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More from jup-reindeer
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So...here I am. Too tired to sleep and on the net. Out of the blue, I ponder if an old mirror site of my original web page still exists.
Sort of...it's in the Wayback Machine. Couldn't find the Tripod pages.
But, hot dog! I found a fan's page that has survived the years. And, he not only has portions of the site, but a whole writing effort that I did with another anonymous writer that I only knew by the handle Cyberwriter. This really reflects my early days of story writing, all right. I mean...1997! Nearly 20 years have passed and it...kind of does feel like forever and a day. ;P
Anyhow, the above gif image is something I whipped up in...I think MS Paint and some gif maker from the days of Windows 3.11. The idea is that you are a space fighter pilot that is operating a Fighter Pod. Normally, this Pod is connected to a bigger ship, where you'd be rotating about on a pillar while shooting at foes during a dangerous mission. Only, at this moment, that Pod would be departing from a star base's docking bay. The gauge package is rather simplified, as this is reflecting what an arcade version of a cockpit could look like.
Anyhow...there's also this written story that I thought was long lost. Since it was preserved, I figured that I would re-post it here...even though it's not really related to any fur bearing creatures. But, here's an inside bit of trivia. In the 'Plight' universe at Snark Foot Station, there is a restaurant run by the PSI 5-2 corporation, tying in this story to the Plight set of stories...if only on a super shallow basis.
Enjoy...
===
Copyright 1997 jup & Cyberwriter
Ron walked down the crowded hallway of Star Base 2859 to meet with his family in their quarters. He hadn't seen them in over four months and was wondering how little Ryan had grown. He made his way to a transport car and stepped in just as the doors closed. The car's female voice announced, "Next stop, Omega Slice. E.T.A., two minutes." He tried to pass the time as the two other passengers, a Rautoo and a Ky-Lo-Buk, silently passed empathic messages of dislike for each others races.
"Welcome to Omega Slice." said the voice as the doors slid open. Ron quickly exited before the stares came to blows and made his way to room OS87. Upon entry, his wife rushed into his arms and kissed him with a deep passion.
"I thought you were dead." she whispered. "Last thing I heard, your ship was under heavy pirate attack."
"Reports were true, Mary." Ron said. "Fighting was heavy in that section. Pirate forces just kept coming and coming. Our shields were being depleted, fast. My weapon systems were forced to pod supply, only. A Zacton concentrated its beams on the command quarters and killed Captain Johnson, taking out most of the ship-based computer with him. Another shot burned out the power relays, which browned out all 3 weapon pods. And, with the shields gone, they swarmed onto the hull of the storage beys and cleaned us out of every food and medical supply that Orchund colony desperately needed. With their plague and all. And, worst of all, they shot Auc'lan's pod as they left. For the fun of it, I think.
After 380 years service in the Ji'ru forces and 12 years in the PSI 5 Corp., she deserved better. Only 8 more months and she could have returned to her 93 offspring. Why, if it hadn't been for O'Brian and his incredible talents of engineering, I probobly wouldn't be standing here, today."
Like a rush of wind, little Ryan comes running around the corner, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Daddy! Daddy!"
"Hey, Tiger." Ron replies as he bends down to pick up his son. "You've been treating your mother right while I've been gone, right? Been getting to bed on time and doing your assignments and everything?"
"Yes, sir." Ryan says in a playful manner.
The evening goes on for a few hours as Ron talks about things he has seen, places he has gone, and such. Then, the message center starts to ding as a message plaque slides out. Ron grabs the plaque and begins to read it. He quickly wishes that it had never come as he begins to read outloud the message's content.
"From: The offices of PSI 5 Corporation, Earth domain. To: Venus Class Weapon's Officer Ron Waielee. You are officially transferred from the S.S. Sierra to the S.S. Roc-du-Plune. Report at 0600 tomorrow in Docking Port 19 to start new assignment. Signed, Arnold H. Rockfield. President of PSI 5 Trading Company."
"They don't miss a trick. Do they?" Ron comments. "Are they so desperate for persons to fill their ship compliments that they can't even give a man a few hours with his family? If they're so rich, why don't they just start buying up droids by the thousand? Surely that is a solution?"
The night marched on, whether Ron wanted it to, or not.
Ron awoke to the blare of a monitor's readout and the loud, chirp of a computer sound.
"Wake up call, initiated." said the voice of the computer. "The current time is 0545. This message is for Ron Waielee. Ron is to report to Docking Port 19 in fifteen minutes. Repeat. Ron is to report to Docking Port 19 in fifteen minutes. Does Ron understand? This message will repeat in 5 seconds."
The voice echoed throughout the sleeping chambers. It's voice had a steadily dreadful tone to it. Quite automated. And, that message. There was no 'Good morning' or 'Is this an inconvenient time to disturb you?' feel to it. More like a jolt to the nervous system. It certainly knew how to state your position amongst your surroundings. And, that is how "they" intended it to be. And, as proof of this, only an evil mind would never installed a snooze sub-routine into the thing.
Ron stirred out of his bed and walked over to the clothing closet machine that was standard equipment in every living quarters aboard the star base. He stepped in and the door closed behind him, automatically. He turned around as a large ring descended around him. The first pass that this ring made emitted a bright light that burned the bed suit off of his body. On the second pass, the ring sterilized him with the same effect as a thorough shower would have done. The third pass sprayed a synthetic polymer product all over him, which quickly formed into a standard station suit. The door opened up, and Ron stepped out. The whole process took only 15 seconds.
