then he shouted: "IOT #1!"
A sudden lurch and the ground tipped 45 degrees, sending Fegelein tumbling against the landing gear. Kaiser nearly fell over backwards, before the ground careened the other way and she collided with the ramp's piston. Fegelein stumbled over, catching her before she fell over again. The three hastily climbed aboard. Farnsworth clung desperately to a bulkhead as the rocking sent everyone sliding back and forth against the hallway. "Skip the pre-flight check, Arkady!" Fegelein shouted as he hastily threw switches on the interior control.
"The Empire's still out there!" the Princess barked, "I don't think it's wise to—"
"No time to discuss this in committee!" he shouted, clawing his way to the cockpit.
"I am not a committee!" she hollered, trailing after him. Farnsworth made to follow, but another lurch sent him toppling into Richard Simmons.
Fegelein took his place in the pilot's seat as the engines revved.
"You can't make the jump to light speed in a flame war!" Kaiser snapped, incredulous, as the cockpit door sealed behind her.
"Sit down, Süße, we're taking off!" The panels around them lit up as the Raptor lifted off, aligning itself upward.
"Chyort," muttered Arkady.
"Look!" cried Farnsworth, joining them at the helm.
"I see it, I see it," the officer growled.
"We're doomed!"
"The cave is collapsing!" Kaiser exclaimed. Ahead of them, a set of yellowed boulders, some large and flat, others razor-sharp, were closing together.
"This is no cave," Fegelein muttered.
"What?"
The Raptor rolled sideways, darting out of the gap just as the halves snapped shut. It soared out of the crater, but the monster wouldn't give up so easily and threw itself forward, its second bite missing by metres. As the ship sailed back into the flame war, the beast let loose a primal roar before slinking back into the abyss, defeated.
You could say it was one...
...hold on, let me find my sunglasses...
Unlucky Moose.
Robert Can't
Éponine
*Much Applause*
Civ'ed
I ain't gotta explain a thing
Thor for winner of all the literary awards of the past, present and future pls
e350tb
Stupendously Illogical Englishman
Thor, you're a genius. 
Thorvald of Lym
A Little Sketchy
The murky grey of the ever-present Deewhyoh fog was briefly interrupted by a swarm of macaws gliding through the skeletal superstructure of what might have become a foundry. Dull metal clangs echoed through the husk as Chris, sporting a sweat-soaked undershirt and cargo pants, struggled up a steel chain, Thorvald hanging about his neck. Reaching the top of an open platform he collapsed on the cold surface, gasping for breath. Thorvald kicked him in the shin as though goading a racehorse, and with an agonized groan he struggled back onto his feet, grabbing another chain and swinging across. Unfortunately his hands were so slick that he barely kept from slipping right off it, sliding down the metal vine and back to the ground floor. He struggled to find his balance as the forward momentum threatened to tip him over.
Darting right, he picked his way over debris. His foot caught on an exposed rebar and he found himself falling. He threw out his hands; the inertia sent him somersaulting and he managed to land on his feet with a grunt. Before he could savour the success of his accidental acrobatics, the old man spurred him forward. "Yes, run!" he cried as Chris weaved through rusted storage tanks; "Yeees, a Cheddai's strength flooows from the Farce! But beware the Dork Side! Blue jokes, memes, stereotype: the Dork Side of the Farce are they! Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight... If once you start down the Dork Path, forever will it dominate your destiny! Consume you, it will!" Exhausted, Chris slowed to a stop. "As it did Alec Guinness' apprentice."
"Lackarse," the boy muttered. "is the Dork Side stronger??"
"No! No," the sage replied; "No. Quicker, easier, more seductive."
"But how do i know the good side from the bad!"
"You will know, when you are calm, at peace! Passive... Mmmm, a Cheddar Monk uses the Farce for knowledge and defence," he shook his head, "Never for attack."
"But tell me why I cant"
"No! No," he quickly cut in, "There is no why!" Chris sighed. "Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear your mind of questions." Thorvald hummed meditatively, then climbed down off Chris' back. Jenkins whistled from a little way ahead; they had returned to the plant site's main entrance and Chris made to collect his kit.
A low chord sounded and he hesitated as he slipped on his jacket. Thorvald eyed him sidelong as he poked at pebbles with his umbrella. "THere's something not right here," he muttered. The sage lowered his gaze, seemingly disinterested. "Ifeel cold!" Frightened, he whispered: "Death!"
"That place," said the man, pointing the umbrella to the partially collapsed office a few metres ahead of the boy, "Is strong. With the Dork Side of the Farce. A domain of evil, it is." Fixing Chris with a meaningful stare, he said: "And you must go."
Chris eyed him warily before turning back to the darkened entrance. "Whats in their?"
Thorvald took a moment to reply, turning back to his pebbles. "Only what you take with you."
Chris eyed him, then walked toward the building, putting on his belt. "Your weapons," Thorvald called, "You will not need them." Chris rattled his head the way indignant youths do after being told they're wrong, and fastened his belt. Summoning up his courage, he plunged into the shadowy maw of the
A shriek from beneath him sent him leaping into the air as the fox whose tail he stepped on bolted from the wreckage. Jenkins whistled after him nervously. Thorvald followed Chris' receding outline until it disappeared. "Hmm," he muttered, contemplative.
An iguana crawled out from a hole where the floor had given way into the complex's lower level. Taking a breath, Chris began climbing down, using rusty piping for leverage. Some of them felt soft and slimy; fortunately for his sensibilities he couldn't make them out, wincing as he descended into the murky depths. The room was covered in snippets of Dane Cook performances, and Peter Griffin's obnoxious laugh echoed all around him. Tubing and electrical cables dangled like roots and creepers, image macros slapping against his face. He instinctively moved toward a dull blue glow at the far end, probably leading to the only way out of the unsettling tomb. Hearing a squawk he spun around, but it was only a Komodo dragon downvoting the latest Cartoon Network pilot.
He approached a stone archway, looking oddly sterile and intact against the degeneracy surrounding it. At once, a cold chill ran across Chris' body and he stumbled backwards aswait, what the hell is this? Did the camera budget run out again? Sorry guys, I know it's choppy, but looks like proper playback was a stretch goal. Anyway, the unmistakable silhouette of Darth Lackarse strode into the space immediately ahead, his deep, echo-y respiration at once filling the room and then sucking all the oxygen out, like... dang it, what was that wraith from that fantasy series, you know, the one with the Evil Eye and the short dudes and even though they had Christopher Lee and Ian McKellen, some genius decided to cut the epic wizard fight?Ah damn it, the name'll come to me at like two in the morning. So Lackarse advanced on Chris, and the boy braced for a fight, igniting his plasma foil. The Dork Lord responded in kind, holding forth his crimson blade before launching into a... mind... numbingly... slow... fight... parry... riposte... parry again... then for some reason Lackarse hoisted the foil upwards and Chris took a mad swing at his face, lopping off the helmet with a bright explosion. He looked down as the severed head rolled toward his feet, struck by a strange sense of anticipation. Suddenly the mask burst apart. When the smoke cleared, he found his own face staring back up at him.
Chris screamed, long, hard, and shrill.
Back at the plant entrance, Thorvald sighed forlornly. Jenkins chirrupped inquisitively. "Hm," muttered the Cheddar Master. He held out one of his hands, and the fox deposited a 100-kroner bill.
The real Darth Lackarse was safe and sound aboard the testament to why you don't write blank cheques to R&D, especially if it's building a spaceship. He was conversing with several guns-for-hire whom Tyo eyed with trepidation as he patrolled the work stations below the walkway. "Bounty hunters!" he hissed to a communications officer, "We don't need their scum!"
"If it makes you feel better, that General Sieve or what'shisname prefers to call himself a merc."
"Those rebels won't escape us," the admiral muttered, as does one feigning batting for the other team lest they learn his true allegiance. Turning away from another station he found himself confronted by a pair of dainty paws, claws curled around the edge. Looking up, he found they belonged to a golden-furred feline that looked like she'd just come from the Renfair.
"Hey there, beautiful, I'll be back to pick you up later!" She gave a bright smile and an exaggerated wink. Tyo simply stared, one part flattered and ninety-nine parts deeply unsettled. Fortunately for him, an officer arrived before he needed to reply.
"Sir? We have a priority signal from the Star Destructor Nauru."
"Right," mumbled Tyo, all but bolting from the scene.
In addition to the cat, there were two Frenchmen in glitzy space helmets, a Fremen, Robot B-9, and a thin-bearded man in thick combat armour and a red beret. "THERE WILL BE A SUBSTANTIAL REWARD FOR THE ONE WHO FINDS THE CENTURION RAPTOR," Lackarse briefed as he paraded between them. "YOU ARE FREE TO USE ANY METHODS NECESSARY, BUT I WANT THEM AS THE ARE," he brandished a finger at the last man, "NO PONIFICATIONS." The merc's face turned beet-purple, whole head rattling as every muscle in his body tensed at once; for a moment those next to him thought he might literally explode.
"Lord Lackarse!" called Tyo as the Dork Lord descended to the lower deck; "My Lord, we have them."
The Centurion Raptor did its best to dodge the Nauru's onslaught. "Oh, thank goodness we're coming out of the chatroom!" Farnsworth breathed as the space around the cockpit opened up. The relief overed quickly, though, as a lazor blast struck the ship full-on, sending it lurching hard to starboard.
"Let's never speak of such grammatical horror again," muttered the first mate.
"I'll drink to that," said Fegelein; "Ready for light speed?"
"Always."
Fegelein counted as Arkady primed the systems. "One. Two. Three." He pulled the lever, only to be met with the same taunting propellor stall.
"Sladkiy mat' Meri," Arkady groaned. Princess Kaiser lowered her head, thoroughly disappointed.
"It's not fair," muttered the officer.
"I said read the manual first," the werewolf sang, "But you said"
"The transfer circuits are working," he shot back, "It's not my fault!"
"All Obersts antics and all Obersts schemes," Kaiser sighed.
"It's not my fault!"
The ship rocked from another blast, diving down and out of range of the dorsal battery. "Sir, we just lost the main rear deflector shield!" Farnsworth declared, "One more direct hit on the stern quarter and we're done for!"
"Turn her around," Fegelein ordered.
"Are you crazy?!" Arkady began.
