[Spaceship Zero] Q-Ship (actually updated 19 May 2007)
- Thread starter Capellan
- Start date
) is on December 27th.
KidCthulhu
First Post
Capellan said:
Of course it's a wonderful life with ray guns. It's even a better life with plasma cannons..
Ao the Overkitty
First Post
You need to post faster Capellan. ^_^
Keep the goodness coming.
Keep the goodness coming.
Capellan
Explorer
"Blast Off!" - Part 20
S'Ondra gapes.
"Could you get him to repeat zat, leibchen?" Gustav is fussing with a variety of multi-coloured wires, "I zink I have my translation device almost ready."
Finally, the Princess closes her mouth, and shakes her head emphatically.
"No."
"No?" Gustav blinks, "Really, Leichen, I did not zink it would be so ha-"
"No?" the Venusian male belows, raising his club, "What mean you, no?"
"Oh!" Gustav beams. "Ze translator vorks! Vy is he so upset, leibchen?"
Fury, on the other hand, thinks enough like a prehistoric Venusian savage to know exactly why the chief is upset. Smoothly, he draws his atomic pistol and unleashes a blast. The beam strikes the club squarely. For a moment, the gnarled wood glows white, and then the whole thing vaporises, leaving only a faintly smoking stub in the Venusian's hand.
All hell breaks loose.
Screaming Venusians run in all directions, shouting and waving their arms in terror. "Demons!" they cry, again and again, the translation coming through as a confused and tinny sounding babble from the Doctor's machine.
"We're not demons!" S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "Come one - you're embarrassing our people here ..."
"We not demons!" Archie bellows, his voice somehow amplified by the tiny translation device. The sheer volume of his announcement brings the chaos to a shattering halt. Seizing the moment, he raises his arms and unleashes a mighty pillar of plasma, which blazes high into the sky, "We Gods!"
Suddenly, the Q-shippers find themselves surrounded by a horde of prostrate Venusians, all bowing and fawning.
"That's right!" Fury strikes a dramatic pose. "We're gods! And we're here to bring you the gift of ..." he casts around wildly for an idea, then notices several smouldering remains of Archie's display, "... the gift of fire!"
"And hygiene." The robot adds, "We also bring you the gift of hygiene."
"Uh ... and hygiene." Fury shoots Archie a look that speaks volumes: Don't help.
"Now," the Captain continues, staring at the cowering natives, "in exchange for these gifts, you will do as we say, or we will blow you back to the stone-age ... back out of the stone-age, to whatever came before it."
"And mops." Archie adds, "We also bring them mops."
S'Ondra stamps her foot,
"I can't believe you're treating my people like this!" she exclaims, "Surely you Space Force must have some of directive against interfering with a primitive race this way?"
Fury pauses, mentally ticking off the 1,273 clauses of the Space Force Regulations.
"No." he announces at last, "It's pretty much carte blanche with the natives." Suddenly, his eye falls on Savage S'Ondra, who cowers nearby, "Well hello, pretty lady."
"She doesn't understand you." S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "None of them do. They haven't understood a word since Archie blasted fire. You have to speak at their level." She turns to her stone-age counterpart, "Not touch him. He sick. Very bad."
Savage S'Ondra cringes back and little, then runs to hide behind her civilised counterpart.
"Hey ... what did you say to her?" Fury comes dangerously close to pouting.
"Never mind." S'Ondra waves the question away.
"I vill bring over ze translator, so zat we can all speak to ze natives."
S'Ondra looks less than pleased with the Doctor's initiative, the shrugs it off.
"What do we do now, oh mighty godling?" she asks Fury, gesturing at the Venusians. Several are clustered around Archie, who has cobbled together a brush of wood and straw and is demonstrating the principles of sweeping.
"We talk to the chief." Fury answers with aplomb, "Always go to the man in charge."
The chief, once he has got over the shock of his club emasculation, seems eager to meet with the space adventurers.
"You bring big power!" he exclaims, eyes shining. "We make war other tribes. Conquer all."
"No." Fury pauses, waiting for the chatter of the machine to catch up with him. As he resumes speaking, his voice and that of the translator blend together, until it seems as if his English words are also the Venusian, "War wrong."
"War good."
"War wrong."
"War mean many women."
Fury doesn't have an answer for that.
"We not war." S'Ondra interjects firmly, "All tribes be friends. Stronger than one tribe."
"No war?"
"No war."
"Why gods come if no war?"
"Uh ... seek know why girl look like woman-God." S'Onder gestures at her doppleganger, then pauses and turns to her stepfather, "Doctor ... do you think that comparing her atoms to mine, might tell us how to get home?"
"It vill not be zat simple." Gustav shakes his head, "Ze atoms of our boies have already become like zose of zis universe." then he brightens, "But with ze control specimen, zere may be ze way to trace ze mutation! Come, we must go back to ze ship. Bring ze girl!"
"What is ship?" the Savage S'Ondra steps back, obviously fearful.
"It's a sky chariot." Fury extemporises.
"Do these people look like they know what a chariot is?" S'Ondra snorts, "They don't have the wheel, Captain."
Fury makes a disgusted noise, waving off the complaint,
"You come!" he commands, "Gods order it. Others stay here. "
Thus, the four space travellers and S'Ondra's duplicate set out for the Pathfinder, the shy savage slowly drifting back to Fury's side, especially once the Captain uses the translator to repudiate S'Ondra's claims of disease.
"How much further?" Fury asks, dabbing at his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief, "It's dashed hot."
"The Pathfinder is approximately one hundred and - oh dear." Archie comes to a sudden halt. As the others draw up behind him, they see the source of the robot's dismay.
