SKYTREK - CHAPTER 12 (standard:humor, 3550 words) [12/15] show all parts
Author: Danny Miami	Added: May 23 2010	Views/Reads: 2166/1736	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Chapter 12 of the comedy adventure.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

them around today!” 

“Are we glad to see you!” the Captain said, strolling over. “How did you
get here?” 

“Brown thighs beamed me down,” Ricky told him. “We tried to contact you
a couple of times but you didn't respond so I thought I'd beam down and 
see if big brother needed rescuing...again.” Ricky grinned then drew 
slowly on a long fat cigarette he was smoking. 

“Well we certainly need rescuing,” big brother told him. “We're trapped
on the other side of a force-field,” he explained, tapping it. “We'll 
need some equipment from the Orion to try and get us out.” 

“We won't need any equipment from the ship,” drawled Ricky, bringing
something out of an inside pocket. 

“The Pendant!” the Captain said in amazement. “Where the hell did you
get that?” 

Ricky shook his head. “When I took it from you on Earth I kinda liked it
so I had some copies made.” 

“How many?” 

“Oh, quite a few. Otto got one and a Klinger buddy of his got another,”
Ricky drawled, drawing on his fat cigarettes. 

“Perhaps that's how Draygo acquired the copy he had,” suggested Mr
Sprock. 

“Perhaps,” agreed the Captain. “Unlock the door then,” he said to Ricky,
“We have to stop Kharg and Draygo. They've got enough Anti-Matter to 
destroy Earth and half the Universe.” 

Ricky inserted the Pendant into the lock but like Draygo before him he
didn't turn it. “I'll let you out on one condition,” he said. 

“What?” 

“You let Dennis and Otto go sometime.” 

The Captain hesitated. It went against the grain to release prisoners,
especially Klinger prisoners but like Kharg before him, he didn't 
really have much choice. “Oh all right,” he agreed reluctantly. 

Ricky grinned and turned the Pendant. He pushed the door open and his
elder brother and Mr Sprock stepped through. 

The Captain immediately took out his Transceiver and flicked it open.
“Captain to bridge,” he said into it. 

“Yes Captain?” Lieutenant Youhoor's velvety voice answered. 

“Get ready to beam us back.” 

“Yes sir. Stand by.” 

“What about this lot?” Ricky asked, indicating Stan and his flock who
were clustered round the doorway. 

“Leave the door open,” the Captain said, “then they can come and go as
they please. The planet seems much pleasanter on the other side.” 

“Thanks, Jim God!” Stan shouted, tugging at his forelock. 

The Captain smiled and waved to him. Moments later their outlines began
shimmering then they all vanished. 

Stan shook his head. “This has been some day for Gods,” he muttered,
then turned back to his flock. “Right Barry an Arthur – let's get to 
work,” he said, grinning and rubbing his hands together. “Stan the man 
can see there's a killing to be made out of this little number!” 

PART TWO 

“Did you see the Klinger Mother Ship leaving on your scanner?” the
Captain asked Lieutenant Youhoor as soon as he and the others 
materialised on the bridge. 

“Yes sir,” replied Youhoor. “They were headed back towards the Black
Hole.” 

“How long ago?” 

“About thirty minutes.” 

“Damn. We'll have to make that up somehow.” 

“Catch you guys later,” Ricky drawled, sauntering off. “You can tell
everybody how I rescued you again!” he said over his shoulder to big 
brother. 

Big brother however had other things on his mind. 

“We also intercepted a message the Klingers were sending,” Butch Bradley
told him. 

The Captain frowned. “How did you manage that? We don't have any Klinger
codes.” 

Butch grinned. “Dennis gave me them,” he said. “No I didn't torture
him,” he added quickly. “I was passing the brig and he called me over. 
Gave me the codes and a few other bits and pieces as well. I couldn't 
get away from him.” 

The Captain smiled. “I know what you mean,” he said. “I have the same
problem every time I pass the brig myself. “What was the message you 
intercepted?” 

“Draygo contacted his Fleet HQ. Ordered half the battle fleet to get
under way and meet him.” 

“Where?” 

“He didn't say. He just gave orders for them to form up and start
heading towards Earth. He said he'd contact them again with a 
rendezvous.” 

“Probably once he and Kharg agree on their tactics,” suggested Mr
Sprock. “Kharg?” said Butch. “Is he with the Klingers?” 

The Captain nodded. “They've joined forces.” 

“And they have enough Anti-Matter to destroy half the Universe,” added
Sprock. “With Earth as their first target.” 