Ron kissed Mary as she slept and exited room OS87.
At this time period, the corridors were fairly empty. Ron was able to think without having to worry about navigating through the ever constant flow of a thousand species trying to go the other direction. And think, he did. His mind kept working on the priority of his mission versus his family. He couldn't leave Mary, now that he learned that she was four and a half months pregnant. How would Ryan cope with the new child? On the other hand, the mission is most likely short. A couple of weeks, at most. And, all those colonists, depending on that very important shipment of supplies. All those faceless people caught up in a war that they almost volunteered to be a part of.
Ron continued to ponder the matters at hand as he proceeded to Docking Port 19.
As he walked along the corridor to the docking port he watched the droids clean under the command of the maintenance person. Looking for anything to help take his mind away form the base he noticed a window by the docking port. It is a small window to view nothing. Nothing but the blackness of space that is sometimes hidden by a puzzle piece of a docked ship. There was just a moment to pause and reflect on his position. His reflection and that of others behind him are transparent, not noticing the crew of the ship loading behind him. It was difficult to get a good look at the vessel. She had undergone some modifications with the latest work in contrast with the manufactures sheet work.
"Hey, sailor. You maken the trip with us or just gawking?" An unfamiliar voice loudly disturbed him from his thoughts like a tuning fork.
The time had passed quicker than he realized. He quickly ducked into the waiting area and made his way to the registration desk.
As Ron walked up to the clerk, he signed in on the dotted line that was imprinted on the electronic writing pad. He asked, "Where can I find the PSI 5 shipper Roc-du-Plune?"
"Down the hall. Three doors to your left." the scaley reptile sitting behind the desk replied. "You'd better hurry it up, though. I hear the captain doesn't like his crew to arrive late. A good quality in shipper command staff, so the corporate offices believe."
Ron asks another question to the desk clerk. "By the way, who are all the foot soldiers coming through?"
"Crew of the Military Earth Core Yorktown. Why?"
"Cause, someone called out to me, thinking I was lagging behind."
"Must have been a mistake on their part. Last thing I've heard on the subject is that military and high profit company forces rarely get along. Best you get to your ship before your late."
"O.K. Thanks."
And, with a quick movement, Ron sped down the hallway.
As he walked into Docking Port 19, Ron couldn't help but notice all the reloading activity. Every last square inch of the ship's hull was being packed full of crates by many muscle lifts. And, to the right, was his fellow crew members of six. And, one of them, he snuck up on real quietly.
As he got within two feet of the oversized teddy bear, he softly said, "Can you say Ewok?"
The little creature showed signs of annoyance, began to turn around while replying, "No. Can you say bleeding throat?" and bared it's sharp, pointy teeth.
"At ease, Grolo!" Ron shouted to the fury, little creature that was getting ready to bite off his kneecaps.
Grolo eased off the attack and replied, almost with a relief, "Ron Waielee, I can't believe you'd be here. Should have known. Only you would be brave enough to tease me in that way."
Captain A'lau'chia walks up to his crew and starts making a speech as Ron watches a crane bring down his weapon's pod. He sees that D.I.A.N.E. is on-line and testing all on-board systems in preparation for the journey.
Captain A'lau'chia is a person that is not soon forgotten. His one large bushy eyebrow that traveled from one temple to the other across his eyes like theatrical makeup. His deep voice made certain that no one would mistake his position on any subject. He pulled out a small digital pad with the crew, cargo and orders.
"I am Captain A'lau'chia. I expect everyone to work in a precessional manner. I know some of you have had little time to rest from your previous post, but we need you, now. Those of you who have been observant have noticed some modifications to the ship. These modifications are not common knowledge and I EXPECT to keep it that way. Is this clear?"
A few heads nodded in agreement.
"I said, is this clear?" the stress in the voice commanded than a simple gesture.
"Yes sir" came the voices.
"Due to the modifications you will be required to double up on living quarters. I will leave that to yourselves to decide who will stay with who. Use the ladder on the emergency access tube to get to the upper deck. The lift was removed to accommodate the modifications."
A few moans and grumbles quickly subsided with the aggressive look from the captain.
"I will expect you to have yourselves sorted out. We are leaving in ten minutes. That means we have not time to waste. Once the tug has under way you WILL convene in the mess area for further instructions. Am I being understood?"
This time there was no need to repeat his words.
"Dismissed." The captain walked over to where two figures in suits stood at the entrance way. Where a team of Starguards were assembling.
"What do you think the jar bodies are doing here?"
"Jar bodies?" Ron looked over to the crew member. "You mean jar heads."
"That is the expression." came the sing song tone of the Drimits. "Do you think they are here to court us?"
"You mean escorts us." Ron looks at the pod being finalized by the technicians. "No I don't think so."
Grolo looked at the crew member up and down. Mostly up. This member is taller than Ron. He curled up his nose and sniffed.
Ron noticed one of the other members with a crest he had never seen before. The individual is the tallest of the group. He stood quietly to the side watching everyone. When his visor was locked into his eyes he felt a sense of uneasiness.
"Hay, Grolo, ever see a crest like that before?"