"I said turn her around! I'm putting all power in the front shield."
"You're going to attack them?!" Kaiser cried in utter disbelief.
"Sir," exclaimed the gentleman, "The odds of surviving a direct attack on an Imperial Star Destructor are"
"Shut up!" she snapped.
"Chyort."
Yet Fegelein remained determined. The ship swung around before rapidly accelerating.
"They're moving to attack position," the wide-eyed, bearded captain exclaimed. The Raptor levelled out, bee-lining for the ship's bridge. "Shields up." The little craft dodged the surface fire, and everyone on deck reflexively ducked as it sailed right in front of the windows. "Track them!" he cried, nervously scanning the now-empty space. "They may come around for another pass."
"Captain eduhum," called an officer, "The ship no longer appears on our scopes!"
"They can't have disappeared!" he scoffed, "No ship that small has a cloaking device!"
"Well, there's no trace of them, sir."
"Captain," interjected a signals officer, "Lord Lackarse demands an update on the pursuit."
The captain's face flashed a mix of rage, indignation, and nagging fear. Composing himself, he declared: "Get a shuttle ready. I shall explain their powergaming to Lord Lackarse, and apologize for losing them. Continue to scan the area until I return."
"Yes, Captain eduhum," replied the ship lieutenant. The crew watched him go, silently wondering who would replace him.
Back on Deewhyoh, Chris was engaged in an exercise even Cirque du Soleil would find ambitious. Balancing on his hands as Thorvald balanced on his upturned feet, he struggled to assemble a house of cards using nothing more than his mind. "Use the Farce," the sage murmured, "Yessss..." Jenkins sat a little way off by the pier, idly watching the ship. "Now, the next card. Feel it." Huffing and puffing, he struggled to manoeuvre it into place while simultaneously holding its neighbour support upright. Jenkins, meanwhile, saw the fighter sinking beneath the surface and began whistling urgently. Startled, Chris opened his eyes, immediately losing control of the cards and sending the whole four storeys folding in on themselves. "ConcentraaAAAATE!" Thorvald cried as he and the boy toppled to the ground. Chris winced as he recovered from the knock against the pavement; Thorvald eyed him chastisingly. With an apologetic frown he picked himself up and ran over to Jenkins.
Only the tip of the right wing still poked about the surface. "OH NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he said calmly and in complete control. "We'll never get it out now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"So certain are you!" Thorvald called in a sing-song voice. Chris spun around, shooting daggers. The elder bowed his head with a disappointed sigh. "Always with you it cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?"
"Master building card hoses is one thing this is totally different!!!!!"
"No! No different!" He pounded his umbrella. "Only different in your mind! You must unlearn what you have learned."
Chris wiggled his head. "Alright i'll give it a try!!!"
"No!" The boy spun around. "Try not! Do. Or do not." Thorvald shook his head. "There is no try."
Chris nodded, clearly understanding none of it. Turning back to the ship, he sighed. Closing his eyes he reached out a hand, willing the Farce to lift the ship the same way he'd played the cards. Miraculously, it began to rise immediately. Thorvald watched, wide-eyed at such rapid progress. But the boy was clearly struggling, his arm wavering, and Jenkins' excited notes soon turned melancholy as it sank back into the murky depths and out of sight. The forlorn sage dropped his head.
Chris ground his jaw back and forth, fighting back tears. Returning to Thorvald he collapsed to the ground. "I can't!!!" he panted, "Its too big!!!!"
"Size matters not," replied the Cheddar Master. "Look at me! Judge me by my size, do you? Hm?" The boy wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, since if Thorvald straightened out his spine he'd probably stand a lot taller. Unless he was referring tono! Blue jokes were the Dork Side! He shook his head apologetically. "Hmm. And well you should not! For my ally, is the Farce. And a powerful ally it is!" Thorvald cast a tranquil gaze over their surroundings. "Life creates it. Makes it grow. Its energy... surrounds us, and binds us. Luminous beings are we!" He reached out and pinched the boy's shoulder. "Not this crude matter! You must, feel the Farce around you. Here. Between you. Me. The tree. The rock. Everywhere!" Chris gave a start as a throng of animals silently padded up around them, seemingly out of nowhere. "Yes! Even between, the land, and the ship."
The boy felt an embarrassed flush in his cheeks as the flash mob's eyes fell on him. Trying not to move too fast, he rose to his feet. "You want the impossible!!" he stammered, picking his way out of the gathering to collect his kit.
Thorvald simply stood, staring ahead. Then, with a soft sigh, he bowed his head and stretched out his arm. The water began to broil and Jenkins whistled excitedly. Rolling his eyes, Chris picked himself up and stomped back over. Anger quickly turned to incredulity as his fighter broke the surface once more. With smooth and gentle motion as a conductor leading the adagio movement, the sage guided the ship over the waterfront and set it down on the street. The boy rushed over, running his hand over the underbelly, still not trusting his eyes. Thorvald slowly opened his eyes with a satisfied sigh. After confirming that yes, it was real, Chris jogged back over to his master.
"I" he gasped for breath, "I dont believe it!!!!"
A faint grin played upon the elder man's lips. "That, is why you fail."
Speaking of failure... A shuttle craft resembling a paper airplane deployed from the hangar of a Star Destructor before darting down to... I hope this thing gets blown up by the next episode because I'm running out of ways to lampoon it. Moments later in the hall, a wooden cane clattered to the floor, followed swiftly by the Nauru's commander, KO'd by Lackarse's head-butt. "APOLOGY ACCEPTED, CAPTAIN EDUHUM." He flicked his wrist and two aides hastened over to remove the body as he strolled over to Tyo and a group of officers huddled around a console, coincidentally the same console where the misfortunate admiral had first shown up his predecessor.
"Lord Lackarse," he straightened up, "Our ships have completed their scan of the area and found nothing. If the Centurion Raptor went into light speed, it'll be on the dark side of Dark Side of the Moon by now."
"ALERT ALL COMMANDS," he instructed, "CALCULATE EVERY POSSIBLE DESTINATION ALONG THEIR LAST KNOWN TRAJECTORY."
"Yes, milord. We'll find them."
"DON'T FAIL ME AGAIN," he brandished a finger, "ADMIRAL."
Lackarse turned and walked away, Tyo's face flickering with that reflexive panicked grin. "Alert all commands," he ordered hastily, "Deploy the fleet."
Unbeknownst to said fleet, the quarry was sitting right under its proverbial nose. Perhaps if that gargantuan space-compensation hadn't sucked up all the surplus capital, they might've afforded to put some rear windows into the Star Destructors' control towers so that they'd see the Raptor clinging to the back of the Nauru's. "Gruppenführer Fegelein!" an animated Farnsworth exclaimed, "This time you have gone too far!"
"Ah, hush, you limey," growled the first mate.
"No I will not hush, Arkady! Why doesn't anyone listen to me?!"
Ignoring the banter, Kaiser and the officer observed the passing ships. "The fleet's beginning to break up," Fegelein noted. "Go back and stand by the manual release for the landing claw," he instructed.
Arkady unbuckled and began climbing his way through the cabin, which thanks to the larger ship's gravitational pull sat about ninety degrees downward. "Pardon me, ma'am," he grunted as he practiced the rock-climbing skills he never thought he needed.
"I really don't see how that is going to help!" the gentleman continued to no-one in particular. "Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances! The Empire may be gracious enough"
"Hey Farnsworth," Kaiser began, "It's 4 o'clock somewhere; why don't you put the kettle on?"
"Oh," he mumbled, caught off-guard, "A capital idea, Your Highness!" Faster than they thought they'd ever seen him move before, he bolted from his chair and scrambled up the hallway.
"Thank you," Fegelein sighed.
"What's your next move?"
"Well if they follow standard Imperial procedure they'll dump their garbage before they jump the system to cheat local environmental laws. Then we just float away..."
"With the rest of the garbage," she nodded. "Then what?"
"Then we find a safe port somewhere around here." He turned on a dashboard monitor and began flipping through displays. "Any ideas?"
"Where are we?"
"5minIOT System."
"5minIOTs," she muttered, "There's not much there."
"No... Wait! This is interesting." The princess leaned forward. "HJ!"
"HJ System?" she repeated, dubious.
"HJ's not a system, he's a man," he explained, "hoplitejoe. He's a card-player, gambler, scoundrel; you'd like him."
"Thanks."
"MMMBop's pretty far, but I think we can make it."
"A mining colony?"
"Yeah, a pop rock refinery. HJ conned somebody out of it. Funny, 'cause he's the last authority on music. We go back a long way, HJ and me."
"Can you trust him?"
"No," he replied matter-of-factly, "But he has no love for the Empire, I can tell you that."
There was a lurch and a metal scream and they could feel the ship's balance shifting. "Here we go, Arkady," Fegelein called into the intercom, "Stand by... Detach." The view from the cockpit became dizzying as the Raptor drifted freely away from the capital ship, mingling with the discarded scrap and waste containers.
"You have your moments," Kaiser grinned, "Not many of them, but you do have them." She gave him a peck on the cheek before settling back in her seat. They waited until the Star Destructor blasted out of sight before engaging the engines, looping about and speeding off in the opposite direction. Unseen behind them, another ship gave pursuit. It looked like the DeLorean from Back to the Future because that's exactly what it was, albeit tricked out in so much weaponry that it resembled a fully-armed Airhawk from Streets of SimCity.
Thebounty hunter mercenary finished calibrating his navi-computer before facing forward, scowling at the ship ahead. "I'll show him ponification!" he muttered.
Several minutes later everyone was back in the cockpit, each with a steaming cup of tea. "So..." Kaiser began, "When do we get to MMMBop?"
"A couple weeks," Fegelein muttered innocently, "Assuming no adventures en route."
"Hm."
The minutes dragged on in silence, save for the ambient hum of the ship's systems and the occasional sip and tap of china. Arkady cast a covert glance about the cabin, then in a slow, almost taunting drawl, began: "I spy with my little eye..."