Butch whistled softly. “Nasty,” he admitted. 

“A fine understatement, Mr Bradley,” the Captain said and strolled over
to his chair. “Reverse co-ordinates on the computer, Mr Crackers,” he 
ordered. “Let's get back through the Black Hole.” 

Crackers busied himself with the request and the Orion began to head
away from Here. As soon as they had left its atmosphere the Captain 
contacted the Engine Room. 

“Jocky?” 

“Aye surr?” 

“As soon as we're through the Black Hole I'll want Warped Speed, Maximum
Factor. 

“Aye aye, surr!” replied Jocky. “That's Warped Speed, Max Factor. Nae
problem.” 

“Thanks, Jocky,” the Captain said. “Just make sure we're going in the
right direction this time.” 

As the Orion headed back towards the Black Hole, Captain Kork relayed
himself through the ship and explained to the crew what had happened 
down on Here and how Kharg and the Klingers were now headed towards 
Earth, intent on its destruction with the Anti-Matter. Just as he 
finished, Crackers caught his eye. 

“Approaching the Hole's gravity field,” he announced. 

“Increase speed for re-entry,” the Captain announced and the bridge crew
bent over their consoles, concentrating on their work. 

On the forward observation screen, behind some drifting whitish nebulae,
the Hole's dark outline was visible, fifty space miles away. 

“Approaching re-entry angle,” Crackers announced. “Re-entering Hole's
gravity field...now!” 

The Orion bucked and shuddered as it entered the Black Hole's gravity
field then its speed increased, the immense power already reaching out 
and dragging it down. 

“Feed in co-ordinates for the entrance to the corridor,” the Captain
ordered. 

“Yes sir,” said Crackers and began tapping in his command. 

All round the bridge the crew continued to be totally engrossed in their
work. Lieutenant Youhoor flicked a view of the Hole's surface on to one 
of her monitors so she could follow the Orion's progress. 

She studied her monitor closely then noticed something was missing.
Puzzled, she moved the view around, thinking perhaps she'd misjudged 
the Orion's position but her view remained the same. 

“Captain!” she said, a touch of panic in her voice. “There's something
wrong here!” 

The Captain swivelled his chair round to face her. “What is it,
Lieutenant?” 

“The corridor entrance – it's gone!” 

“Recheck scanners,” the Captain calmly ordered. 

“I have,” Youhoor replied. “Several times. There's no entrance to the
corridor anymore.” 

The Captain studied the forward observation screen however all it showed
was a view of the Hole's malevolent dark surface. 

“How far are we from the Hole?” he asked Crackers. 

“Four space miles, sir,” Crackers told him. 

“Give me a close-up of where the corridor entrance should be.” 

The view on the observation screen telescoped in but as Crackers panned
it back and forth, all they saw was the Hole's undulating black 
surface. There was definitely no corridor entrance anymore. 

The Captain leaned forward to his console and contacted the Engine Room.
“Jocky – can we turn back?” 

“No surr,” came the reply. “The Hole's pull is too much for us. We
havnae the power.” 

“Zero speed then,” the Captain ordered then leaned back in his chair and
studied the screen. “Return screen to normal view,” he ordered Crackers 
then turned to his First Officer. “Don't hesitate if you have any 
suggestions, Mr Sprock,” he said. 

“I'm afraid this situation leaves me as puzzled as you, Jim,” Sprock
replied. 

“That's what I feared,” said the Captain. “How long till we reach the
Hole's surface?” he asked Crackers. 

“Two...uh...two,” Crackers mumbled then rubbed at his eyes. 

“Two what?” snapped the Captain. 

“Sorry sir,” muttered Crackers, blinking several times. “Feel a bit...a
bit...two minutes.” 

“Give me a countdown,” the Captain ordered the bridge computer. 

“Two minutes,” it began. 

“Mr Sprock – double check the co-ordinates with Zulu,” the Captain
ordered then swivelled round in his chair. “Mr Crackers – are you ill?” 


“One minute, fifty seconds,” announced the computer 

“Feel kind of...kind of,” Crackers began. He stood up and held his head
then slumped forwards onto his console, his arm dragging over the 
instrument panel. 

The Orion was jerked off course and went into a screaming sideways dive,
throwing everyone around on the bridge. 

“One minute, forty seconds,” announced the computer. 

The Captain scrambled to his feet. “Mr Bradley – your assistance
please!” he shouted, trying to drag Crackers off his console. 