"No not ever."
"He is an Opps Tech."
"Opps Tech. This guy is a long ways away from his type of ship. I thought they worked on the big rigs like a Dreadstar or a Sallict. Those ships are two maybe three times our size."
They took in the tall figure with the short cut hair. Slender build and unusually long legs and arms. He was human but not of the standard characteristics that define the shape of one.
Ron looked over at the third member "so what's your name?"
Grolo continued sniffing the air as thought looking for something.
"I am Dint." the sing song tone once again. "I am a Drimits." Again the sing song tone this time with a note of pride.
"I'm Ron, this is Grolo."
Dint looked down at the fury character.
Then, captain A'lau'chia started a head check as he hearded the crew into the open hatch way of the Roc-du-Plune.
"Mercury Class Navigation and Scanning Officer A9K5." announced the captain, "Approach."
A seven foot tall, chrome bot with six slender arms and a glass dome utilizing a three hundred-sixty degree viewing radius rolled by the other officers and into the ship, simply saying "Present." as it went by A'lau'chia.
"Mars Class Chief Engineer Paul. Come forward."
The slender build man with unusually long legs and arms boarded the ship.
"Opps Tec......"
The man in the helmet, wearing the crest of the Opps Tech., simply gave the captain a hand signal and walked by.
"Mercury Class Weapons Officer Dint. You're next. You got starboard side to defend."
The Drimits walked by and gave a motion of acknowledgement.
"Pluto Class Grolo. Proud to have you come aboard. You get port to protect."
The little guy walked on by.
"Venus Class Weapon's Officer Ron. Are you ready? You're covering top side."
"O.K. by me. It's a nice view up there."
Finally, as Captain A'lau'chia stood back and watched the three weapons pods that the weapon's officers would be sitting in to defend the ship against attack, he stepped in and closed the hatch.
A minute later, an alarm sounded, the docking port was cleared of all persons, it de-pressurized, and the crew of the Roc-du- Plune took their stations as the massive doors slowly parted, exposing the port to the vacuum of space.
The ship's engines came to life with a roar and she started to propel into space.
A9K5 inputted the mathematical equations into the controls and set the heading for a huge device that was floating in space called the Gravitron Ring. As it activated, the stars seemed to warp just a little towards the center of it. The force it created sucked the ship into it quickly and shot it out the other side faster than a bullet. The ship was now in the speed tunnel and was going to be in there for forty-two-two minutes.
During this time, the crew convened in the mess area, as were the captain's orders.
Captain A'lau'chia started to speak almost as soon as everyone had taken a seat.
"I don't care what the 'orders' you think you have recieved were suppose to be. From this point forth, they are to be regarded as false. PSI-5 believes that we are making a delivery run to ETCH-289 for some Crystonite Fuel Cells. In reality, we are going to be apart of a much larger plan. One that involves a coordinated strike on the home world of the Pirateering Nation's governing force, Uni-Globe."
There was some commotion amongst the staff after the captain said that. However, Captain A'lau'chia didn't bother to pause for it.
"Now, some of you may have heard the rumors about Uni-Globe's home world just recently being discovered by an inside spy. I assure you that these rumors are one hundred percent true. When the political forces back on Earth heard the news, not only did they not even try to act on them, they actually began to plan on ways to cover it up. Well, they may be cowards who wish to live in a fool's paradise, secure in the believes that Earth will never be discovered and attacked. But, to anybody who has ever had to put their lives on the line out here for the safety and security of our own people out here, we know that these pirates would stop at nothing to wipe us out."
"Well, I say that this information is the final key in getting what needs to be done. We got the armament. We got the power. We got the surprise element. We got the forces. We got the backing support. And, now we got the knowledge of where to strike, and how. I'm not the only captain to think this way. Once news of the enemies home world spread out, captain's from hundreds of ships, both commercial and military, began to form this attack plan. After all, the politicians weren't going to attack. The Earthan governments weren't going to attack, as they are literally run by the politicians. The government run military forces weren't permitted to attack. For all intents and purposes, none of the commercial forces were ever going to make plans to attack. The private citizen's will never have enough force to attack.
So, that is where we come into the picture. Hundreds of dedicated captains with the backing of thousands of loyal crew members will use the powers given to us by our unsuspecting companies and governments in order to act against our enemies where they won't. I've chosen each one of you via past acts of bravery that have been noted in your records. It is my belief that each and every one of you are as willing to take down the Pirateering Nations as every other person involved in this mission. Do not worry about any disciplinary actions that may take place. Doing so will only take your minds and attentions off of your jobs. Besides, either the mission will go successfully and the forces that be will have no choice but to honor us, or the mission will go down in flames and leave behind no survivors."
"However, before we join the party at UG-HW, we are to collect a heavy payload of StarCrest Bombs at ETCH-289, then approach GE-92 and blow up a shipyard full of the enemies ships and fighters, including ten Star Crushers that are docked there. If we should fail to blow that shipyard out of space, then that will mean all the more support the enemy will have for reinforcements at UG-HW. Even the strongest military support ship is no match for just one of those Star Crushers. Plus, here's a little fact that you may not have heard about. Recently, the S.S. Lexxon was lost to a surprise attack by a Star Crusher in the Asario Quadrant. While the weapon used was no surprise, the way the Crusher approached the S.S. Lexxon was. The Crusher was using some sort of technology never before seen that could visually conceal it's very existance, up until the cannon doors were opened. The Lexxon only had four seconds of reaction time, before she was obliterated by the weapon. If Uni-Globe started attacking our Allied planets, ships and stations with Crushers equipped with this type of stealth, we may lose the war without even knowing where the battle fields were at. As for the modifications done to this ship..."