Darting right, he picked his way over debris. His foot caught on an exposed rebar and he found himself falling. He threw out his hands; the inertia sent him somersaulting and he managed to land on his feet with a grunt. Before he could savour the success of his accidental acrobatics, the old man spurred him forward. "Yes, run!" he cried as Chris weaved through rusted storage tanks; "Yeees, a Cheddai's strength flooows from the Farce! But beware the Dork Side! Blue jokes, memes, stereotype: the Dork Side of the Farce are they! Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight... If once you start down the Dork Path, forever will it dominate your destiny! Consume you, it will!" Exhausted, Chris slowed to a stop. "As it did Alec Guinness' apprentice."
"Lackarse," the boy muttered. "is the Dork Side stronger??"
"No! No," the sage replied; "No. Quicker, easier, more seductive."
"But how do i know the good side from the bad!"
"You will know, when you are calm, at peace! Passive... Mmmm, a Cheddar Monk uses the Farce for knowledge and defence," he shook his head, "Never for attack."
"But tell me why I cant"
"No! No," he quickly cut in, "There is no why!" Chris sighed. "Nothing more will I teach you today. Clear your mind of questions." Thorvald hummed meditatively, then climbed down off Chris' back. Jenkins whistled from a little way ahead; they had returned to the plant site's main entrance and Chris made to collect his kit.
A low chord sounded and he hesitated as he slipped on his jacket. Thorvald eyed him sidelong as he poked at pebbles with his umbrella. "THere's something not right here," he muttered. The sage lowered his gaze, seemingly disinterested. "Ifeel cold!" Frightened, he whispered: "Death!"
"That place," said the man, pointing the umbrella to the partially collapsed office a few metres ahead of the boy, "Is strong. With the Dork Side of the Farce. A domain of evil, it is." Fixing Chris with a meaningful stare, he said: "And you must go."
Chris eyed him warily before turning back to the darkened entrance. "Whats in their?"
Thorvald took a moment to reply, turning back to his pebbles. "Only what you take with you."
Chris eyed him, then walked toward the building, putting on his belt. "Your weapons," Thorvald called, "You will not need them." Chris rattled his head the way indignant youths do after being told they're wrong, and fastened his belt. Summoning up his courage, he plunged into the shadowy maw of the
A shriek from beneath him sent him leaping into the air as the fox whose tail he stepped on bolted from the wreckage. Jenkins whistled after him nervously. Thorvald followed Chris' receding outline until it disappeared. "Hmm," he muttered, contemplative.
An iguana crawled out from a hole where the floor had given way into the complex's lower level. Taking a breath, Chris began climbing down, using rusty piping for leverage. Some of them felt soft and slimy; fortunately for his sensibilities he couldn't make them out, wincing as he descended into the murky depths. The room was covered in snippets of Dane Cook performances, and Peter Griffin's obnoxious laugh echoed all around him. Tubing and electrical cables dangled like roots and creepers, image macros slapping against his face. He instinctively moved toward a dull blue glow at the far end, probably leading to the only way out of the unsettling tomb. Hearing a squawk he spun around, but it was only a Komodo dragon downvoting the latest Cartoon Network pilot.
He approached a stone archway, looking oddly sterile and intact against the degeneracy surrounding it. At once, a cold chill ran across Chris' body and he stumbled backwards aswait, what the hell is this? Did the camera budget run out again? Sorry guys, I know it's choppy, but looks like proper playback was a stretch goal. Anyway, the unmistakable silhouette of Darth Lackarse strode into the space immediately ahead, his deep, echo-y respiration at once filling the room and then sucking all the oxygen out, like... dang it, what was that wraith from that fantasy series, you know, the one with the Evil Eye and the short dudes and even though they had Christopher Lee and Ian McKellen, some genius decided to cut the epic wizard fight?Ah damn it, the name'll come to me at like two in the morning. So Lackarse advanced on Chris, and the boy braced for a fight, igniting his plasma foil. The Dork Lord responded in kind, holding forth his crimson blade before launching into a... mind... numbingly... slow... fight... parry... riposte... parry again... then for some reason Lackarse hoisted the foil upwards and Chris took a mad swing at his face, lopping off the helmet with a bright explosion. He looked down as the severed head rolled toward his feet, struck by a strange sense of anticipation. Suddenly the mask burst apart. When the smoke cleared, he found his own face staring back up at him.
Chris screamed, long, hard, and shrill.
Back at the plant entrance, Thorvald sighed forlornly. Jenkins chirrupped inquisitively. "Hm," muttered the Cheddar Master. He held out one of his hands, and the fox deposited a 100-kroner bill.
The real Darth Lackarse was safe and sound aboard the testament to why you don't write blank cheques to R&D, especially if it's building a spaceship. He was conversing with several guns-for-hire whom Tyo eyed with trepidation as he patrolled the work stations below the walkway. "Bounty hunters!" he hissed to a communications officer, "We don't need their scum!"
"If it makes you feel better, that General Sieve or what'shisname prefers to call himself a merc."
"Those rebels won't escape us," the admiral muttered, as does one feigning batting for the other team lest they learn his true allegiance. Turning away from another station he found himself confronted by a pair of dainty paws, claws curled around the edge. Looking up, he found they belonged to a golden-furred feline that looked like she'd just come from the Renfair.
"Hey there, beautiful, I'll be back to pick you up later!" She gave a bright smile and an exaggerated wink. Tyo simply stared, one part flattered and ninety-nine parts deeply unsettled. Fortunately for him, an officer arrived before he needed to reply.
"Sir? We have a priority signal from the Star Destructor Nauru."
"Right," mumbled Tyo, all but bolting from the scene.
In addition to the cat, there were two Frenchmen in glitzy space helmets, a Fremen, Robot B-9, and a thin-bearded man in thick combat armour and a red beret. "THERE WILL BE A SUBSTANTIAL REWARD FOR THE ONE WHO FINDS THE CENTURION RAPTOR," Lackarse briefed as he paraded between them. "YOU ARE FREE TO USE ANY METHODS NECESSARY, BUT I WANT THEM AS THE ARE," he brandished a finger at the last man, "NO PONIFICATIONS." The merc's face turned beet-purple, whole head rattling as every muscle in his body tensed at once; for a moment those next to him thought he might literally explode.
"Lord Lackarse!" called Tyo as the Dork Lord descended to the lower deck; "My Lord, we have them."
The Centurion Raptor did its best to dodge the Nauru's onslaught. "Oh, thank goodness we're coming out of the chatroom!" Farnsworth breathed as the space around the cockpit opened up. The relief overed quickly, though, as a lazor blast struck the ship full-on, sending it lurching hard to starboard.
"Let's never speak of such grammatical horror again," muttered the first mate.
"I'll drink to that," said Fegelein; "Ready for light speed?"
"Always."
Fegelein counted as Arkady primed the systems. "One. Two. Three." He pulled the lever, only to be met with the same taunting propellor stall.
"Sladkiy mat' Meri," Arkady groaned. Princess Kaiser lowered her head, thoroughly disappointed.
"It's not fair," muttered the officer.
"I said read the manual first," the werewolf sang, "But you said"
"The transfer circuits are working," he shot back, "It's not my fault!"
"All Obersts antics and all Obersts schemes," Kaiser sighed.
"It's not my fault!"
The ship rocked from another blast, diving down and out of range of the dorsal battery. "Sir, we just lost the main rear deflector shield!" Farnsworth declared, "One more direct hit on the stern quarter and we're done for!"
"Turn her around," Fegelein ordered.
"Are you crazy?!" Arkady began.
"I said turn her around! I'm putting all power in the front shield."
"You're going to attack them?!" Kaiser cried in utter disbelief.
"Sir," exclaimed the gentleman, "The odds of surviving a direct attack on an Imperial Star Destructor are"
"Shut up!" she snapped.
"Chyort."
Yet Fegelein remained determined. The ship swung around before rapidly accelerating.
"They're moving to attack position," the wide-eyed, bearded captain exclaimed. The Raptor levelled out, bee-lining for the ship's bridge. "Shields up." The little craft dodged the surface fire, and everyone on deck reflexively ducked as it sailed right in front of the windows. "Track them!" he cried, nervously scanning the now-empty space. "They may come around for another pass."
"Captain eduhum," called an officer, "The ship no longer appears on our scopes!"
"They can't have disappeared!" he scoffed, "No ship that small has a cloaking device!"
"Well, there's no trace of them, sir."
"Captain," interjected a signals officer, "Lord Lackarse demands an update on the pursuit."
The captain's face flashed a mix of rage, indignation, and nagging fear. Composing himself, he declared: "Get a shuttle ready. I shall explain their powergaming to Lord Lackarse, and apologize for losing them. Continue to scan the area until I return."
"Yes, Captain eduhum," replied the ship lieutenant. The crew watched him go, silently wondering who would replace him.
Back on Deewhyoh, Chris was engaged in an exercise even Cirque du Soleil would find ambitious. Balancing on his hands as Thorvald balanced on his upturned feet, he struggled to assemble a house of cards using nothing more than his mind. "Use the Farce," the sage murmured, "Yessss..." Jenkins sat a little way off by the pier, idly watching the ship. "Now, the next card. Feel it." Huffing and puffing, he struggled to manoeuvre it into place while simultaneously holding its neighbour support upright. Jenkins, meanwhile, saw the fighter sinking beneath the surface and began whistling urgently. Startled, Chris opened his eyes, immediately losing control of the cards and sending the whole four storeys folding in on themselves. "ConcentraaAAAATE!" Thorvald cried as he and the boy toppled to the ground. Chris winced as he recovered from the knock against the pavement; Thorvald eyed him chastisingly. With an apologetic frown he picked himself up and ran over to Jenkins.
Only the tip of the right wing still poked about the surface. "OH NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he said calmly and in complete control. "We'll never get it out now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"So certain are you!" Thorvald called in a sing-song voice. Chris spun around, shooting daggers. The elder bowed his head with a disappointed sigh. "Always with you it cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?"
"Master building card hoses is one thing this is totally different!!!!!"
"No! No different!" He pounded his umbrella. "Only different in your mind! You must unlearn what you have learned."
Chris wiggled his head. "Alright i'll give it a try!!!"
"No!" The boy spun around. "Try not! Do. Or do not." Thorvald shook his head. "There is no try."
Chris nodded, clearly understanding none of it. Turning back to the ship, he sighed. Closing his eyes he reached out a hand, willing the Farce to lift the ship the same way he'd played the cards. Miraculously, it began to rise immediately. Thorvald watched, wide-eyed at such rapid progress. But the boy was clearly struggling, his arm wavering, and Jenkins' excited notes soon turned melancholy as it sank back into the murky depths and out of sight. The forlorn sage dropped his head.