Butch didn't respond. 

“Mr Bradley!” yelled the Captain. 

“Uh?” Butch muttered drowsily and rose unsteadily to his feet. 

“Over here! Now!!” 

Butch took a few faltering steps then began swaying around. He reached
out to a console for support but missed it and crashed to the floor. 

“One minute, thirty seconds.” 

Seeing that he wasn't going to get any help from Butch, the Captain
reached forward and grabbed Crackers unceremoniously by the collar, 
yanked him back off the instruments and pushed him away from his 
console. 

“Read me the correct co-ordinates!” he snapped to Sprock. 

Mr Sprock glanced at Zulu's monitor. “One point five, seven point three,
four point....” he began then trailed off and shook his head several 
times as if trying to clear it. “Sorry Jim,” he said. “Four point one 
five, eight point...point,” he trailed off again. 

Beside him, Zulu sagged backwards in his chair, unconscious. 

“One minute, twenty seconds,” 

The Captain glanced quickly round the bridge. The entire crew were
either slumped over their consoles or had slid to the floor. As he 
turned back, Mr Sprock sank to his knees then keeled over. 

Captain Kork rose and began to walk over to him but after a few steps,
collapsed himself. He tried to get back to his feet but couldn't find 
the strength and he could only sway around on his knees. 

“One minute,” announced the computer. 

The Captain shook his head to try and clear the drowsiness that was
settling over him but his eyelids felt very, very heavy. He glanced up 
at the observation screen – the undulating surface of the Black Hole 
filled the screen and the Orion was heading towards it, well off 
course. 

He made one last determined effort to stand up but his body felt as if
it was weighted down with lead. His eyes closed and he sank to the 
floor. 

Behind him, the bridge door swished open and Ricky strolled in. He was
smoking another of his fat cigarettes and he grinned as he saw everyone 
slumped in their seats or lying on the floor. 

“Been having a party, eh?” he drawled. He wandered over to the Captain's
chair, slid into it and glanced at the observation screen. 

“Forty five seconds,” announced the computer. 

Ricky drew on his cigarette and frowned. “Forty five seconds to what?”
he muttered. 

He stared at the screen for a few moments watching the Hole's undulating
black surface. 

“Shouldn't we be heading towards a corridor or some shit like that?” he
asked, looking round. 

No-one answered him. 

He rose unsteadily to his feet and swayed over to Crackers' console.
“Now let's see, where the hell are we?” he muttered and began fiddling 
with the instruments. 

“Twenty seconds.” 

In response to Ricky's fiddling, the Orion slowly began swinging round
to its correct course. He drew deeply on his cigarette and exhaled 
slowly, watching the screen. 

“Ten seconds.” 

Gradually the view on the observation screen began to change and the jet
black of the Hole's surface gave way to the lighter area of the 
corridor. Ricky saw it and grinned. 

“Five seconds.” 

Ricky had a final fiddle with the instrument panel then swayed back to
the Captain's chair and slid into it. He swung his feet up on to the 
console and was casually drawing on his cigarette as the Orion shot 
into the corridor. 

Shortly after they entered, the bridge crew started coming round,
picking themselves up from the floor and straightening up at their 
consoles, everyone wondering what the hell had happened. 

“You guys sure pick some time to have a party,” Ricky drawled to big
brother, strolling across the bridge and slipping on to a couch. “We 
nearly missed the damn corridor.” 

The Captain rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen. “Did we make it?” 

“Yep,” Ricky replied. “Thanks entirely to me.” 

The Captain glanced at his First Officer. “Was it Kharg?” he asked. 

“Probably,” replied Sprock. 

“Could he have hypnotised us from a distance?” 

“Remembering how easily he hypnotised us on Dulcodaz, I think that would
be possible,” said Sprock. 

“So he had the entire bridge crew believing that the corridor didn't
exist any more?” 

“And falling asleep at the same time,” said Sprock. “The only person not
affected seems to have been your brother.” 

They glanced over at Ricky who was sprawled on one of the bridge
couches, smoking contentedly and staring dreamily at the observation 
screen. 

“That's because he was already hypnotised by something else,” the
Captain said and slipped into his chair. “Relay me through the ship, 
Crackers,” he ordered. “I'll have to warn the crew again.” 

Crackers flicked a switch on his console and the bridge crew listened as
the Captain spoke to the ship's crew. 