L.I.S.A., the S.S. Roc-du-Plune's AI computer, sounded a general alarm throughout the ship with this message: "Danger. Danger. Visual anonyme detected at Gravitron Propulsion speeds. Interception course confirmed. All crew report to battle stations. Two minutes until impact situation occurs." Captain A'lau'chia broke off his lecture and yelled out:
"Scramble!"
Every member aboard the Roc-du-Plune hustled out of the mess area and made their way to their stations, as best they could. By the time Captain A'lau'chia was in the Command Office, L.I.S.A. had already mentioned that there was only forty-five seconds left before impact and the internal communications lines were packed with messages about the visual anonyme.
A9K5's message, already twelve seconds old:
"Visual anonyme appears to be a Devistator class, tactical range missile with Gravitron resistance design. If we applied full reverse engine power, missile would impact with Roc-du-Plune's nose instead of engines. Adjustment to hard port would alter Roc-du-Plune's course enough to avoid impact. But, Roc-du-Plune's course would be erratic and safety factor uncalculatable due to lack of pre-destined data."
Paul's message, six seconds old:
"No doubt about it. That warhead will rip us to shreds. Except for visual sensors, I'm unable to get a reading off of it. Which will make shield tracking nearly impossible for the computer. We'll need to do this manually, if at all."
Dint's message, three seconds old:
"Missile is out of arcing range. My AI says that I could nail it...at point-zero-two seconds before impact. The blast would still destroy us."
L.I.S.A.:
"Thirty seconds until impact situation occurs."
Ron's message, one second old:
"I'll cover the manual shielding, Paul. D.I.A.N.E., transfer all manual ship shielding systems to this Pod and bring up imaging sensors."
Paul's message, zero seconds old:
"I recommend we slip out of the Grav-effect by firing off the Vortex Rockets early and take our chances where we wind up at. It may be between the middle of nowhere and nowhere, but we will live a whole lot longer."
No messages were made by the Opps Tech.
L.I.S.A.:
"Twenty-five seconds until impact situation occurs."
Captain A'lau'chia had a hard decision to make and no time to make it in. But, still, he had to make it. It didn't make sense to him how anyone could have made such a calculated attack on them during the Gravitron Slingshot effect. He knew that if he used the Vortex Rockets to form a momentary Gravitron Ring effect to avoid the missile, his ship would be placed out in the middle of nowhere with no way to reach his appointed destination in time. The idea of changing course was tempting. But, every inch of movement to the left or right could mean missing his exiting target point by a thousand miles or more. Not to forget about what might drift into his way...like asteroids, a moon, a planet, or whatever.
A'lau'chia had his ship outfitted with a second set of Vortex Rockets for this mission. While they could be used to return the Roc-du-Plune into the Gravitron Slingshot effect, the effort would be nearly suicidal without a pre-plotted course. And, without a third set of Vortex Rockets, there would be no way to stop, except by applying full reverse force from the engines. (Which would take over nineteen months to initiate a full stop, leaving them located in 'No Man's Land'...and most likely dead from lack of consumable supplies.) Perhaps, they would be extremely lucky and stop in a system that had an established Gravitron Ring. But, those odds were one-in-a-trillion, at least. All the options given to the captain seemed like they had slim success odds, at best. Perhaps, Ron really could operate the shields and block all the missile's effects. Yea, right. And, maybe it was possible to remove a sun without effecting all the planets around it.
The captain reached for the Create Message button and got one final idea. Perhaps, he could use the extra set of Vortex Rockets to form a Gravitron Ring effect in the Missile's path, instead. Problem was, the Vortex Rockets were only designed to be fired in one direction...right in front of the ship's bow. Aiming them would be an impossibility. Or, would it...
L.I.S.A.:
"Twenty seconds until impact situation occurs."
Captain A'lau'chia made his decision and pressed the Create Message button...
That is only like 1/3, at most, of the story. But the rest got lost when the web board was closed down. Here's a summary of the lost part:
It was a story that deals with Stage 25. (Which was about the coordinated assault by both shipping and Millitary Fleets on the home planet of the Pirate Alliance.) The Roc-du-Plune, officially, was heading out for a standard delivery run. But unofficially, they were apart of a strike force that would take out an enemy ship yard full of support craft and Star Crushers. ( Which is why the captain was talking about keeping the modifications all hush-hush.) But, when they arrive at the destination to receive further orders, the Pirates fool them with false information and trick them into making a bad Gravitron Ring jump in the wrong direction. Then, who knows why, the Ring is blown up. (Which is pretty much what happens to the story's plot.)
Their destination was suppose to go to another Ring that would stop them. But, of course, the Ring wasn't there. So, the ship zooms through the Galaxy, out of control. Strange things start to happen aboard the ship during the following weeks and the captain gets really sick. Then, somehow, the ship is captured by a space station tractor beam that is on the verge of a double universe event horizon. The crew boards the station for clues, and that is where the wayward plot ends...thankfully.