Chris ground his jaw back and forth, fighting back tears. Returning to Thorvald he collapsed to the ground. "I can't!!!" he panted, "Its too big!!!!"
"Size matters not," replied the Cheddar Master. "Look at me! Judge me by my size, do you? Hm?" The boy wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, since if Thorvald straightened out his spine he'd probably stand a lot taller. Unless he was referring tono! Blue jokes were the Dork Side! He shook his head apologetically. "Hmm. And well you should not! For my ally, is the Farce. And a powerful ally it is!" Thorvald cast a tranquil gaze over their surroundings. "Life creates it. Makes it grow. Its energy... surrounds us, and binds us. Luminous beings are we!" He reached out and pinched the boy's shoulder. "Not this crude matter! You must, feel the Farce around you. Here. Between you. Me. The tree. The rock. Everywhere!" Chris gave a start as a throng of animals silently padded up around them, seemingly out of nowhere. "Yes! Even between, the land, and the ship."
The boy felt an embarrassed flush in his cheeks as the flash mob's eyes fell on him. Trying not to move too fast, he rose to his feet. "You want the impossible!!" he stammered, picking his way out of the gathering to collect his kit.
Thorvald simply stood, staring ahead. Then, with a soft sigh, he bowed his head and stretched out his arm. The water began to broil and Jenkins whistled excitedly. Rolling his eyes, Chris picked himself up and stomped back over. Anger quickly turned to incredulity as his fighter broke the surface once more. With smooth and gentle motion as a conductor leading the adagio movement, the sage guided the ship over the waterfront and set it down on the street. The boy rushed over, running his hand over the underbelly, still not trusting his eyes. Thorvald slowly opened his eyes with a satisfied sigh. After confirming that yes, it was real, Chris jogged back over to his master.
"I" he gasped for breath, "I dont believe it!!!!"
A faint grin played upon the elder man's lips. "That, is why you fail."
Speaking of failure... A shuttle craft resembling a paper airplane deployed from the hangar of a Star Destructor before darting down to... I hope this thing gets blown up by the next episode because I'm running out of ways to lampoon it. Moments later in the hall, a wooden cane clattered to the floor, followed swiftly by the Nauru's commander, KO'd by Lackarse's head-butt. "APOLOGY ACCEPTED, CAPTAIN EDUHUM." He flicked his wrist and two aides hastened over to remove the body as he strolled over to Tyo and a group of officers huddled around a console, coincidentally the same console where the misfortunate admiral had first shown up his predecessor.
"Lord Lackarse," he straightened up, "Our ships have completed their scan of the area and found nothing. If the Centurion Raptor went into light speed, it'll be on the dark side of Dark Side of the Moon by now."
"ALERT ALL COMMANDS," he instructed, "CALCULATE EVERY POSSIBLE DESTINATION ALONG THEIR LAST KNOWN TRAJECTORY."
"Yes, milord. We'll find them."
"DON'T FAIL ME AGAIN," he brandished a finger, "ADMIRAL."
Lackarse turned and walked away, Tyo's face flickering with that reflexive panicked grin. "Alert all commands," he ordered hastily, "Deploy the fleet."
Unbeknownst to said fleet, the quarry was sitting right under its proverbial nose. Perhaps if that gargantuan space-compensation hadn't sucked up all the surplus capital, they might've afforded to put some rear windows into the Star Destructors' control towers so that they'd see the Raptor clinging to the back of the Nauru's. "Gruppenführer Fegelein!" an animated Farnsworth exclaimed, "This time you have gone too far!"
"Ah, hush, you limey," growled the first mate.
"No I will not hush, Arkady! Why doesn't anyone listen to me?!"
Ignoring the banter, Kaiser and the officer observed the passing ships. "The fleet's beginning to break up," Fegelein noted. "Go back and stand by the manual release for the landing claw," he instructed.
Arkady unbuckled and began climbing his way through the cabin, which thanks to the larger ship's gravitational pull sat about ninety degrees downward. "Pardon me, ma'am," he grunted as he practiced the rock-climbing skills he never thought he needed.
"I really don't see how that is going to help!" the gentleman continued to no-one in particular. "Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances! The Empire may be gracious enough"
"Hey Farnsworth," Kaiser began, "It's 4 o'clock somewhere; why don't you put the kettle on?"
"Oh," he mumbled, caught off-guard, "A capital idea, Your Highness!" Faster than they thought they'd ever seen him move before, he bolted from his chair and scrambled up the hallway.
"Thank you," Fegelein sighed.
"What's your next move?"
"Well if they follow standard Imperial procedure they'll dump their garbage before they jump the system to cheat local environmental laws. Then we just float away..."
"With the rest of the garbage," she nodded. "Then what?"
"Then we find a safe port somewhere around here." He turned on a dashboard monitor and began flipping through displays. "Any ideas?"
"Where are we?"
"5minIOT System."
"5minIOTs," she muttered, "There's not much there."
"No... Wait! This is interesting." The princess leaned forward. "HJ!"
"HJ System?" she repeated, dubious.
"HJ's not a system, he's a man," he explained, "hoplitejoe. He's a card-player, gambler, scoundrel; you'd like him."
"Thanks."
"MMMBop's pretty far, but I think we can make it."
"A mining colony?"
"Yeah, a pop rock refinery. HJ conned somebody out of it. Funny, 'cause he's the last authority on music. We go back a long way, HJ and me."
"Can you trust him?"
"No," he replied matter-of-factly, "But he has no love for the Empire, I can tell you that."
There was a lurch and a metal scream and they could feel the ship's balance shifting. "Here we go, Arkady," Fegelein called into the intercom, "Stand by... Detach." The view from the cockpit became dizzying as the Raptor drifted freely away from the capital ship, mingling with the discarded scrap and waste containers.
"You have your moments," Kaiser grinned, "Not many of them, but you do have them." She gave him a peck on the cheek before settling back in her seat. They waited until the Star Destructor blasted out of sight before engaging the engines, looping about and speeding off in the opposite direction. Unseen behind them, another ship gave pursuit. It looked like the DeLorean from Back to the Future because that's exactly what it was, albeit tricked out in so much weaponry that it resembled a fully-armed Airhawk from Streets of SimCity.
The
Several minutes later everyone was back in the cockpit, each with a steaming cup of tea. "So..." Kaiser began, "When do we get to MMMBop?"
"A couple weeks," Fegelein muttered innocently, "Assuming no adventures en route."
"Hm."
The minutes dragged on in silence, save for the ambient hum of the ship's systems and the occasional sip and tap of china. Arkady cast a covert glance about the cabin, then in a slow, almost taunting drawl, began: "I spy with my little eye..."
Robert Can't
Éponine
Another enjoyable chapter!
e350tb
Stupendously Illogical Englishman
What have I done to deserve such a gift today, Thor?
Civ'ed
I ain't gotta explain a thing
luf u 2 bby
Thorvald of Lym
A Little Sketchy
Well, you are literally the only person here who's so much as hinted he'll provide a proper review of the Epilogue...
Thorvald of Lym
A Little Sketchy
This chapter originally covered everything up to the carbon-freeze, but for some stupid reason CFC is giving me a higher character count than WordPerfect, so I had to break it early. Fingers crossed I'll still be able to do the duel in one post.
Jenkins sat upon the rock playing a sprightly tune to the assembled woodland critters as ahead of him Chris did a handstand while telekinetically juggling a set of crates. The boy would've much preferred a quiet work space, but Thorvald insisted that he learn how to perform on a live stage. A comic was nothing without an audience, after all. "Concentrate," breathed Thorvald, "Feel the Farce, flooow! Yeeees..." Jenkins and his patrons soon joined the invisible Ferris wheel. "Good," sighed the sage, "Calm... yeees..." But to look at Chris' face, one would think he was suffering a seizure.
"Through the Farce, things you will see," Thorvald said; "Other places. The future, the past... old friends long gone. Yet still following in the Consulate..."
"Fegelein?!" he began suddenly, "KAISER!!!!" Concentration broken in an instant, the phantom wheel spun apart, a perturbed ocelot slamming into Chris' gut and sending him toppling to the ground. Jenkins issued a salvo of indignant chirrups.
Thorvald sighed vexatedly. "Control, control, you must learn control!"
Chris gasped for breath. "I saw..." his gaze retrieved his sensei, "I saw a city in the clouds!!!"
"Mm," he nodded, "Friends you have there."
The boy's jaw trembled. "They were in pain!!!"
"It is the future you see," he replied matter-of-factly.
"Future????" Thorvald nodded. Chris bounded to his feet in an instant. "Will they DIE?!?!?!?"
Thorvald screwed his eyes shut, contemplating. "Difficult to see," he stated. "Always in motion is the future."
Chris shook his head vigorously. "Ive gotta go to them!!!!!"
"Decide you must, how to serve them best," he called after his student; "If you leave now, help them you could, but..." he narrowed his eyes, "You would destroy all for which they have fought, and suffered."
Chris started once, twice, but in the end conceded to the master's author-like wisdom.
While the boy dwelt beneath the fog of unknown future, the Centurion Raptor sailed above dark pink clouds stretching on to infinity in the upper atmosphere of MMMBop's evening light. Trailing its flanks were peculiar craft that looked like pods from one of those faiground spinny-rides, two linked together by a single metal rod that emitted a blue glow in the middle. Somehow.
"No," Fegelein reported over the radio, "I don't have a landing permit, I'm trying to reach hoplitejoe" The escorts darted in front of the cabin, firing off short bursts as they did. "Halt your small horses and let me explain," he snapped as though it was their fault he'd shown up unannounced.
"You will not deviate from your present course," a pilot replied.
"Rather touchy, aren't they?" muttered Farnsworth.
"I thought you knew this person?" Kaiser hissed.
"Yeah," scoffed Arkady, "Trouble is, Joe knows Fegelein, too."
"Well, that was a long time ago," the officer murmured defensively, "I'm sure he's forgotten about that." The princess gritted her teeth.
Y'know, as sketchy as their predicament is, I can't gush enough about how beautiful it'd be to watch them flying through the clouds. If you've ever been in a commercial airliner and it's overcast below, you'll know precisely what I mean. Plus it's a setting sun, so the whole sky just glows. I wonder if I have any overseas trips coming up...
