Boldly Going Where No One Wants To Go At All!

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Star Yecch! Wars Part 7

As the Away Team assembled in the captain's ready room, Dildeaux addressed Input. Again, Input recalled his travails to the captain.

DLD: Mr. Input, what the hell did you get yourself into?
IPT: I, I am puzzled by the tone of your question, sir.
DLD: Your contact with those people violated the Prime Directive regarding First Contact!
IPT: I am, as humans proclaim, a victim of circumstances.
UPD: He's right, sir. Input was kidnapped. He didn't initiate First Contact of his own volition, sir.
DLD: So it appears, Number Two. (Sighing) Now that the problem is upon us, gentlemen, the question appears to be: how do we extract ourselves from it?
UPD: Well, sir, Georgi has those 'droids' down in Engineering. Maybe he can shed some light.

Dildeaux, fresh from the Away team briefing, entered the Engineering lab. He found Georgi LaFart and several others methodically deconstructing the smaller droid.

DLD: Found anything yet, Georgi?
LFT: Nothing out of the ordinary, Captain. Basically, a standard-functioning robot. Nothing positronic, or duotronic, in the circuitry.
DLD: Hmmm. Just below par with our technology. This allays some of my doubts regarding First Contact rules. How about the larger robot?
LFT: We're just getting ready to decontruct it, sir. Care to stick around?
DLD: Gladly.

A group of Georgi's assistants brought the larger droid forward from its holding container. After a quick scan with a tricorder, it was hooked into Georgi's diagnostic computer.

LFT: Now, captain, this should read out its programming protocols.

Moments after Georgi fed in the command, the droid gasped and opened its eyes. The two security personnel assigned under Yellow Alert protocol drew out their phasers and targeted the droid.

IMR: How,...how,..where,..
DLD: It speaks?
LFT: (muttering) No shit!
DLD: Pardon me?
LFT: I,...um,..said, "who would have thought of it,...sir."
DLD: I thought so. Identify yourself, robot.
IMR: I am IM1-RU2, a Type III protocol droid. Where is OU812?
DLD: Who?
LFT: OU812 was the designation for the smaller droid, dir.
IMR: Where is he? He has information vital to the Resistance!
LFT: Well, currently he's that small pile of parts over there.
IMR: MURDERERS!!! What have you done?? Oh, this is most dreadful! Mater Ben will be quite upset by this turn of events!
DLD: I think you better explain yourself. What is this "Resistance?"

With that, the droid was escorted to Dildeaux's Ready Room. As the droid briefed Dildeaux, Updike and Barf regarding the Resistance, Yo chimed into the room.

YO: Sir, we've just received an urgent message from Input's friend, Ben.
DLD: An urgent message? What is it?
YO: Would you prefer a snappy retort defining what an urgent message is first, sir?
DLD: later, Yo. This is critical and I've no time for levity.
YO: (muttering) Uh-oh. Etterbay etgay the Ozacpray!
DLD: I eardhay atthay, O-yay! Just deliver the essagemay!
YO: Yes, sir. Ben says those Imperial fighters strafed he and Luke and they've destroyed Luke's home and family. Ben is now requesting assistance from us.
DLD: Affirmative. Get a fix on his position and instruct him to standby.
YO: Aye, sir.

Dildeaux turned his back to his senior officers and stared out the porthole, collecting his thoughts. After a few moments, he returned to the conference table.

DLD: Gentlemen, again I am of two minds regarding our predicament.
UPD: Jeez, didn't Dr. Chestcrusher adjust your lithium levels yet, sir?
DLD: Number Two!!! I am, however, of a single mind regarding your next promotion,...you oaf!
UPD: (gulp) Yes, sir.
DLD: While I know we a re fairly safe in regards to the Prime Directive, I do not wish to expose these locals to any of our technology. Therefore, Number Two, take Barf with you and render as much assistance as possible to the "Ben."
UPD: Aye, sir.
BRF: Hmmm. A chance to render aid to a downtrodden victim. This would be well within my,..my,..
UPD: "Idiom," Barf?
BRF: Grrr! I would take great care to whom I called an "idiot," Commander!!
UPD: I,...uh,...
DLD: Nevermind, Number Two! Just get down there! Report back every half-hour.
UPD/BRF: Aye, sir.

Back down on the planet, Ben and Luke greeted the Away Team. After updating each other, Ben informed them of his plan.

BEN: Gentlemen, the princess needs to be rescued and I have a plan.
LUK: A plan? What is it?
BEN: A plan is a series of coherent and sequential actions to achieve a goal.
LUK: Oh-h-h-h. I've never encountered one reading this series.
BEN: It shall not be held against you Young Luke.
UPD: Uh,...Ben, your plan?
BEN: The message from OU812 indicates that Lord Vader is probably holding the princess on his flagship. That ship, and the new weapons system, is heavily guarded. Going in with a ship like your Boobyprize will get everyone killed: therefore, I shall seek the assistance of a local transport ship to slip past Vader's guard.
BRF: I do not like this plan. Sneaking and stealth are not honorable. I would prefer to die in the rescue of this princess, and my spirit shall gain entrance to Sto-Vo-Kor!
BEN: Forgive me, Commander Updike, but is your compatriot always this,...frisky?
UPD: It's his new diet. But just how do you intend to get someone to volunteer for what sounds like a suicide mission?
BEN: There is a bar in town favored by the local traders. I know of a certain trader who has helped me in the past. He, too, "owes me one."
UPD: Then let's get this show on the road.
BEN: I appreciate your enthusiasm, Commander, but first we must outfit you two in a more local fashion. Your uniforms will certainly arouse suspicion among these people. We shall first travel to my place for clothing.
BRF: You seem very assured of yourself, Ben.
BEN: I follow a,...guidance that permits me a degree of self-assurance.
LUK: You mean "The Schwartz?"
BEN: No,...that would be copyright infringement. But it is something like that.

At Ben's home, the group refreshed themselves as they picked from Ben's extensive wardrobe. Luke, ever inquisitive, pored over several of Ben's personal effects. Luke's eye caught sight of a small, cylindrical device. Picking it up, he recognized the markings of the mythical "Knights," and was awe-struck.

BEN: Luke, you appear awe-struck.
LUK: How,...how did you know?
BEN: It is written by "The Force."
LUK: What s this thing anyway?
BEN: That is my light cutlass. At a time, it served its purpose.
LUK: A light cutlass?? Wow! I've heard stories about the Knights and how they struck down the Imperial Forces with these things!
BEN: Yes, Young Luke; but that "thing" is not a toy. It is a deadly tool, one that must be mastered by years of training.
LUK: Gee, I'd sure like to learn how to use it!
BEN: Your enthusiasm knows no bounds, Young Luke! You may hold that for now, Luke, but first we must make our way. Time is of the essence.
UPD: Where, exactly, are we going, Ben?
BEN: There is a bar near the space port, the "Baab Aganouj." I have heard that an old friend was in layover there.
UPD: Why this particular,..."friend?"
BEN: If you are inquiring about his moral character, then "yes," he has been a drug runner for the Get-High Knights. His expertise in getting past the Imperial Star Forces knows no equal. He shall be a boon to our expedition.
BRF: That is all well and good, but I wish him to be of some aid to us.
BEN: I believe I just said that,...
UPD: Don't ask, Ben.

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