SKYTREK - CHAPTER 7 (standard:humor, 3437 words) [7/15] show all parts
Author: Danny Miami	Added: May 16 2010	Views/Reads: 2171/1771	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Chapter 7 of the comedy adventure scifi novel.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

“What now?” grumbled Brick. 

“Yeah. We might as well make a start.” 

Brick sighed. “Oh all right then...what's the plan, sir?” 

Major Partz puffed out his chest importantly. “I've decided to attack at
dawn, Lieutenant.” 

“Dawn?” 

“Yes, dawn. They won't be expecting us then.” 

Lieutenant Brick nodded. “Good idea, sir,” he said. 

Satisfied with their plan, the Major and the Lieutenant stared out the
observation widow for a while. 

“When we get back to the Mother Ship after this mission,” Major Partz
said, breaking the silence, “will we have to go through that ceremony?” 


“What ceremony is that, sir?” 

“You know – the one General Draygo has after he rewards people when he
puts them down that chute.” 

“Oh yeah. The rubbish chute, he calls it. Got a great sense of humour
hasn't he?” 

“He sure has – the rubbish chute!” 

The Major and the Lieutenant joined in some comradely laughter at their
leader's wit. 

Then Major Partz frowned. “You know when people get rewarded and go down
the rubbish chute,” he said, “well how come we never see them again?” 

“Because they get posted,” the Lieutenant replied knowingly. 

“Posted?” 

“Yeah. They get posted to another ship. Comes with the promotion.” 

“Oh I see. Will that happen to us?” 

“Probably.” 

His questions answered for the time being, the Major glanced out the
observation window. “It's not getting any lighter is it?” he remarked. 

“Na,” replied the Lieutenant. “Dawn takes a long time to break in space.
I've noticed that. We'll just have to be patient, sir.” 

So the Major and the Lieutenant settled back in their seats and
patiently waited for the breaking of dawn. And waited. And waited. And 
waited. 

PART TWO 

On the bridge of the Orion, Captain Kork was quizzing Ricky about how he
managed to get down to Dulcodaz without being spotted. 

“So you beamed down just after us and hoped Kharg wouldn't notice?” the
Captain asked. 

Ricky, still in his Klinger disguise, grinned and nodded. “Yeah. I
thought old yellow eyes would be too engrossed in finding out where the 
Pendant was to bother checking his scanners.” 

“It's a pity you hadn't beamed down the first time as well when those
co-ordinates Kharg needed were revealed.” 

“I did,” Ricky replied casually. “That's when I found the side entrance
to the Palace. It must've been used ages ago. There was a narrow 
passage inside it which led up to a small chamber above the room Kharg 
was using. There was a small peephole in the floor – they probably used 
it in the past for spying.” 

“So you were in the same place both times you beamed down?” the Captain
asked. 

“Yep.” 

“You didn't happen to see the co-ordinates when Kharg added Mr Sprock's
blood to the Krystals, did you?” 

“Yep.” 

Sprock raised an eyebrow in admiration as Ricky reeled off the numbers. 

“Did you get all that, Mr Zulu?” the Captain asked quickly. 

“Yez Boz,” Zulu's rich deep voice replied. 

“Where do they lead to?” 

“It's obviously going to be where Kharg is heading for,” Sprock remarked
to the Captain as they waited for Zulu's reply. 

“True,” replied the Captain. “We just need to find out where it is.” 

“Agreed,” said Sprock. “And there is another matter I have been
considering.” 

“What would that be?” 

“The Klinger Mother Ship which Dennis told us about. I would say that
there is a strong possibility that it has followed Kharg.” 

“Good point, Mr Sprock,” said the Captain. “We'll have to bear that in
mind.” 

Mr Zulu meantime had unrolled a space chart across his desk and was
laying out a complicated pattern of bones over it in relationship to 
the co-ordinates Ricky had given them. Eventually he stabbed a brown 
finger at a spot on the chart. “Here, Boz,” he announced. 

The Captain strolled over and had a look then screwed up his face when
he saw where Zulu was pointing. “Oh no!” he muttered. 

Sprock walked over and examined the chart. “The planet Clumzy,” he
announced. “Do you know it, Jim?” 

The Captain nodded. “Home of the Clumzies,” he said. “The most awkward,
blundering, accident-prone people in the Universe.” He turned to Zulu. 
“You're absolutely certain this is where the co-ordinates lead to?” 