"Permission granted to land on Platform 327," the pilot returned.
"Thank you," sighed Fegelein. "There's nothing to worry about," he muttered to Kaiser, "We go waaay back, HJ and me."
"Who's worried?" she sniffed.
As the ships broke the cloudscape, the station itself came into view. From their perspective, it was like gazing upon an entire city settled on the head of a gigantic pin, the shaft disappearing into the lower atmosphere. ...Oh jeez, the orchestra brought a choir. Give me a minute, there's something in my eye, I gotta go find a Kleenex®.
...
The Raptor touched down on a circular pad outside a nondescript, featureless building face. The passengers began filing out; Arkady gave a bemused grunt. "Oh," said Farnsworth, looking around, "No-one to meet us."
Kaiser shook her head. "I don't like this."
Fegelein back-tracked instantly. "Well, what would you like?"
"Well," the gentleman offered, "They did let us land..."
"Look," Fegelein shot a suave smile, "Everything's going to be fine. Trust me."
"Heads up," called the first mate. The door slid open and a retinue made its way over.
"See? My friend." Joining Arkady, he muttered: "Keep your eyes open, huh?"
"You're telling me."
"Hey!" called Fegelein, striding forward as the party drew near. At its head was a short, pale-skinned man with curly black hair, a blue long-sleeved shirt with matching gold-trimmed cape, and faded black Trilby. Following shortly behind was a rather curiously-dressed man: his head was smooth-shaven and round bolts protruded from his upper-right forehead; some sort of computer device ringed his skull, covering his ears. He wore a ceremonial chainmail suit that called to mind old Turkish cavalry; painted on the chest was a midnight blue winged unicorn... what would you call that, an alicorn? Pegacorn? Unipeg? While he didn't sport glasses, from a first glance one instinctively recognized him as a farsighted individual.
After him marched a double column of security personnel.
"Why you slimy, patriarchal, no-good cis scum!" the man rattled, drawing level, "You've got a lot of guts checking your privilege here, after what you pulled." Fegelein gestured to himself in mock bewilderment. Our Heroes watched nervously as the man slowly stepped forward. He lurched as though to strike, froze, then grabbed the Obergruppenführer in a tight hug, breaking into a staccato laugh. "How you doin', you old Nazi?" he cried, as behind him the aide signalled for the escort to depart; "So good to see you!.."
"HJ," Arkady stated, moving to join Fegelein.
"Well, he seems very friendly!" Farnsworth declared.
"Yes," Kaiser muttered, "Very friendly."
"What're you doin' here?"
"Repairs," Fegelein thumbed the ship, "I thought you could help me out."
HJ's face fell in an instant. "What have you done to my ship?
"Your ship?" he replied in mock bewilderment, "Remember, you lost her to me fair and square!"
Looking past his old comrade, HJ nodded to the first mate. "And how you doin', Arkady?"
"A'ight," the werewolf replied in his attempt at Yorkshire drawl.
"You still hanging around with this loser?"
"It pays the bills," he smirked. Kaiser came up beside him, Farnsworth slightly behind.
"Hel-lo, what have we here?" asked the man. The princess remained silent, inspecting him warily. "Welcome," he restarted in a professional tone, "I'm hoplitejoe, I'm the administrator of this facility." He stepped forward. "And who might you be?"
"Kaiser," she answered, with a mirthless smile.
"Welcome, Kaiser." He made a show of doffing his hat. Her eyes darted between Fegelein and HJ, suspicious.
"Alright, alright," Fegelein cut in, walking her away, "You old smoothie." Kaiser and the officer shared a grin as they made toward the doorway.
"Hello, sir!" Farnsworth greeted brightly, "I am C. Aubrey Farnsworth, Esquire. My faculties are at... your..." But HJ barely registered his fellow Englishman, following after the woman with dreamy eyes and a dazed grin.
"Ladies before lords," shrugged Arkady, following.
"Well, really!"
"What's wrong with the Raptor?" HJ asked as he caught up.
"Hyperdrive."
"I'll get my SJWs to work on it."
"Good."
He pivoted to Kaiser. "You know that ship saved my life quite a few times! She's the fastest hunk a' junk on the Intarwebz!"
The station interior's breathtaking art deco design was almost completely lost under an unending parade of LED ad screensthe only spot other than the windows not shilled out to corporate sponsorship was where a technician welded a circuit board. "How's the pop rock?" Fegelein asked, "Is it paying off for you?"
"Oh, not as well as I thought. We're a small studio and not very self-sufficient. I've had... equipment problems of every kind, I've had labour difficulties, I'vewhat's so funny?" Fegelein had started chuckling.
"You! Listen to you: you sound like a businessman, a responsible leader! Who'd've thought that, huh?"
HJ grinned himself. "Y'know, seeing you sure brings back a few things."
The men shared a wistful look. Fegelein clapped a hand on HJ's shoulder. "Ja."
"Yeah," he perked up again, "I'm responsible these days. It's the price you pay for being successful."
Following in order were HJ's cyborg aid, Kaiser, sporting an amused grin, Arkady, and Farnsworth, bringing up the rear. He halted as a sliding door opened to his right and out stepped a woman in a blue turtleneck sweater and business suit. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "Nice to see a familiar face!"
"U wot m8?" she snapped, "get #shrekt skrub! Imma PWN j00 wit me 360 n0sc0pe! swer on me mum!!1" She abruptly stormed off.
"How rude!" He turned about as he heard a flute melody from inside the room. "That sounds like a slide whistle in there! I wonder if..!" He shuffled inside. "Hello?" More trills. He walked into the middle of a circular partition and looked around. "How interesting!"
"WHO R U???" snapped a gravelly voice.
"Oh, my!" he mumbled. "Oh! Uhuhterribly sorry," he blubbered, backing away, "I dI didn't mean to intrude! Nononoplease don't get up! NO!" There was a flash and the sound of an airhorn as Farnsworth was blasted backwards. Outside in the hall, Arkady was retracing his steps and rounded the corner just as the door sealed shut.
"Farnsworth's not MLG pro," he muttered in confusion, before turning back down the hall.
Some ridiculous distance away, night had settled on Thorvald's stretch of Deewhyoh. Chris, back in his flight suit, helped Jenkins into his crawlspace on the fighter before climbing into the cockpit. "Chris!" called the Cheddar Master, "You must complete the training!"
"I cant get the vision out of my head!!" he whined, "Their my friends i gotta help them!!!!" His foot slipped and he slid down the ladder onto the ground.
"You must! not! go!" he implored.
"But fegs and kaiser will die if i dont!!!1"
"You don't know that," Alec Guinness' voice echoed. As Chris gazed ahead, his old mentor materialized to Thorvald's right, clad in his old desert robes. "Even Thorvald cannot see their fate."
"But I can help them!!!!!! I can feel the farce!!!!!!"
"But you cannot control it." Frustrated, Chris shook his head. "This is a dangerous time for you. When you will be tempted by the Dork Side of the Farce."
"Yes, yes!" Thorvald piped up, "To Alec Guinness you listen! The cave," he rumbled, "Remember your failure at the cave..!"
"But ive learnd so much since then!!!!" he pressed, "Master Thorvald I promise to return and finish what ive begun!!!!! you have my word!!!!" The sage lowered his head forlornly.
"It is you and your abilities the Emporer wants," Alec Guinness explained, "That is why your friends are made to suffer."
"Thats why I have to go!!!!!!!!!" He turned to fiddle with the bow landing strut.
"Chris, I don't want to lose you to the Emporer the way I lost Lackarse!"
"You won't!!!" He dashed about the underside of the ship making final preparations.
"Stopped they must be," said Thorvald, "On this all depends. Only a fully-trained Cheddar Monk, with the Farce as his ally, will conquer Lackarse, and his Emporer! If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path, as Lackarse did, you will become an agent of evil."
"Patience!" urged Alec Guinness.
"And sacrifice fegs and kaiser?!?!?!?!"
"If you honour what they fight for?" Thorvald replied, "Yes."
"If you choose to face Lackarse, you will do it alone," warned Alec Guinness. "I cannot interfere."
Chris leaned against the ladder; swallowing, he said: "I udnerstand." Thorvald's jaw dropped. The boy cast a glance back, then began climbing. "Jenkins? Fire up the converters."
Thorvald hung his head. Alec Guinness threw out his hands. "Chris!" he called, "Don't give in to hate! That leads to the Dork Side."
"Strong is Lackarse," Thorvald added, "Mind what you have learned! Save you it can!"
"I will!!!!! And ill return!!!!!!! I promise!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The canopy sealed as the craft dusted off. Thorvald sighed as the Cheddar Monks were enveloped in darkness. "Told you I did. Reckless is he. Now, matters are worse."
"That boy is our last hope."
"No," he declared, briefly illuminated by a dull red glow as the X-wing rocketed into the sky, "There is another."
----------------
Oh.
MY God.
Words cannot convey the sublime beauty that is the city in the clouds in mid-afternoon. If heaven was futurepunk, I'm certain it would look like this.
Sadly, Princess Kaiser was far too anxious to appreciate the view from the circular, glass-ceiling top-storey lounge. She had finally changed out of the SPORE jumpsuit into a floor-length maroon dress with a pinkish-beige cloak. Her hair had been redone, two loops anchoring New York style pretzels linking back to a knot topped by a hot cross bun.
The door to an adjoining room opened and Fegelein strode in. "The ship's almost finished," he announced, "Two or three more things and we're in great shape."
"The sooner the better," she huffed, walking over briskly. "Something's wrong here! No-one has seen or heard anything about Farnsworth! He's been gone too long to have gotten lost!"
Fegelein leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "Relax," he cooed, "I'll talk to HJ, see what I can find out."
"I don't trust HJ," she hissed, sliding into a nearby armchair.
"Well I don't trust him either," he sighed, kneeling. "He is my friend. Besides," he murmured, "We'll soon be gone."
Kaiser stared at him for a moment. "Then you're as good as gone, aren't you?"
Fegelein tried to grin nonchalantly, but he didn't have a ready reply.