Sort of...it's in the Wayback Machine. Couldn't find the Tripod pages.
But, hot dog! I found a fan's page that has survived the years. And, he not only has portions of the site, but a whole writing effort that I did with another anonymous writer that I only knew by the handle Cyberwriter. This really reflects my early days of story writing, all right. I mean...1997! Nearly 20 years have passed and it...kind of does feel like forever and a day. ;P
Anyhow, the above gif image is something I whipped up in...I think MS Paint and some gif maker from the days of Windows 3.11. The idea is that you are a space fighter pilot that is operating a Fighter Pod. Normally, this Pod is connected to a bigger ship, where you'd be rotating about on a pillar while shooting at foes during a dangerous mission. Only, at this moment, that Pod would be departing from a star base's docking bay. The gauge package is rather simplified, as this is reflecting what an arcade version of a cockpit could look like.
Anyhow...there's also this written story that I thought was long lost. Since it was preserved, I figured that I would re-post it here...even though it's not really related to any fur bearing creatures. But, here's an inside bit of trivia. In the 'Plight' universe at Snark Foot Station, there is a restaurant run by the PSI 5-2 corporation, tying in this story to the Plight set of stories...if only on a super shallow basis.
Enjoy...
===
Copyright 1997 jup & Cyberwriter
Ron walked down the crowded hallway of Star Base 2859 to meet with his family in their quarters. He hadn't seen them in over four months and was wondering how little Ryan had grown. He made his way to a transport car and stepped in just as the doors closed. The car's female voice announced, "Next stop, Omega Slice. E.T.A., two minutes." He tried to pass the time as the two other passengers, a Rautoo and a Ky-Lo-Buk, silently passed empathic messages of dislike for each others races.
"Welcome to Omega Slice." said the voice as the doors slid open. Ron quickly exited before the stares came to blows and made his way to room OS87. Upon entry, his wife rushed into his arms and kissed him with a deep passion.
"I thought you were dead." she whispered. "Last thing I heard, your ship was under heavy pirate attack."
"Reports were true, Mary." Ron said. "Fighting was heavy in that section. Pirate forces just kept coming and coming. Our shields were being depleted, fast. My weapon systems were forced to pod supply, only. A Zacton concentrated its beams on the command quarters and killed Captain Johnson, taking out most of the ship-based computer with him. Another shot burned out the power relays, which browned out all 3 weapon pods. And, with the shields gone, they swarmed onto the hull of the storage beys and cleaned us out of every food and medical supply that Orchund colony desperately needed. With their plague and all. And, worst of all, they shot Auc'lan's pod as they left. For the fun of it, I think.
After 380 years service in the Ji'ru forces and 12 years in the PSI 5 Corp., she deserved better. Only 8 more months and she could have returned to her 93 offspring. Why, if it hadn't been for O'Brian and his incredible talents of engineering, I probobly wouldn't be standing here, today."
Like a rush of wind, little Ryan comes running around the corner, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Daddy! Daddy!"
"Hey, Tiger." Ron replies as he bends down to pick up his son. "You've been treating your mother right while I've been gone, right? Been getting to bed on time and doing your assignments and everything?"
"Yes, sir." Ryan says in a playful manner.
The evening goes on for a few hours as Ron talks about things he has seen, places he has gone, and such. Then, the message center starts to ding as a message plaque slides out. Ron grabs the plaque and begins to read it. He quickly wishes that it had never come as he begins to read outloud the message's content.
"From: The offices of PSI 5 Corporation, Earth domain. To: Venus Class Weapon's Officer Ron Waielee. You are officially transferred from the S.S. Sierra to the S.S. Roc-du-Plune. Report at 0600 tomorrow in Docking Port 19 to start new assignment. Signed, Arnold H. Rockfield. President of PSI 5 Trading Company."
"They don't miss a trick. Do they?" Ron comments. "Are they so desperate for persons to fill their ship compliments that they can't even give a man a few hours with his family? If they're so rich, why don't they just start buying up droids by the thousand? Surely that is a solution?"
The night marched on, whether Ron wanted it to, or not.
Ron awoke to the blare of a monitor's readout and the loud, chirp of a computer sound.
"Wake up call, initiated." said the voice of the computer. "The current time is 0545. This message is for Ron Waielee. Ron is to report to Docking Port 19 in fifteen minutes. Repeat. Ron is to report to Docking Port 19 in fifteen minutes. Does Ron understand? This message will repeat in 5 seconds."
The voice echoed throughout the sleeping chambers. It's voice had a steadily dreadful tone to it. Quite automated. And, that message. There was no 'Good morning' or 'Is this an inconvenient time to disturb you?' feel to it. More like a jolt to the nervous system. It certainly knew how to state your position amongst your surroundings. And, that is how "they" intended it to be. And, as proof of this, only an evil mind would never installed a snooze sub-routine into the thing.
Ron stirred out of his bed and walked over to the clothing closet machine that was standard equipment in every living quarters aboard the star base. He stepped in and the door closed behind him, automatically. He turned around as a large ring descended around him. The first pass that this ring made emitted a bright light that burned the bed suit off of his body. On the second pass, the ring sterilized him with the same effect as a thorough shower would have done. The third pass sprayed a synthetic polymer product all over him, which quickly formed into a standard station suit. The door opened up, and Ron stepped out. The whole process took only 15 seconds.