“Yez Boz. The bones neva lie,” replied his Navigator. 

Captain Kork sighed resignedly. “How long to plot a course?” 

“Depenz.” 

“On what?” 

“We gots any live chickens on board?” 

“The Captain frowned. “I think so. Why?” 

“I gots to consult the chicken entrails before we leave,” Zulu told him,
his dark eyes rolling. “See if the Juju's right.” 

“Come come, Mr Zulu, is that really necessary,” the Captain asked,
slightly sceptical. 

“Oh yes, Boz,” Zulu assured him. He leaned closer conspiratorially.
“Don't want to travel with bad Juju, does you? Maybe the Evil Eye see 
us....an pounce!!” 

Startled, the Captain jumped back. A confrontation with the Evil Eye was
the last thing he wanted. “Well then, Mr Zulu,” he said, glancing round 
to see if anybody was listening, “ you'd better get down to the galley 
and see if Chef can give you a..a..a navigational aid.” 

Zulu grinned then cart-wheeled his way to the bridge door as the Captain
strolled over and slid into his chair. He flicked on his intercom and 
contacted the Engine Room. 

“Bridge to Chief Engineer,” he said. 

Jocky, who had made the most of the party when the Captain and Mr Sprock
were on Dulcodaz, was more than a little drunk. “Yes ma wee mannie?” he 
replied. 

“I'll be requiring Warped Speed shortly,” the Captain told him. “Are we
prepared?” 

“Warped Speed?” said Jocky. “Nae problem at all. Just say the word an
we'll be away like a fart out of a ferret!” 

PART THREE 

On board the small Klinger attack ship which was invisible under its
cloaking device, Major Partz had been working out some new tactics 
since dawn seemed to be taking a long time to break and the Orion did 
not seem to be moving. 

He preened himself, cleared his throat then glanced over at Lieutenant
Brick. “I've decided that we'll split the watches,” he announced. 

“Split the watches? All right. If you say so sir,” agreed Brick. 

Confident that he would get the best of the deal the Major explained his
plan. “I'll take the night shift,” he said smugly. “You do the 
dayshift.” 

Brick smiled to himself. “Right sir. I'll get some sleep then. Call me
at dawn.” 

“All right, Lieutenant,” Partz announced then scratched his head.
“When's that?” he asked. 

“Just as its getting light, you twat, I mean sir.” 

“Oh yeah, light,” the Major agreed. “Okay, I'll give you a call.” 

“Thanks sir,” said Brick and made his way to his sleeping quarters,
which happened to be the seat he was strapped into. 

Major Partz, basking in the glory of all this important decision making,
sat back and waited for dawn. And waited. And waited. And waited. 

PART FOUR 

“Okay Boz,” Zulu announced as he strolled back into the bridge, wiping
some blood from his hands. “We can go.” 

The Captain beckoned him closer. “The Juju's good?” he whispered. 

“Ace!” replied Zulu, grinning and showing his perfect white teeth. 

“Good,” said the Captain, returning the smile. “Plot in our course.” He
gave Zulu a minute to pass on the course instructions to Crackers then 
contacted the Engine Room again. “Jocky?” 

“Yesh?” 

“Take us up to maximum if you please then implement Warped Speed.” 

“Comin up, Cap'n,” replied Jocky. 

With the super confidence generated by an over-indulgence in the bottle,
Jocky moved round his beloved Engine Room, turning dials, flicking 
switches and shouting orders to his crew. 

The Orion moved off slowly then quickly gained speed then went into a
beautiful arc as it headed away from Dulcodaz....backwards. 

On the nearby Klinger attack ship, Major Partz only had time to say,
“Isn't that the--” before the Orion smashed into them, then he, 
Lieutenant Brick and all their promotion hopes became at one with the 
Cosmos. On the bridge they had all felt the collision. 

The Captain flicked on his intercom. “Jocky what the hell was that?” 

“Just a few meteors, Cap'n,” Jocky replied. “Nothin serious. A wee bump
tae the ship's arse.” 

“Is it anything to do with the fact that we're travelling backwards?”
the Captain asked. 

Before Jocky had time to reply Mr Sprock drew the Captain's attention to
the forward observation screen. He glanced up then groaned and held his 
head. Reluctantly he contacted the Engine Room again. “Stop engines, 
Jocky,” he ordered. “Then you'd better get up here. “We've got 
company.” 