Meanwhile, several storeys below, Arkady picked his way through a machine shop filled almost to the brim with junk and scrap, the terminus of his sleuthing trail. "Maybe he signed on with a Griersonian film unit," he muttered. He wandered over to a conveyor belt where a bunch of shyguys were tossing the unsalvageable components into an incinerator. He caught sight of several congregated around a figure; it turned out to be Farnsworth, and they were looting his clothes. "OI! /b/tards!" he shouted. The scavengers froze, then tried to scatter. He charged the nearest one, slamming him to the wall and yanking the coat out of his arms. The scene turned into a game of monkey-in-the-middle as the shyguys tossed their loot back and forth, the werewolf trying to intercept, but the ruse quickly imploded when he opted to beat them unconscious instead. Several minutes later he strode into the suite, Farnsworth slung over one shoulder, his clothes over the other. "What happens in MMMBop," he announced.
"What happened?" Kaiser exclaimed as he lay the gentleman down on a chesterfield.
"Don't know. Found him in the underworld."
"Where?" asked Fegelein.
"Junk pile in a machine shop."
"You found him in a junk pile?"
"Da."
"Oh, what a mess," she sighed. Farnsworth had been stripped down to an undershirt and a pair of briefs, dirtied from the room, and the rest of his attire was torn and sullied. "Arkady, do you think you can revive him?"
"Probably," he shrugged.
"HJ's got doctors that can fix him," Fegelein offered.
"No thanks," she said curtly.
There was a soft ping; "Speak of the devil," muttered the first mate as hoplitejoe entered from the hall.
"Sorry, am I interrupting anything?"
They hesitated. "Not really," Kaiser replied, pulling the cloak tighter around herself.
HJ couldn't conceal the dumb grin that enveloped his face. "You look absolutely beautiful." Fegelein slowly slid his hand across his mouth to cover his own smirk. "You truly belong here with us among the clouds."
"Thank you," she muttered diplomatically.
"Build your castles in the air..." Arkady whispered.
"Would you join me for a little refreshment?" he asked, extending his hand.
"Vi nyevyeroyatno!" the werewolf cried.
"Everyone's invited, of course," he quickly added. Fegelein glided up, presenting his own arm to Kaiser. Arkady slowly rose to his feet.
"Compatriot had a wild night?" HJ asked, noticing Farnsworth.
"No problem," Fegelein stated matter-of-factly, "Why?" Shooting his friend an almost accusatory look, he led Kaiser out of the room. HJ's gaze lingered on the strange scene a moment longer before he headed back into the hall.
The station was much more active in the daytime, pedestrian traffic in constant motion through the corridors. Even with full daylight, the flashy ads were a bit overwhelming, and Kaiser kept her eyes fixed on HJ just to keep her brain steady as he recounted the history of the studio. "...So you see, since we're a small operation, we don't fall into the, uh, jurisdiction of the... Empire."
"So you're part of the Artists' Guild, then?" she surmised.
"No, not those homophobic cretinsour operation is niche enough to remain viable as an independent. Which is advantageous for everybody, since, er, our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves."
"Aren't you afraid the Empire's going to find out about this little operation?" quizzed Fegelein, "Amalgamate?"
"It's always been a danger looming patriarchally over everything we've built here," he admitted. "But things have developed that will ensure security"
"That ain't good," Arkady muttered, casting a glance behind him.
They arrived as a sliding set of double doors. "I've just made a deal that'll keep the Empire out of here forever." As he pressed the button to open the doors he glanced toward his friend.
At the head of a small dining table, Darth Lackarse was already rising. "Chyort!" barked the first mate; Kaiser tried to pull Fegelein away but he instinctively drew his Walther, firing three shots that merely bounced off the Dork Lord's outstretched hand. He tried for the left flank but it too was palm-parried. There was a comical slipping sound and the thump of a bass drum as Lackarse used his Farce powers to telekinetically yank the gun out of the officer's hand and into his own.
"WE WOULD BE HONORED, IF YOU WOULD JOIN US." From the far side of the room the bearded mercenary emerged, rifle in hand, scowling as he drew up to Lackarse's left. Our Heroes spun around as a squad of shock troopers clattered in behind, cutting off their escape. At the head was HJ's aide.
"I had no choice," HJ muttered, "They arrived right before you did. I'm sorry."
Kaiser looked from him to Fegelein, who grasped her hand defensively. "I'm sorry, too," he said, emotionless.
"Hentai monsters," mumbled Arkady. The party filed in and Lackarse took his seat; the merc remained standing, gun trained on the Obergruppenführer. Behind them, the doors sealed shut.
Meanwhile, in SPAAAAAAACE!, Chris had entered sight of MMMBop. Jenkins played a flurry of staccato notes. "No, Farnsworths with them," he replied. Another nervous trill. "Just hang on!!!! we're almos there!!!!!!"
Back in the city, Arkady stumbled about cursing wildly, hands clasped firmly over his ears as a major leage gaming mashup blasted through the speakers. He let out an anguished moan as it abruptly cut off. "Silence is vastly underrated," he growled. Sitting down beside the still-unconscious Farnsworth, he set to work repairing the gentleman's clothes using the limited memories of his own mother's needlework. "Alright, Arkady, let's see if you still know how to tie a knot. ...Glad there's no-one else here or I'd never hear the end of that. Damned furries..."
As he rifled through an appropriated sewing kitwhere'd it come from, anyhow? Had the Princess lent it to him? Did the gentleman keep it for emergencies? He honestly couldn't rememberhe nudged Farnsworth's arm. "OhOh my! Oh my!" Arkady gave a start, but the man's eyes remained closed, suggesting he was sleep-talking. "Adada terribly sorry, I dI didn't mean to intrudenononononoplease don't get up! Nooo!"
After a moment he leaned in closer. "Farnsworth?" he whispered, "Farnsworth, are you awake?" He cautiously waved a hand over his face.
"Nooo!" he screamed, before mumbling some gibberish. But he was still asleep. "Shock troopers? Here? We're in danger! I must tell the others! OH NO! I'VE BEEN SHOT!"
In a nearby wing, two soldiers finished strapping Fegelein to a pillar. As Lackarse strode up beside him, the pillar began to descend toward the declassified details of Multipolarity 1. The Obergruppenführer was not known to bleed easily, but the sheer quantity of lies, deceit, karmic contempt, mind-rending doublethink and GM abuse proved such a universal trigger that he was screaming in agony in seconds. Outside the torture chamber, HJ stood with the merc; the former was morose, the latter couldn't wipe the grin from his face if he tried. As Lackarse emerged, HJ stepped forward, his aide snapping to attention. "Lord Lackarse," he started, but the Dork Lord ignored him, approaching the freebooter.
"YOU MAY TAKE GRUPPENFÜHRER FEGELEIN TO ADOLF HITLER AFTER I HAVE CHRISTOS," he stated before proceeding down the hall.
"He's no good to me dead," the merc hissed, trailing after him, HJ and the cyborg in tow.
"HE WILL NOT BE PERMANENTLY DAMAGED."
"Lord Lackarse!" HJ called again with growing impatience, "What about Kaiser and the werewolf?"
Entering an elevator, Lackarse turned around. "THEY MUST NEVER AGAIN LEAVE THIS CITY."
"That was never a condition of our agreement," he snapped, "Nor was giving Fegelein to this bounty hunter!"
"Mercenary," he growled.
"PERHAPS YOU THINK YOU ARE BEING TREATED UNFAIRLY?" he retorted.
HJ backed away, licking his lips. "...No."
"GOOD! IT WOULD BE UNFORTUNATE IF I HAD TO IMPLEMENT UNSKIPPABLE POP-UP ADS." The doors closed and the merc returned back down the hall.
HJ curled his fingers, wishing he could strangle the nearby shock troopers. "This deal is getting worse all the time..."
Jenkins sat upon the rock playing a sprightly tune to the assembled woodland critters as ahead of him Chris did a handstand while telekinetically juggling a set of crates. The boy would've much preferred a quiet work space, but Thorvald insisted that he learn how to perform on a live stage. A comic was nothing without an audience, after all. "Concentrate," breathed Thorvald, "Feel the Farce, flooow! Yeeees..." Jenkins and his patrons soon joined the invisible Ferris wheel. "Good," sighed the sage, "Calm... yeees..." But to look at Chris' face, one would think he was suffering a seizure.
"Through the Farce, things you will see," Thorvald said; "Other places. The future, the past... old friends long gone. Yet still following in the Consulate..."
"Fegelein?!" he began suddenly, "KAISER!!!!" Concentration broken in an instant, the phantom wheel spun apart, a perturbed ocelot slamming into Chris' gut and sending him toppling to the ground. Jenkins issued a salvo of indignant chirrups.
Thorvald sighed vexatedly. "Control, control, you must learn control!"
Chris gasped for breath. "I saw..." his gaze retrieved his sensei, "I saw a city in the clouds!!!"
"Mm," he nodded, "Friends you have there."
The boy's jaw trembled. "They were in pain!!!"
"It is the future you see," he replied matter-of-factly.
"Future????" Thorvald nodded. Chris bounded to his feet in an instant. "Will they DIE?!?!?!?"
Thorvald screwed his eyes shut, contemplating. "Difficult to see," he stated. "Always in motion is the future."
Chris shook his head vigorously. "Ive gotta go to them!!!!!"
"Decide you must, how to serve them best," he called after his student; "If you leave now, help them you could, but..." he narrowed his eyes, "You would destroy all for which they have fought, and suffered."
Chris started once, twice, but in the end conceded to the master's author-like wisdom.
While the boy dwelt beneath the fog of unknown future, the Centurion Raptor sailed above dark pink clouds stretching on to infinity in the upper atmosphere of MMMBop's evening light. Trailing its flanks were peculiar craft that looked like pods from one of those faiground spinny-rides, two linked together by a single metal rod that emitted a blue glow in the middle. Somehow.
"No," Fegelein reported over the radio, "I don't have a landing permit, I'm trying to reach hoplitejoe" The escorts darted in front of the cabin, firing off short bursts as they did. "Halt your small horses and let me explain," he snapped as though it was their fault he'd shown up unannounced.
"You will not deviate from your present course," a pilot replied.
"Rather touchy, aren't they?" muttered Farnsworth.
"I thought you knew this person?" Kaiser hissed.
"Yeah," scoffed Arkady, "Trouble is, Joe knows Fegelein, too."