Ron kissed Mary as she slept and exited room OS87.
At this time period, the corridors were fairly empty. Ron was able to think without having to worry about navigating through the ever constant flow of a thousand species trying to go the other direction. And think, he did. His mind kept working on the priority of his mission versus his family. He couldn't leave Mary, now that he learned that she was four and a half months pregnant. How would Ryan cope with the new child? On the other hand, the mission is most likely short. A couple of weeks, at most. And, all those colonists, depending on that very important shipment of supplies. All those faceless people caught up in a war that they almost volunteered to be a part of.
Ron continued to ponder the matters at hand as he proceeded to Docking Port 19.
As he walked along the corridor to the docking port he watched the droids clean under the command of the maintenance person. Looking for anything to help take his mind away form the base he noticed a window by the docking port. It is a small window to view nothing. Nothing but the blackness of space that is sometimes hidden by a puzzle piece of a docked ship. There was just a moment to pause and reflect on his position. His reflection and that of others behind him are transparent, not noticing the crew of the ship loading behind him. It was difficult to get a good look at the vessel. She had undergone some modifications with the latest work in contrast with the manufactures sheet work.
"Hey, sailor. You maken the trip with us or just gawking?" An unfamiliar voice loudly disturbed him from his thoughts like a tuning fork.
The time had passed quicker than he realized. He quickly ducked into the waiting area and made his way to the registration desk.
As Ron walked up to the clerk, he signed in on the dotted line that was imprinted on the electronic writing pad. He asked, "Where can I find the PSI 5 shipper Roc-du-Plune?"
"Down the hall. Three doors to your left." the scaley reptile sitting behind the desk replied. "You'd better hurry it up, though. I hear the captain doesn't like his crew to arrive late. A good quality in shipper command staff, so the corporate offices believe."
Ron asks another question to the desk clerk. "By the way, who are all the foot soldiers coming through?"
"Crew of the Military Earth Core Yorktown. Why?"
"Cause, someone called out to me, thinking I was lagging behind."
"Must have been a mistake on their part. Last thing I've heard on the subject is that military and high profit company forces rarely get along. Best you get to your ship before your late."
"O.K. Thanks."
And, with a quick movement, Ron sped down the hallway.
As he walked into Docking Port 19, Ron couldn't help but notice all the reloading activity. Every last square inch of the ship's hull was being packed full of crates by many muscle lifts. And, to the right, was his fellow crew members of six. And, one of them, he snuck up on real quietly.
As he got within two feet of the oversized teddy bear, he softly said, "Can you say Ewok?"
The little creature showed signs of annoyance, began to turn around while replying, "No. Can you say bleeding throat?" and bared it's sharp, pointy teeth.
"At ease, Grolo!" Ron shouted to the fury, little creature that was getting ready to bite off his kneecaps.
Grolo eased off the attack and replied, almost with a relief, "Ron Waielee, I can't believe you'd be here. Should have known. Only you would be brave enough to tease me in that way."
Captain A'lau'chia walks up to his crew and starts making a speech as Ron watches a crane bring down his weapon's pod. He sees that D.I.A.N.E. is on-line and testing all on-board systems in preparation for the journey.
Captain A'lau'chia is a person that is not soon forgotten. His one large bushy eyebrow that traveled from one temple to the other across his eyes like theatrical makeup. His deep voice made certain that no one would mistake his position on any subject. He pulled out a small digital pad with the crew, cargo and orders.
"I am Captain A'lau'chia. I expect everyone to work in a precessional manner. I know some of you have had little time to rest from your previous post, but we need you, now. Those of you who have been observant have noticed some modifications to the ship. These modifications are not common knowledge and I EXPECT to keep it that way. Is this clear?"
A few heads nodded in agreement.
"I said, is this clear?" the stress in the voice commanded than a simple gesture.
"Yes sir" came the voices.
"Due to the modifications you will be required to double up on living quarters. I will leave that to yourselves to decide who will stay with who. Use the ladder on the emergency access tube to get to the upper deck. The lift was removed to accommodate the modifications."
A few moans and grumbles quickly subsided with the aggressive look from the captain.
"I will expect you to have yourselves sorted out. We are leaving in ten minutes. That means we have not time to waste. Once the tug has under way you WILL convene in the mess area for further instructions. Am I being understood?"
This time there was no need to repeat his words.
"Dismissed." The captain walked over to where two figures in suits stood at the entrance way. Where a team of Starguards were assembling.
"What do you think the jar bodies are doing here?"
"Jar bodies?" Ron looked over to the crew member. "You mean jar heads."
"That is the expression." came the sing song tone of the Drimits. "Do you think they are here to court us?"
"You mean escorts us." Ron looks at the pod being finalized by the technicians. "No I don't think so."
Grolo looked at the crew member up and down. Mostly up. This member is taller than Ron. He curled up his nose and sniffed.
Ron noticed one of the other members with a crest he had never seen before. The individual is the tallest of the group. He stood quietly to the side watching everyone. When his visor was locked into his eyes he felt a sense of uneasiness.
"Hay, Grolo, ever see a crest like that before?"
"No not ever."
"He is an Opps Tech."