Visible on the Orion's forward observation screen and signalling for it
to stop was a very sleek and very fast ship. There was a large flashing 
blue light on top of it and across the bow huge white letters spelled 
out two distinct words – SPACE POLICE. 

PART FIVE 

As Jocky was making his way up to the bridge, the Space Police Constable
beamed across to the Orion. He materialised on the Transporter Platform 
and looked round, a gloating smile on his face. In common with the rest 
of the Space Police he was a large, well-built specimen, his all black 
uniform giving him a menacing look. 

“Greetings lawbreakers!” he announced, removing his helmet and running a
hand over his bristly, razored hair. 

“Is there some trouble, Officer?” the Captain asked, giving him one of
his warm smiles, complete with appealing crows' feet at the corners of 
his eyes. 

The Constable ignored the warm smile and the appealing crows' feet. “You
call it trouble, I call it deep shit,” he replied, stepping off the 
Platform and taking out his notebook. He flicked it open and glanced at 
it. “Attempting a rear u-turn in a built-up area, exceeding the speed 
limit just outside a planet's atmosphere, driving without due care and 
attention and...” he broke off and grinned maliciously at the Captain, 
“and annihilating a small ship which you didn't see because you were 
travelling backwards.” He closed his notebook and returned it to his 
breast pocket. “Yes I would classify that as deep shit, sunshine,” he 
said smugly. “Were you driving?” 

“No he's the Cap--” Mr Sprock began. 

“Shutit pointy ears!” snapped the Constable. “Was I talking to you?”
Just then the bridge door swished open and Jocky staggered in. “Hullo!” 
he called cheerfully then tripped over Butch Bradley's deliberately 
outstretched boot. 

“The driver?” the Constable asked. 

Captain Kork closed his eyes and nodded wearily as Jocky rose unsteadily
to his feet. 

The Constable's eyes lit up. He brought out a Transceiver and flicked it
open. “Got a beauty here, Sid,” he said into it. “Send over a bag for 
breath testing.” 

He pocketed his Transceiver and strolled over to Jocky. “Had a few, have
we?” he asked lifting an imaginary glass to his mouth several times. 

“Okay, Ah'll join ye if yer havin one,” Jocky replied, an idiotic grin
on his face. 

“Licence!” snapped the Constable through gritted teeth. “Insurance!
Space tax disc!” 

Jocky fumbled for his wallet and produced his papers. The Constable
grabbed them and began examining the documents confident that he would 
find something else amiss but everything was in order and grudgingly he 
thrust them back. Irritated, he looked round and saw the lights 
flashing above the Transporter Platform indicating someone was beaming 
aboard. “Ah good, the bag's coming,” he said, rubbing his hands 
together. 

A shimmering figure began to take shape on the Platform and moments
later materialised completely. It was a grey haired, toothless, ugly 
old woman. 

“The bag!” the Constable told Jocky and dragged him over to the
Platform. “I want you to blow into her.” 

Jocky recoiled. Close up, the old woman was even uglier. “Jings,” he
protested, “do I have tae?” 

“Blow!” ordered the Constable. 

Jocky screwed his eyes shut, leaned forward and fastened his lips to the
old woman's. He breathed into her then broke away and rubbed at his 
mouth. A few seconds later the old hag's face turned a deep green. 

The Constable whistled appreciatively. “Great!” he said. “She's
positive!” He flicked open his Transceiver. “Beam the bag back, Sid,” 
he said then turned to Jocky. “Right sunshine – now we need a blood 
sample.” 

Perhaps I could assist,” Dr Malloy offered, stepping forward. “I'm the
ship's doctor.” The Constable held up his hand. “There's no need,” he 
said then swung his fist round and punched Jocky smartly across the 
nose. 

Jocky yelped then collapsed. As he lay on the floor the Constable took a
metal tube from his pocket and removed a long thin stick from it. He 
bent down and dipped it into the blood which was flowing from Jocky's 
nose then examined the reading. 

He straightened up, a satisfied look on his face. “Three times the legal
limit,” he announced, grinning. 

He took out his pad and began writing as a semi-conscious Jocky was
carried down to the Sick Bay. 

“You Federation boys are all the same,” the Constable said as he wrote.
“Touch down somewhere, swallow half a gallon of the local brew then 
take off like you're in hyperspace.” He tore off the sheet from his pad 
and handed it to the Captain. “Give that to Doctor Who when he comes 
round,” he instructed. “Ten penalty points.” 

