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Eastpointe, Michigan, United States
Graduate of CCS. All around creative person, science enthusiast, technological adept, heavy metal killing machine.

Monday, November 10, 2008

From the past...Part 2...

Part 2 to the previously posted short story. Still kind of funny after 4 years of sitting on my harddrive.


Untitled (Sequel to Reverse Abduction)

“Stardate: 2-4-148,002 and a half. I have been in command of the experimental vessel for what seems like a lifetime of two weeks. The crew, a pair of bumbling dolts who could not complete a mission of even the most undire urgentudness...”
That's the new commander; he likes to prattle on like that. We received him a couple weeks ago and almost everyday he gives that same speech to the ship's recorder. Little does he know the ship's recorder has been broken for at least a month. My partner, Clyde, said we should not tell him, thinks it's funny as hell...which it is.
“...this is Captain Fortudius Guile, signing off.”
Clyde was shuddering, trying not to laugh out loud at the new captain. After some fourteen days or so you would think it would get old, but there is just something so hilarious about a broad shouldered, heroic figure talking into a broken recorder.
“Ensign Guilderwitz,” the captain called to my partner, “what's on the roster today? Are we going to battle the forces of the Bluenoosian Nebula?”
My partner rolled his eyes, “No, sir.”
“Destroy the Beast of Reticulon Four?”
“Not exactly, sir.”
“Launch a surprise attack on the Armies of Quaq?”
“Not quite, sir. Our next mission is to collect specimens.”
The captain looked at the floor, “Are the specimens what I think they are?”
“Yes, sir,” my partner said in an almost malicious glee at the captain's current look, “we're going to collect cattle.”
We had failed to complete a fairly simple mission because of a bad judgment call my partner, Clyde Guilderwitz, had made. Clyde had taken a human's sign of confusion and wonder as a questionable threat. I will never forget how the smug look on his face was wiped clean off when the review board asked, “If this probing was supposed to be some sort of punishment for them 'mocking you'. How are they going to remember their lesson after you used the Mind Eraser machine?”
He did not have a reply; his face just sank when he just realized his logic error. So, as punishment, the review board gave us a captain to oversee our work, it seemed more like the review board just wanted to get him out of the way. He, too, was given a demotion, relieved of his military command for a carpet bombing error. Apparently, that area of the neutral zone was a threat to him.
“First Officer Rosenbeeble,” the captain said standing up, inflating his chest and raising a finger, “set a course for the nearest cow infestered wide expanse.”
He pointed to me, but I was not at the controls of the ship, Clyde was. Captain Fortudius obviously failed to read the instruction pamphlet to our experimental vessel. I glanced over to Clyde who was again shuddering with held-in laughter.
The captain shot me a look, so I quickly turned around with a 'yes, sir' and pretended to enter commands in. Had I actually hit any buttons, the machine I was at would have churned out a cup of expresso. Across the pilot room, Clyde punched in the coordinates to a field we commonly used to collect cow specimens.
We took a break while the ship cruised on autopilot to its location. The captain left the pilot's room to use the waste disposal unit.
“I'm never going to get used to him calling me 'First Officer',” I said to my partner.
“I know, he keeps calling me Ensign for some reason,” Clyde replied with a frustrated.
“Do you think he realizes we're not a military ship?”
“Well, I don't think he realizes much,” he said with a small giggle, “but with that ugly, gold, spandex, long-sleeved, t-shirt on, I wouldn't doubt he think he's commanding a military ship.”
“Well at least First Officer outranks Ensign,” I said with a smirk.
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“Nah, Ensign is like way higher than First Officer. I mean there aren't any numbers on it, it's special.”
“I'm the First Officer, which means that no one is in front of me.”
“But Ensign sounds way more prestigious.”
We continued arguing back and forth until the captain came back, some forty-five minutes later.

We hovered over the field, with the outer lights off so we did not draw attention, looking for the light round shape of a cow below.
“Ensign Guilderwitz,” the captain said pointing to Clyde, “go man the Grabbinator Beam.”
Clyde locked the controls over the target cow. The captain's lack of knowledge about the ship usually meant that Clyde ended up doing double the work while I got to sit back and relax. The captain went with Clyde to the third room on the ship, the retrieval room.
Clyde started the retrieval beam; it hummed to life and warmed up to bring the cattle on board. I could see the glow of the beam out of the front window. I thought this was going to be a simple assignment, as we had done this enough times in the past weeks. But suddenly, the ship lurched and the beam flickered.
I went to the diagnostic's panel in the pilot room. Three errors appeared under the retrieval room's column:
Beam Malfunction
Beam Power Reserves Low
Connectivity Errors
Nothing too serious, but the beam was broken. Clyde turned the beam's power off and the captain hurried to the pilot room, a panicked look on his face.
“Ahhhhhh!! What's going on!?” he shouted, “Are we going down?! Oh, I'm too young and pretty and important to die!!”
“Sir, it's just a beam power malfunction. Probably wear-and-tear from the heavy use it's been under in the past couple of weeks. It should only need a maintenance check or some wires replaced.”
The captain stopped and straightened out, his usual smug look returning to his face, “Of course, I knew that, I was just simulated a panicked captain to test your decision making skills.”
Clyde came back from the retrieval room and said, “The beam's out, wear-and-tear?”
I nodded in agreement.
Clyde turned to the captain, “Oh and thanks for the assistance back there, Captain. It's really reassuring when your commander screams, 'We're going to die. We're going to die' and runs from the room.”
“That was a test, ensign,” the captain said quickly, “I needed to see your courage under fire.”
“I thought it was 'decision making skills',” I replied.
“Uhhhh,” the captain quickly changed subjects, “that doesn't matter, what matters now is the mission of dire urgentudness. You two must go out there and get a cow, and bring it back here.”
“You're kidding,” Clyde said slumping his shoulders.
“Those are your order. First Officer, take us down.”
Clyde moved the ship towards the edge of the large field and landed where the field met the trees. The walk to the cattle was longer but the ship would not stick-out on the horizon this way.
The three of us stood at the ship's door, in the back of the retrieval room, it was about as wide as the room itself. This made it easy to bring in new equipment or varying sized specimens.
The captain started, “Who knows what you'll find out on this cruel, brutish landscape. There could be dangers at every turn and it requires a being of the most-up-most couagousnessity. It requires not only strength of spirit but also determined leadership. That's why I have decided to stay and man the ship while you too go get that specimen. After all, a captain should stay with his ship. Now go get that cow.”
He turned and walked to the waste disposal unit.