"Opps Tech. This guy is a long ways away from his type of ship. I thought they worked on the big rigs like a Dreadstar or a Sallict. Those ships are two maybe three times our size."
They took in the tall figure with the short cut hair. Slender build and unusually long legs and arms. He was human but not of the standard characteristics that define the shape of one.
Ron looked over at the third member "so what's your name?"
Grolo continued sniffing the air as thought looking for something.
"I am Dint." the sing song tone once again. "I am a Drimits." Again the sing song tone this time with a note of pride.
"I'm Ron, this is Grolo."
Dint looked down at the fury character.
Then, captain A'lau'chia started a head check as he hearded the crew into the open hatch way of the Roc-du-Plune.
"Mercury Class Navigation and Scanning Officer A9K5." announced the captain, "Approach."
A seven foot tall, chrome bot with six slender arms and a glass dome utilizing a three hundred-sixty degree viewing radius rolled by the other officers and into the ship, simply saying "Present." as it went by A'lau'chia.
"Mars Class Chief Engineer Paul. Come forward."
The slender build man with unusually long legs and arms boarded the ship.
"Opps Tec......"
The man in the helmet, wearing the crest of the Opps Tech., simply gave the captain a hand signal and walked by.
"Mercury Class Weapons Officer Dint. You're next. You got starboard side to defend."
The Drimits walked by and gave a motion of acknowledgement.
"Pluto Class Grolo. Proud to have you come aboard. You get port to protect."
The little guy walked on by.
"Venus Class Weapon's Officer Ron. Are you ready? You're covering top side."
"O.K. by me. It's a nice view up there."
Finally, as Captain A'lau'chia stood back and watched the three weapons pods that the weapon's officers would be sitting in to defend the ship against attack, he stepped in and closed the hatch.
A minute later, an alarm sounded, the docking port was cleared of all persons, it de-pressurized, and the crew of the Roc-du- Plune took their stations as the massive doors slowly parted, exposing the port to the vacuum of space.
The ship's engines came to life with a roar and she started to propel into space.
A9K5 inputted the mathematical equations into the controls and set the heading for a huge device that was floating in space called the Gravitron Ring. As it activated, the stars seemed to warp just a little towards the center of it. The force it created sucked the ship into it quickly and shot it out the other side faster than a bullet. The ship was now in the speed tunnel and was going to be in there for forty-two-two minutes.
During this time, the crew convened in the mess area, as were the captain's orders.
Captain A'lau'chia started to speak almost as soon as everyone had taken a seat.
"I don't care what the 'orders' you think you have recieved were suppose to be. From this point forth, they are to be regarded as false. PSI-5 believes that we are making a delivery run to ETCH-289 for some Crystonite Fuel Cells. In reality, we are going to be apart of a much larger plan. One that involves a coordinated strike on the home world of the Pirateering Nation's governing force, Uni-Globe."
There was some commotion amongst the staff after the captain said that. However, Captain A'lau'chia didn't bother to pause for it.
"Now, some of you may have heard the rumors about Uni-Globe's home world just recently being discovered by an inside spy. I assure you that these rumors are one hundred percent true. When the political forces back on Earth heard the news, not only did they not even try to act on them, they actually began to plan on ways to cover it up. Well, they may be cowards who wish to live in a fool's paradise, secure in the believes that Earth will never be discovered and attacked. But, to anybody who has ever had to put their lives on the line out here for the safety and security of our own people out here, we know that these pirates would stop at nothing to wipe us out."
"Well, I say that this information is the final key in getting what needs to be done. We got the armament. We got the power. We got the surprise element. We got the forces. We got the backing support. And, now we got the knowledge of where to strike, and how. I'm not the only captain to think this way. Once news of the enemies home world spread out, captain's from hundreds of ships, both commercial and military, began to form this attack plan. After all, the politicians weren't going to attack. The Earthan governments weren't going to attack, as they are literally run by the politicians. The government run military forces weren't permitted to attack. For all intents and purposes, none of the commercial forces were ever going to make plans to attack. The private citizen's will never have enough force to attack.
So, that is where we come into the picture. Hundreds of dedicated captains with the backing of thousands of loyal crew members will use the powers given to us by our unsuspecting companies and governments in order to act against our enemies where they won't. I've chosen each one of you via past acts of bravery that have been noted in your records. It is my belief that each and every one of you are as willing to take down the Pirateering Nations as every other person involved in this mission. Do not worry about any disciplinary actions that may take place. Doing so will only take your minds and attentions off of your jobs. Besides, either the mission will go successfully and the forces that be will have no choice but to honor us, or the mission will go down in flames and leave behind no survivors."
"However, before we join the party at UG-HW, we are to collect a heavy payload of StarCrest Bombs at ETCH-289, then approach GE-92 and blow up a shipyard full of the enemies ships and fighters, including ten Star Crushers that are docked there. If we should fail to blow that shipyard out of space, then that will mean all the more support the enemy will have for reinforcements at UG-HW. Even the strongest military support ship is no match for just one of those Star Crushers. Plus, here's a little fact that you may not have heard about. Recently, the S.S. Lexxon was lost to a surprise attack by a Star Crusher in the Asario Quadrant. While the weapon used was no surprise, the way the Crusher approached the S.S. Lexxon was. The Crusher was using some sort of technology never before seen that could visually conceal it's very existance, up until the cannon doors were opened. The Lexxon only had four seconds of reaction time, before she was obliterated by the weapon. If Uni-Globe started attacking our Allied planets, ships and stations with Crushers equipped with this type of stealth, we may lose the war without even knowing where the battle fields were at. As for the modifications done to this ship..."