"Well, that was a long time ago," the officer murmured defensively, "I'm sure he's forgotten about that." The princess gritted her teeth.
Y'know, as sketchy as their predicament is, I can't gush enough about how beautiful it'd be to watch them flying through the clouds. If you've ever been in a commercial airliner and it's overcast below, you'll know precisely what I mean. Plus it's a setting sun, so the whole sky just glows. I wonder if I have any overseas trips coming up...
"Permission granted to land on Platform 327," the pilot returned.
"Thank you," sighed Fegelein. "There's nothing to worry about," he muttered to Kaiser, "We go waaay back, HJ and me."
"Who's worried?" she sniffed.
As the ships broke the cloudscape, the station itself came into view. From their perspective, it was like gazing upon an entire city settled on the head of a gigantic pin, the shaft disappearing into the lower atmosphere. ...Oh jeez, the orchestra brought a choir. Give me a minute, there's something in my eye, I gotta go find a Kleenex®.
...
The Raptor touched down on a circular pad outside a nondescript, featureless building face. The passengers began filing out; Arkady gave a bemused grunt. "Oh," said Farnsworth, looking around, "No-one to meet us."
Kaiser shook her head. "I don't like this."
Fegelein back-tracked instantly. "Well, what would you like?"
"Well," the gentleman offered, "They did let us land..."
"Look," Fegelein shot a suave smile, "Everything's going to be fine. Trust me."
"Heads up," called the first mate. The door slid open and a retinue made its way over.
"See? My friend." Joining Arkady, he muttered: "Keep your eyes open, huh?"
"You're telling me."
"Hey!" called Fegelein, striding forward as the party drew near. At its head was a short, pale-skinned man with curly black hair, a blue long-sleeved shirt with matching gold-trimmed cape, and faded black Trilby. Following shortly behind was a rather curiously-dressed man: his head was smooth-shaven and round bolts protruded from his upper-right forehead; some sort of computer device ringed his skull, covering his ears. He wore a ceremonial chainmail suit that called to mind old Turkish cavalry; painted on the chest was a midnight blue winged unicorn... what would you call that, an alicorn? Pegacorn? Unipeg? While he didn't sport glasses, from a first glance one instinctively recognized him as a farsighted individual.
After him marched a double column of security personnel.
"Why you slimy, patriarchal, no-good cis scum!" the man rattled, drawing level, "You've got a lot of guts checking your privilege here, after what you pulled." Fegelein gestured to himself in mock bewilderment. Our Heroes watched nervously as the man slowly stepped forward. He lurched as though to strike, froze, then grabbed the Obergruppenführer in a tight hug, breaking into a staccato laugh. "How you doin', you old Nazi?" he cried, as behind him the aide signalled for the escort to depart; "So good to see you!.."
"HJ," Arkady stated, moving to join Fegelein.
"Well, he seems very friendly!" Farnsworth declared.
"Yes," Kaiser muttered, "Very friendly."
"What're you doin' here?"
"Repairs," Fegelein thumbed the ship, "I thought you could help me out."
HJ's face fell in an instant. "What have you done to my ship?
"Your ship?" he replied in mock bewilderment, "Remember, you lost her to me fair and square!"
Looking past his old comrade, HJ nodded to the first mate. "And how you doin', Arkady?"
"A'ight," the werewolf replied in his attempt at Yorkshire drawl.
"You still hanging around with this loser?"
"It pays the bills," he smirked. Kaiser came up beside him, Farnsworth slightly behind.
"Hel-lo, what have we here?" asked the man. The princess remained silent, inspecting him warily. "Welcome," he restarted in a professional tone, "I'm hoplitejoe, I'm the administrator of this facility." He stepped forward. "And who might you be?"
"Kaiser," she answered, with a mirthless smile.
"Welcome, Kaiser." He made a show of doffing his hat. Her eyes darted between Fegelein and HJ, suspicious.
"Alright, alright," Fegelein cut in, walking her away, "You old smoothie." Kaiser and the officer shared a grin as they made toward the doorway.
"Hello, sir!" Farnsworth greeted brightly, "I am C. Aubrey Farnsworth, Esquire. My faculties are at... your..." But HJ barely registered his fellow Englishman, following after the woman with dreamy eyes and a dazed grin.
"Ladies before lords," shrugged Arkady, following.
"Well, really!"
"What's wrong with the Raptor?" HJ asked as he caught up.
"Hyperdrive."
"I'll get my SJWs to work on it."
"Good."
He pivoted to Kaiser. "You know that ship saved my life quite a few times! She's the fastest hunk a' junk on the Intarwebz!"
The station interior's breathtaking art deco design was almost completely lost under an unending parade of LED ad screensthe only spot other than the windows not shilled out to corporate sponsorship was where a technician welded a circuit board. "How's the pop rock?" Fegelein asked, "Is it paying off for you?"
"Oh, not as well as I thought. We're a small studio and not very self-sufficient. I've had... equipment problems of every kind, I've had labour difficulties, I'vewhat's so funny?" Fegelein had started chuckling.
"You! Listen to you: you sound like a businessman, a responsible leader! Who'd've thought that, huh?"
HJ grinned himself. "Y'know, seeing you sure brings back a few things."
The men shared a wistful look. Fegelein clapped a hand on HJ's shoulder. "Ja."
"Yeah," he perked up again, "I'm responsible these days. It's the price you pay for being successful."
Following in order were HJ's cyborg aid, Kaiser, sporting an amused grin, Arkady, and Farnsworth, bringing up the rear. He halted as a sliding door opened to his right and out stepped a woman in a blue turtleneck sweater and business suit. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "Nice to see a familiar face!"
"U wot m8?" she snapped, "get #shrekt skrub! Imma PWN j00 wit me 360 n0sc0pe! swer on me mum!!1" She abruptly stormed off.
"How rude!" He turned about as he heard a flute melody from inside the room. "That sounds like a slide whistle in there! I wonder if..!" He shuffled inside. "Hello?" More trills. He walked into the middle of a circular partition and looked around. "How interesting!"
"WHO R U???" snapped a gravelly voice.
"Oh, my!" he mumbled. "Oh! Uhuhterribly sorry," he blubbered, backing away, "I dI didn't mean to intrude! Nononoplease don't get up! NO!" There was a flash and the sound of an airhorn as Farnsworth was blasted backwards. Outside in the hall, Arkady was retracing his steps and rounded the corner just as the door sealed shut.
"Farnsworth's not MLG pro," he muttered in confusion, before turning back down the hall.
Some ridiculous distance away, night had settled on Thorvald's stretch of Deewhyoh. Chris, back in his flight suit, helped Jenkins into his crawlspace on the fighter before climbing into the cockpit. "Chris!" called the Cheddar Master, "You must complete the training!"
"I cant get the vision out of my head!!" he whined, "Their my friends i gotta help them!!!!" His foot slipped and he slid down the ladder onto the ground.
"You must! not! go!" he implored.
"But fegs and kaiser will die if i dont!!!1"
"You don't know that," Alec Guinness' voice echoed. As Chris gazed ahead, his old mentor materialized to Thorvald's right, clad in his old desert robes. "Even Thorvald cannot see their fate."
"But I can help them!!!!!! I can feel the farce!!!!!!"
"But you cannot control it." Frustrated, Chris shook his head. "This is a dangerous time for you. When you will be tempted by the Dork Side of the Farce."
"Yes, yes!" Thorvald piped up, "To Alec Guinness you listen! The cave," he rumbled, "Remember your failure at the cave..!"
"But ive learnd so much since then!!!!" he pressed, "Master Thorvald I promise to return and finish what ive begun!!!!! you have my word!!!!" The sage lowered his head forlornly.
"It is you and your abilities the Emporer wants," Alec Guinness explained, "That is why your friends are made to suffer."
"Thats why I have to go!!!!!!!!!" He turned to fiddle with the bow landing strut.
"Chris, I don't want to lose you to the Emporer the way I lost Lackarse!"
"You won't!!!" He dashed about the underside of the ship making final preparations.
"Stopped they must be," said Thorvald, "On this all depends. Only a fully-trained Cheddar Monk, with the Farce as his ally, will conquer Lackarse, and his Emporer! If you end your training now, if you choose the quick and easy path, as Lackarse did, you will become an agent of evil."
"Patience!" urged Alec Guinness.
"And sacrifice fegs and kaiser?!?!?!?!"
"If you honour what they fight for?" Thorvald replied, "Yes."
"If you choose to face Lackarse, you will do it alone," warned Alec Guinness. "I cannot interfere."
Chris leaned against the ladder; swallowing, he said: "I udnerstand." Thorvald's jaw dropped. The boy cast a glance back, then began climbing. "Jenkins? Fire up the converters."
Thorvald hung his head. Alec Guinness threw out his hands. "Chris!" he called, "Don't give in to hate! That leads to the Dork Side."
"Strong is Lackarse," Thorvald added, "Mind what you have learned! Save you it can!"
"I will!!!!! And ill return!!!!!!! I promise!!!!!!!!!!!!"
The canopy sealed as the craft dusted off. Thorvald sighed as the Cheddar Monks were enveloped in darkness. "Told you I did. Reckless is he. Now, matters are worse."
"That boy is our last hope."
"No," he declared, briefly illuminated by a dull red glow as the X-wing rocketed into the sky, "There is another."
----------------
Oh.
MY God.
Words cannot convey the sublime beauty that is the city in the clouds in mid-afternoon. If heaven was futurepunk, I'm certain it would look like this.
Sadly, Princess Kaiser was far too anxious to appreciate the view from the circular, glass-ceiling top-storey lounge. She had finally changed out of the SPORE jumpsuit into a floor-length maroon dress with a pinkish-beige cloak. Her hair had been redone, two loops anchoring New York style pretzels linking back to a knot topped by a hot cross bun.
The door to an adjoining room opened and Fegelein strode in. "The ship's almost finished," he announced, "Two or three more things and we're in great shape."
"The sooner the better," she huffed, walking over briskly. "Something's wrong here! No-one has seen or heard anything about Farnsworth! He's been gone too long to have gotten lost!"
Fegelein leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "Relax," he cooed, "I'll talk to HJ, see what I can find out."
"I don't trust HJ," she hissed, sliding into a nearby armchair.