“Only ten?” the Captain remarked, slightly surprised. “That's not too
bad under the circumstances.” 

“I was going to make it twenty,” the Constable told him, putting on his
helmet and strolling back to the Transporter Platform, “but I took ten 
off.” 

“Why?” 

“Five each for those two Klingers you wiped out.” 

“Klingers? What Klingers?” 

“They must have been in a small attack ship with the Cloak on,” the
Constable told him. “When you hit them it would have turned the Cloak 
off.” 

“Oh, I see.” 

“Yeah, ten points off for the Klingers. I hate Klingers – thick, ugly
bastards” He flicked open his Transceiver. “Okay Sid,” he said into it. 
“Beam me back.” 

Immediately his outline began shimmering and he touched his helmet and
smiled round at everyone. “Evening all!” he said and disappeared. 

PART SIX 

CAPTAIN'S LOG : STARDATE 503.17 After our encounter with the Space
Police and with Jocky still recovering in the Sick Bay, the Orion went 
into Warped Speed and we headed for the planet Clumzy in pursuit of 
Kharg and the Klinger Mother Ship. Kharg is about one hour ahead of us 
and may even have been and gone by the time we get there. Our only hope 
is that he might be delayed somehow – possibly in finding the next clue 
towards possession of the mysterious substance which is going to give 
him the power to rule the Universe and destroy Earth. Unfortunately for 
Mr Sprock he has gone through another ear change. This time his ears 
are long and floppy like a cocker spaniel's and he has locked himself 
in his cabin. After the last episode I can't say I blame him. 

SUPPLEMENTAL Dennis, one of our Klinger prisoners, continues to surpass
himself. Last night he offered to exchange the layout of the secret 
minefield around his home planet if he could have beans on toast for 
his supper. On a more serious note he told us the real purpose of 
General Draygo's mission – to kill me and destroy the Orion. Both, 
obviously, must be prevented. 

PART SEVEN 

“Two hours till we reach Clumzy, Captain,” Crackers announced. “Any
instructions?” 

“Maintain present speed until we're within scanner range,” instructed
the Captain. “Put a planet information profile on screen.” 

Crackers began tapping in the request and the Captain turned to
Lieutenant Youhoor. “Any sign of the Klingers or Kharg?” he asked. 

Youhoor inspected her monitors. “Negative sir,” she replied. “They must
still be too far ahead or we'd have picked them up.” 

“All weapons are on standby in case we run into anyone,” Butch Bradley
informed him. “Want me to destroy a couple of minor planets on the way 
just for practice?” 

“Negative, Mr Bradley,” the Captain told him. 

“Information on Clumzy coming up,” a grinning Crackers announced. “Home
of the most accident-prone people in the Universe.” 

The view on the forward observation screen changed to a picture of a
fairly small planet. 

“Situated in the Janad System, Clumzy had a population of just over
fifty million until recently,” began the commentary. “The population is 
now exactly fifty million after somebody sat on the Missile Launch 
buttons at Armed Forces H.Q., setting off explosions and wiping out 
several hundred of the population. North West corner of Clumzy now 
uninhabited.” 

The screen view changed to a devastated, burned out area of the planet. 

“Ruler of the planet is Olaf Akcy Dent,” continued the commentary. 

The screen changed to a shot of a middle-aged man lying in a hospital
bed with one leg in plaster. 

“He is currently in hospital after falling from a height of twenty feet
when his Jetpack malfunctioned. It malfunctioned after it was shot from 
his back by one of his personal bodyguards who thought he was an 
assassin.” 

“Olaf has a long history of trying to get his planet included in the
Federation,” the commentary went on, “but on the grounds of 
self-preservation his requests have so far been turned down.” 

The picture changed to a shot of two ships colliding and bursting into
flames. 

“Even the Klingers, currently on an empire-extending programme, have
refused to take the planet into their fold after two of their ships 
were destroyed there and several Ambassadors killed when the ships were 
mis-directed to the same Docking Bay.” 

The picture changed to a shot of buildings being knocked down. 

“Flourishing industries – any types of demolition work,” the commentary
continued. “Declining industries – any types of construction work. 
Average life span – fifty Earth years. The high mortality rate is due 
to new buildings falling on people, people falling off new buildings, 
people sitting on Missile Launch buttons.” 

A final shot of the bed-bound, miserable looking Olaf filled the screen.


“Recommendations for landing – DON'T!!” 


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