L.I.S.A., the S.S. Roc-du-Plune's AI computer, sounded a general alarm throughout the ship with this message: "Danger. Danger. Visual anonyme detected at Gravitron Propulsion speeds. Interception course confirmed. All crew report to battle stations. Two minutes until impact situation occurs." Captain A'lau'chia broke off his lecture and yelled out:
"Scramble!"
Every member aboard the Roc-du-Plune hustled out of the mess area and made their way to their stations, as best they could. By the time Captain A'lau'chia was in the Command Office, L.I.S.A. had already mentioned that there was only forty-five seconds left before impact and the internal communications lines were packed with messages about the visual anonyme.
A9K5's message, already twelve seconds old:
"Visual anonyme appears to be a Devistator class, tactical range missile with Gravitron resistance design. If we applied full reverse engine power, missile would impact with Roc-du-Plune's nose instead of engines. Adjustment to hard port would alter Roc-du-Plune's course enough to avoid impact. But, Roc-du-Plune's course would be erratic and safety factor uncalculatable due to lack of pre-destined data."
Paul's message, six seconds old:
"No doubt about it. That warhead will rip us to shreds. Except for visual sensors, I'm unable to get a reading off of it. Which will make shield tracking nearly impossible for the computer. We'll need to do this manually, if at all."
Dint's message, three seconds old:
"Missile is out of arcing range. My AI says that I could nail it...at point-zero-two seconds before impact. The blast would still destroy us."
L.I.S.A.:
"Thirty seconds until impact situation occurs."
Ron's message, one second old:
"I'll cover the manual shielding, Paul. D.I.A.N.E., transfer all manual ship shielding systems to this Pod and bring up imaging sensors."
Paul's message, zero seconds old:
"I recommend we slip out of the Grav-effect by firing off the Vortex Rockets early and take our chances where we wind up at. It may be between the middle of nowhere and nowhere, but we will live a whole lot longer."
No messages were made by the Opps Tech.
L.I.S.A.:
"Twenty-five seconds until impact situation occurs."
Captain A'lau'chia had a hard decision to make and no time to make it in. But, still, he had to make it. It didn't make sense to him how anyone could have made such a calculated attack on them during the Gravitron Slingshot effect. He knew that if he used the Vortex Rockets to form a momentary Gravitron Ring effect to avoid the missile, his ship would be placed out in the middle of nowhere with no way to reach his appointed destination in time. The idea of changing course was tempting. But, every inch of movement to the left or right could mean missing his exiting target point by a thousand miles or more. Not to forget about what might drift into his way...like asteroids, a moon, a planet, or whatever.
A'lau'chia had his ship outfitted with a second set of Vortex Rockets for this mission. While they could be used to return the Roc-du-Plune into the Gravitron Slingshot effect, the effort would be nearly suicidal without a pre-plotted course. And, without a third set of Vortex Rockets, there would be no way to stop, except by applying full reverse force from the engines. (Which would take over nineteen months to initiate a full stop, leaving them located in 'No Man's Land'...and most likely dead from lack of consumable supplies.) Perhaps, they would be extremely lucky and stop in a system that had an established Gravitron Ring. But, those odds were one-in-a-trillion, at least. All the options given to the captain seemed like they had slim success odds, at best. Perhaps, Ron really could operate the shields and block all the missile's effects. Yea, right. And, maybe it was possible to remove a sun without effecting all the planets around it.
The captain reached for the Create Message button and got one final idea. Perhaps, he could use the extra set of Vortex Rockets to form a Gravitron Ring effect in the Missile's path, instead. Problem was, the Vortex Rockets were only designed to be fired in one direction...right in front of the ship's bow. Aiming them would be an impossibility. Or, would it...
L.I.S.A.:
"Twenty seconds until impact situation occurs."
Captain A'lau'chia made his decision and pressed the Create Message button...
That is only like 1/3, at most, of the story. But the rest got lost when the web board was closed down. Here's a summary of the lost part:
It was a story that deals with Stage 25. (Which was about the coordinated assault by both shipping and Millitary Fleets on the home planet of the Pirate Alliance.) The Roc-du-Plune, officially, was heading out for a standard delivery run. But unofficially, they were apart of a strike force that would take out an enemy ship yard full of support craft and Star Crushers. ( Which is why the captain was talking about keeping the modifications all hush-hush.) But, when they arrive at the destination to receive further orders, the Pirates fool them with false information and trick them into making a bad Gravitron Ring jump in the wrong direction. Then, who knows why, the Ring is blown up. (Which is pretty much what happens to the story's plot.)
Their destination was suppose to go to another Ring that would stop them. But, of course, the Ring wasn't there. So, the ship zooms through the Galaxy, out of control. Strange things start to happen aboard the ship during the following weeks and the captain gets really sick. Then, somehow, the ship is captured by a space station tractor beam that is on the verge of a double universe event horizon. The crew boards the station for clues, and that is where the wayward plot ends...thankfully.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Miscellaneous
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 333 x 403px
File Size 19.3 kB
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