"Well I don't trust him either," he sighed, kneeling. "He is my friend. Besides," he murmured, "We'll soon be gone."
Kaiser stared at him for a moment. "Then you're as good as gone, aren't you?"
Fegelein tried to grin nonchalantly, but he didn't have a ready reply.
Meanwhile, several storeys below, Arkady picked his way through a machine shop filled almost to the brim with junk and scrap, the terminus of his sleuthing trail. "Maybe he signed on with a Griersonian film unit," he muttered. He wandered over to a conveyor belt where a bunch of shyguys were tossing the unsalvageable components into an incinerator. He caught sight of several congregated around a figure; it turned out to be Farnsworth, and they were looting his clothes. "OI! /b/tards!" he shouted. The scavengers froze, then tried to scatter. He charged the nearest one, slamming him to the wall and yanking the coat out of his arms. The scene turned into a game of monkey-in-the-middle as the shyguys tossed their loot back and forth, the werewolf trying to intercept, but the ruse quickly imploded when he opted to beat them unconscious instead. Several minutes later he strode into the suite, Farnsworth slung over one shoulder, his clothes over the other. "What happens in MMMBop," he announced.
"What happened?" Kaiser exclaimed as he lay the gentleman down on a chesterfield.
"Don't know. Found him in the underworld."
"Where?" asked Fegelein.
"Junk pile in a machine shop."
"You found him in a junk pile?"
"Da."
"Oh, what a mess," she sighed. Farnsworth had been stripped down to an undershirt and a pair of briefs, dirtied from the room, and the rest of his attire was torn and sullied. "Arkady, do you think you can revive him?"
"Probably," he shrugged.
"HJ's got doctors that can fix him," Fegelein offered.
"No thanks," she said curtly.
There was a soft ping; "Speak of the devil," muttered the first mate as hoplitejoe entered from the hall.
"Sorry, am I interrupting anything?"
They hesitated. "Not really," Kaiser replied, pulling the cloak tighter around herself.
HJ couldn't conceal the dumb grin that enveloped his face. "You look absolutely beautiful." Fegelein slowly slid his hand across his mouth to cover his own smirk. "You truly belong here with us among the clouds."
"Thank you," she muttered diplomatically.
"Build your castles in the air..." Arkady whispered.
"Would you join me for a little refreshment?" he asked, extending his hand.
"Vi nyevyeroyatno!" the werewolf cried.
"Everyone's invited, of course," he quickly added. Fegelein glided up, presenting his own arm to Kaiser. Arkady slowly rose to his feet.
"Compatriot had a wild night?" HJ asked, noticing Farnsworth.
"No problem," Fegelein stated matter-of-factly, "Why?" Shooting his friend an almost accusatory look, he led Kaiser out of the room. HJ's gaze lingered on the strange scene a moment longer before he headed back into the hall.
The station was much more active in the daytime, pedestrian traffic in constant motion through the corridors. Even with full daylight, the flashy ads were a bit overwhelming, and Kaiser kept her eyes fixed on HJ just to keep her brain steady as he recounted the history of the studio. "...So you see, since we're a small operation, we don't fall into the, uh, jurisdiction of the... Empire."
"So you're part of the Artists' Guild, then?" she surmised.
"No, not those homophobic cretinsour operation is niche enough to remain viable as an independent. Which is advantageous for everybody, since, er, our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves."
"Aren't you afraid the Empire's going to find out about this little operation?" quizzed Fegelein, "Amalgamate?"
"It's always been a danger looming patriarchally over everything we've built here," he admitted. "But things have developed that will ensure security"
"That ain't good," Arkady muttered, casting a glance behind him.
They arrived as a sliding set of double doors. "I've just made a deal that'll keep the Empire out of here forever." As he pressed the button to open the doors he glanced toward his friend.
At the head of a small dining table, Darth Lackarse was already rising. "Chyort!" barked the first mate; Kaiser tried to pull Fegelein away but he instinctively drew his Walther, firing three shots that merely bounced off the Dork Lord's outstretched hand. He tried for the left flank but it too was palm-parried. There was a comical slipping sound and the thump of a bass drum as Lackarse used his Farce powers to telekinetically yank the gun out of the officer's hand and into his own.
"WE WOULD BE HONORED, IF YOU WOULD JOIN US." From the far side of the room the bearded mercenary emerged, rifle in hand, scowling as he drew up to Lackarse's left. Our Heroes spun around as a squad of shock troopers clattered in behind, cutting off their escape. At the head was HJ's aide.
"I had no choice," HJ muttered, "They arrived right before you did. I'm sorry."
Kaiser looked from him to Fegelein, who grasped her hand defensively. "I'm sorry, too," he said, emotionless.
"Hentai monsters," mumbled Arkady. The party filed in and Lackarse took his seat; the merc remained standing, gun trained on the Obergruppenführer. Behind them, the doors sealed shut.
Meanwhile, in SPAAAAAAACE!, Chris had entered sight of MMMBop. Jenkins played a flurry of staccato notes. "No, Farnsworths with them," he replied. Another nervous trill. "Just hang on!!!! we're almos there!!!!!!"
Back in the city, Arkady stumbled about cursing wildly, hands clasped firmly over his ears as a major leage gaming mashup blasted through the speakers. He let out an anguished moan as it abruptly cut off. "Silence is vastly underrated," he growled. Sitting down beside the still-unconscious Farnsworth, he set to work repairing the gentleman's clothes using the limited memories of his own mother's needlework. "Alright, Arkady, let's see if you still know how to tie a knot. ...Glad there's no-one else here or I'd never hear the end of that. Damned furries..."
As he rifled through an appropriated sewing kitwhere'd it come from, anyhow? Had the Princess lent it to him? Did the gentleman keep it for emergencies? He honestly couldn't rememberhe nudged Farnsworth's arm. "OhOh my! Oh my!" Arkady gave a start, but the man's eyes remained closed, suggesting he was sleep-talking. "Adada terribly sorry, I dI didn't mean to intrudenononononoplease don't get up! Nooo!"
After a moment he leaned in closer. "Farnsworth?" he whispered, "Farnsworth, are you awake?" He cautiously waved a hand over his face.
"Nooo!" he screamed, before mumbling some gibberish. But he was still asleep. "Shock troopers? Here? We're in danger! I must tell the others! OH NO! I'VE BEEN SHOT!"
In a nearby wing, two soldiers finished strapping Fegelein to a pillar. As Lackarse strode up beside him, the pillar began to descend toward the declassified details of Multipolarity 1. The Obergruppenführer was not known to bleed easily, but the sheer quantity of lies, deceit, karmic contempt, mind-rending doublethink and GM abuse proved such a universal trigger that he was screaming in agony in seconds. Outside the torture chamber, HJ stood with the merc; the former was morose, the latter couldn't wipe the grin from his face if he tried. As Lackarse emerged, HJ stepped forward, his aide snapping to attention. "Lord Lackarse," he started, but the Dork Lord ignored him, approaching the freebooter.
"YOU MAY TAKE GRUPPENFÜHRER FEGELEIN TO ADOLF HITLER AFTER I HAVE CHRISTOS," he stated before proceeding down the hall.
"He's no good to me dead," the merc hissed, trailing after him, HJ and the cyborg in tow.
"HE WILL NOT BE PERMANENTLY DAMAGED."
"Lord Lackarse!" HJ called again with growing impatience, "What about Kaiser and the werewolf?"
Entering an elevator, Lackarse turned around. "THEY MUST NEVER AGAIN LEAVE THIS CITY."
"That was never a condition of our agreement," he snapped, "Nor was giving Fegelein to this bounty hunter!"
"Mercenary," he growled.
"PERHAPS YOU THINK YOU ARE BEING TREATED UNFAIRLY?" he retorted.
HJ backed away, licking his lips. "...No."
"GOOD! IT WOULD BE UNFORTUNATE IF I HAD TO IMPLEMENT UNSKIPPABLE POP-UP ADS." The doors closed and the merc returned back down the hall.
HJ curled his fingers, wishing he could strangle the nearby shock troopers. "This deal is getting worse all the time..."
GenMarshall
High Elven ISB Capt & Ghost Agent
arya126
Squad Leader
No.
5char.
5char.
Obi-one was sad as he looked across his former apprentice "YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE" he cried.
A small puppy looked back at him
"YOU WERE TO BRING BALANCE TO THE FORCE, NOT DESTROY IT"
The puppy looked consumer and dropped a tennis ball at Obi-Ones feet.
Obi-One shook his head "Only a sith deals in absolutes" he drew his lights aberration as it made the *brrz* sound. The puppy stared back and barked happily "Gr@aaaaa@ah" said Obi-One, as he slashed at his former apprentice. For his part, the puppy was more than happy to playfully nip at Obi-Ones heels and bark happily.
Obi-One was desperate so he initiated the self destruction sequence of his livibg room. A volcano emerged and Gen spewing lava. As the duel went on for twenty minutes it soon seemed clear who was the wiiner.
Obi-One stood tall in an almost mocking manner "It's over I have the high ground"
The puppy said no and killed Obi-1
A small puppy looked back at him
"YOU WERE TO BRING BALANCE TO THE FORCE, NOT DESTROY IT"
The puppy looked consumer and dropped a tennis ball at Obi-Ones feet.
Obi-One shook his head "Only a sith deals in absolutes" he drew his lights aberration as it made the *brrz* sound. The puppy stared back and barked happily "Gr@aaaaa@ah" said Obi-One, as he slashed at his former apprentice. For his part, the puppy was more than happy to playfully nip at Obi-Ones heels and bark happily.
Obi-One was desperate so he initiated the self destruction sequence of his livibg room. A volcano emerged and Gen spewing lava. As the duel went on for twenty minutes it soon seemed clear who was the wiiner.
Obi-One stood tall in an almost mocking manner "It's over I have the high ground"
The puppy said no and killed Obi-1
Bair_the_Normal
転輪聖王
redux
Thorvald of Lym
A Little Sketchy
It's funny because in the original cut, I bridged the next scene with
No, I'm not.
If you know the Robot Chicken sketch, then you know I can't top it. Same with the dinner scene.
If you know the Robot Chicken sketch, then you know I can't top it. Same with the dinner scene.
e350tb
Stupendously Illogical Englishman
Cripes I love this.