“This is the Captain speaking,” he said. “We have just narrowly missed
crashing into the surface of the Black Hole after the entire bridge 
crew were hypnotised from a distance by Kharg. As I told you some time 
ago, Kharg has tremendous hypnotic powers so I want you all to be 
doubly alert from now on. If you feel in the slightest unwell, report 
to the Sick Bay immediately. I also want you to watch your fellow crew 
members – if any of them start behaving unusually, I would request that 
you contact me or Mr Sprock. Kharg has already tried to kill us all 
once. He'll probably try again. We must stay on our toes if we are to 
defeat him. Captain out.” 

On the other side of the bridge, Butch Bradley was bent over his console
pretending to check his weapons panel. ‘Kharg?' he thought to himself, 
a mad gleam coming into his eyes. ‘What's wrong with Kharg? Kharg's a 
great guy!!' 

PART THREE 

As the Orion was travelling through the corridor inside the Black Hole a
new era of capitalism was beginning on the planet Here. A large sign 
saying ‘PROMISED LAND' had been crudely lettered in goat's blood and 
was propped up next to the doorway in the wall that nobody sees. 

A large crowd had gathered nearby and a queue snaked into the distance.
Stan the Prophet was standing in front of the doorway, the Pendant 
round his neck. Just inside the doorway and blocking the entrance stood 
Barry and Arthur, each wielding a large wooden club. 

“Next!” yelled Stan. 

A middle-aged man and his family detached themselves from the crowd and
approached. 

“What'll it be then?” asked Stan. “One week visit, day ticket or guided
tour?” “One week visit please,” said the man. 

“That'll be one daughter,” Stan told him, handing him a small black
pebble which served as his ticket. 

“Any one in particular?” the man asked, turning to his family. 

Stan the Man grinned and ran an expert eye over his four giggling
daughters. “Her,” he decided, indicating a buxom, black haired beauty. 

She strolled forward, pouting and fluttering her eyes at him. 

“Put her with the others,” Stan told Barry, patting her rear as she
passed. 

Arthur moved aside to let the rest of the family through but the man
hung back. 

“No chance of permanent residence is there?” he asked Stan. 

Stan shook his head. “We're full at the moment, sport,” he told him. 

The man glanced round furtively then withdrew a crudely made bracelet
from inside his furs. He pushed it discreetly into Stan's hand. “A 
gift,” he muttered out the side of his mouth. 

“Very nice,” Stan admitted as he examined it. “Very nice indeed.” 

“Could you put us on the waiting list?” the man asked. 

“Sure,” replied Stan, throwing an arm round his shoulder and leading him
into the Promised Land. “But you'll have to wait until somebody snuffs 
it. We're pretty full at the moment. Still,” he said, winking, “these 
things can be arranged. Know what I mean?” 

The man smiled and nodded. “We have lots more bracelets back at our
cave,” he whispered. “Perhaps we could come to an agreement?” 

“Perhaps,” agreed Stan, slapping him on the back. “We'll talk about it
later. Now go an have some fun. Oh an go easy on them big tasty red 
berries – don't want to spend the week with bot rot, do we?” 

The man laughed and strolled after his family. 

Pleased with his deal, Stan walked back through the doorway. “Next!” he
yelled. 

Another middle-aged man and his family approached. The man's wife was
extremely fat and his two daughters were outstandingly ugly. 

“One week visit, day ticket or guided tour?” Stan asked. 

“One week visit,” the man replied. 

“That'll be one daughter,” Stan told him. 

“Which one?” the man asked. 

Stan inspected what was on offer and screwed up his face. “Bloody hell,
you must be jokin, mate!” he replied. 

“How about both of them?” the man asked hopefully. 

Stan looked at the daughters – at the ugly faces, the hairy moles, the
prominent moustaches, the layers of fat. “No chance,” he decided. 

“Both of them and my wife?” 

“Piss off!” Stan retorted. 

“How about a day ticket then?” 

Stan shook his head then spotted the family goat which was trailing
behind them. “Tell you what, I'll let you on the guided tour for that,” 
he said, pointing at it. 

The man sighed. “All right,” he agreed then sidled closer to Stan.
“Don't you want my wife and daughters anyway?” he asked. 

Stan looked at him contemptuously. 

“Couldn't you even use them as a sacrifice?” 

“Blimey mate, you couldn't even sacrifice them to the Devil!” Stan
replied. 

The man nodded resignedly. “Oh well,” he muttered, “it was worth a try.”
Stan handed him his white pebble ticket and the family walked into the 
Promised Land and joined the group waiting for the guided tour. 

“Next!” yelled Stan. 


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