Brown space mould spills across the Venusian flora, in a thick carpet that leads back a huge mound of the stuff: a mound which is the only sign of the Pathfinder's location.
S'Ondra gapes.
"Could you get him to repeat zat, leibchen?" Gustav is fussing with a variety of multi-coloured wires, "I zink I have my translation device almost ready."
Finally, the Princess closes her mouth, and shakes her head emphatically.
"No."
"No?" Gustav blinks, "Really, Leichen, I did not zink it would be so ha-"
"No?" the Venusian male belows, raising his club, "What mean you, no?"
"Oh!" Gustav beams. "Ze translator vorks! Vy is he so upset, leibchen?"
Fury, on the other hand, thinks enough like a prehistoric Venusian savage to know exactly why the chief is upset. Smoothly, he draws his atomic pistol and unleashes a blast. The beam strikes the club squarely. For a moment, the gnarled wood glows white, and then the whole thing vaporises, leaving only a faintly smoking stub in the Venusian's hand.
All hell breaks loose.
Screaming Venusians run in all directions, shouting and waving their arms in terror. "Demons!" they cry, again and again, the translation coming through as a confused and tinny sounding babble from the Doctor's machine.
"We're not demons!" S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "Come one - you're embarrassing our people here ..."
"We not demons!" Archie bellows, his voice somehow amplified by the tiny translation device. The sheer volume of his announcement brings the chaos to a shattering halt. Seizing the moment, he raises his arms and unleashes a mighty pillar of plasma, which blazes high into the sky, "We Gods!"
Suddenly, the Q-shippers find themselves surrounded by a horde of prostrate Venusians, all bowing and fawning.
"That's right!" Fury strikes a dramatic pose. "We're gods! And we're here to bring you the gift of ..." he casts around wildly for an idea, then notices several smouldering remains of Archie's display, "... the gift of fire!"
"And hygiene." The robot adds, "We also bring you the gift of hygiene."
"Uh ... and hygiene." Fury shoots Archie a look that speaks volumes: Don't help.
"Now," the Captain continues, staring at the cowering natives, "in exchange for these gifts, you will do as we say, or we will blow you back to the stone-age ... back out of the stone-age, to whatever came before it."
"And mops." Archie adds, "We also bring them mops."
S'Ondra stamps her foot,
"I can't believe you're treating my people like this!" she exclaims, "Surely you Space Force must have some of directive against interfering with a primitive race this way?"
Fury pauses, mentally ticking off the 1,273 clauses of the Space Force Regulations.
"No." he announces at last, "It's pretty much carte blanche with the natives." Suddenly, his eye falls on Savage S'Ondra, who cowers nearby, "Well hello, pretty lady."
"She doesn't understand you." S'Ondra rolls her eyes, "None of them do. They haven't understood a word since Archie blasted fire. You have to speak at their level." She turns to her stone-age counterpart, "Not touch him. He sick. Very bad."
Savage S'Ondra cringes back and little, then runs to hide behind her civilised counterpart.
"Hey ... what did you say to her?" Fury comes dangerously close to pouting.
"Never mind." S'Ondra waves the question away.
"I vill bring over ze translator, so zat we can all speak to ze natives."
S'Ondra looks less than pleased with the Doctor's initiative, the shrugs it off.
"What do we do now, oh mighty godling?" she asks Fury, gesturing at the Venusians. Several are clustered around Archie, who has cobbled together a brush of wood and straw and is demonstrating the principles of sweeping.
"We talk to the chief." Fury answers with aplomb, "Always go to the man in charge."
The chief, once he has got over the shock of his club emasculation, seems eager to meet with the space adventurers.
"You bring big power!" he exclaims, eyes shining. "We make war other tribes. Conquer all."
"No." Fury pauses, waiting for the chatter of the machine to catch up with him. As he resumes speaking, his voice and that of the translator blend together, until it seems as if his English words are also the Venusian, "War wrong."
"War good."
"War wrong."
"War mean many women."
Fury doesn't have an answer for that.
"We not war." S'Ondra interjects firmly, "All tribes be friends. Stronger than one tribe."
"No war?"
"No war."
"Why gods come if no war?"
"Uh ... seek know why girl look like woman-God." S'Onder gestures at her doppleganger, then pauses and turns to her stepfather, "Doctor ... do you think that comparing her atoms to mine, might tell us how to get home?"
"It vill not be zat simple." Gustav shakes his head, "Ze atoms of our boies have already become like zose of zis universe." then he brightens, "But with ze control specimen, zere may be ze way to trace ze mutation! Come, we must go back to ze ship. Bring ze girl!"
"What is ship?" the Savage S'Ondra steps back, obviously fearful.
"It's a sky chariot." Fury extemporises.
"Do these people look like they know what a chariot is?" S'Ondra snorts, "They don't have the wheel, Captain."
Fury makes a disgusted noise, waving off the complaint,
"You come!" he commands, "Gods order it. Others stay here. "
Thus, the four space travellers and S'Ondra's duplicate set out for the Pathfinder, the shy savage slowly drifting back to Fury's side, especially once the Captain uses the translator to repudiate S'Ondra's claims of disease.
"How much further?" Fury asks, dabbing at his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief, "It's dashed hot."
"The Pathfinder is approximately one hundred and - oh dear." Archie comes to a sudden halt. As the others draw up behind him, they see the source of the robot's dismay.
Brown space mould spills across the Venusian flora, in a thick carpet that leads back a huge mound of the stuff: a mound which is the only sign of the Pathfinder's location.
Last edited:
robberbaron
First Post
3rd page?
Oh no you don't. Burmp.
Oh no you don't. Burmp.
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