When we came upon a cow, the ship was tiny on the tree line.
“How're we going to move this damn thing?” Clyde said, clearly unhappy at the fact that we were stuck outside. “If that dumb ship weren't broken we wouldn't have to be out here.”
“Calm down,” I said quietly, “don't make so much noise and help me.”
“With what?” Clyde said, confused.
“Pushing this cow, I think it'll move if we push it.”
Clyde scowled and said, “I doubt this'll work.”
He got behind the cow with me and we started pushing. The cow did not budge. No matter how hard we pushed or how we pushed, it was not moving. We tried with our hands forward and arms locked. We tried our shoulders, digging our feet into the soggy ground. We tried running at full speed into the back of the cow, but all that resulted in was Clyde bouncing off it and face-planting into the dirt.
“Alright! That's it!” Clyde struggled to his feet, “I know exactly how to get this thing moving!”
“Oh, no,” I said knowing his idea.
“I'm going to probe it!!”
“What is it with you and probing?” I questioned but, of course, no answer. Clyde was off in his own little world.
He looked at me with a smirk and gleam in his eye. He held his right arm up, where a strap holding his favorite device rested. I could hear the ad for that damn thing, the announcer speaking in a forced overly excited voice:
The Probe-O-Matic! For the alien on the move, when you just can't bring a full probing machine with you! It's the Probe-O-Matic! Compact, portable, and completely useful for your probing needs. You've tried the rest, now try the best! The Probe-O-Matic! From the makers of the Probe-ulator and the Probe-itizer Plus.
Clyde clicked the Probe-O-Matic on and stood behind the cow.
“Don't do this,” I said, attempting to bring Clyde out of his 'probing trance', “let's just go back to the ship, we can get a cow after we get the ship fixed.”
Nothing could get to Clyde. He flipped the probing stick of the Probe-O-Matic forward and lifted the cow's small tail up.
Suddenly, before he could start, two bright lights appeared behind us. They were approaching fast, the roaring machine the lights were attached to came closer and closer. We were paralyzed by fear or wonder we stood staring at the approaching lights, which stopped in front of us. Behind them all I could see were the metal beast's sides opening and dark humanoid stepped out.
“Humans!” Clyde shouted, “We gotta get out of here!”
I snapped back to reality as the dark figures moved in front of the lights. One had a long tube against his shoulder, probably a weapon, it resembled one of our blasters only it was not brightly colored. They were screaming in a language I could not understand.
Clyde grabbed my arm, “We have got to MOVE!”
The human raised his weapon and pointed it at us. My legs unlocked and we bolted back to the ship. The human blasted the ground behind us. We were a bit faster than the humans, probably due to our smaller size. The weapon the human had kept us moving as he fired it, exploding small parts of the ground behind us.
We got back to the ship and slammed the door shut behind us. We could hear the humans shouting outside, in that language I could not understand. They kept enough distance from the ship, and the weapon was not going off. Safe.
The captain emerged from the front of the ship, “Men! You're back...where's the cow.”
I was catching my breath, “Humans...huff....came...puff...had to run.”
“I see,” the captain said, “well it seems that we have a battle on our hands.”
“What?!” Clyde said in a 'I can't believe you just said that' voice.
“Today, Earth has declared war and we will respond in kind. First Officer, take this.”
He handed me a small blaster, “Sir, I'm not a soldier, I don't know how to fight.”
“Listen First Officer,” Fortudius started, “there comes a time in every alien's life when they must put their life on the line for their captain. And for the both of you that ti---” SMASH!!!
The captain fell face first to the floor. Clyde was standing behind him with one of the spare pipes used for the ship's plumbing in his hand, it was bent in the shape of the Captain's head.
“I've been waitin' to do that all mission!” Clyde said putting the Large Stick-O-Matic down.
“Great Clyde, what do we do now? You beaned the captain!”
“Uhhh, we'd better take off first, those humans are still out there,” Clyde said heading for the pilot room.
“Great,” I said to myself following him, hopping over the unconscious Fortudious. “I wonder how many demerits I'll get for this.”
Clyde started the ship and it took off slowly, rising above the trees. He flashed the outside lights in an attempt to startle the humans.
“So where are we gonna go?” I asked Clyde.
He was setting a course and said. “To one of our Earth bases, I'm sure they'll understand. I doubt many can put up with Fortudius. We can just drop him off, make repairs, and get a new assignment.”
“Maybe, but what base, Clyde?”
“The one in the place the humans call 'Nevada'.”

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