Summary: A LAND OF THE GIANTS/RETURN OF THE JEDI crossover.
Categories: Giantess,
Adventure,
Crush,
Entrapment,
Gentle,
Humiliation,
Maternal,
Violent Characters: None
Growth: Brobdnignagian (51 ft. to 100 ft.)
Shrink: None
Size Roles: FF/m
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 24
Completed: Yes
Word count: 15905
Read: 135757
Published: September 06 2013
Updated: December 06 2015
1. Chapter 1: OBLIGATORY INTRODUCTION by Carycomic
2. Chapter 2: MORE DRAMATIS PERSONAE by Carycomic
3. Chapter 3: GIANTESSES TO THE RESCUE by Carycomic
4. Chapter 4: FOOD FOR THOUGHT by Carycomic
5. Chapter 5: GETTING FITZHUGH FIT by Carycomic
6. Chapter 6: COMPLICATIONS SET IN by Carycomic
7. Ch.7: INSERT "IMPERIAL DEATH MARCH" HERE by Carycomic
8. Chapter 8: WHO IS THE DEADLIEST BAD GUY? by Carycomic
9. Ch. 9: COULD THINGS GET ANY MORE COMPLICATED? by Carycomic
10. Chapter 10: BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR... by Carycomic
11. Chapter 11: A WHOLE NEW WORLD...OF TROUBLE. by Carycomic
12. Chapter 12: GOOD COP OR BAD COP? by Carycomic
13. Chapter 13: NO REST FOR THE WEARY by Carycomic
14. Chapter 14: DOGGED PURSUIT by Carycomic
15. Chapter 15: THE PLOT THICKENS (IF NOT THE SOUP) by Carycomic
16. Ch. 16: MORE COMPLICATIONS ENSUE by Carycomic
17. Chapter 17: COUNTER-ATTACK! by Carycomic
18. Chapter 18: BUBBLES OF TROUBLE by Carycomic
19. Chapter 19: "TIE" SCORE? by Carycomic
20. Ch. 20: SOMETIMES, IT TAKES A WOMAN'S TOUCH by Carycomic
21. Ch. 21: MANDATORY PLOT TWIST by Carycomic
22. Chapter 22. "LOOK! UP IN THE SKY!!" by Carycomic
23. Ch. 23: REDUCING THE OPPOSITION by Carycomic
24. Ch. 24---CONCLUSION by Carycomic
Chapter 1: OBLIGATORY INTRODUCTION by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
Character and concepts: if you recognize them, I don't own or profit from them. That's strictly the privilege of Marvel/Disney and the Estate of Irwin Allen.
* * * * *
A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY...
"Remind me, again, why we're headed for Endor?" asked Obmuj.
Logunn of Zeheth chuckled, as he petted his pet dinko.
"Because Jabba the Hutt's been bragging that no other creature _in the whole galaxy_ can beat his pet rancor in a fight to the death! And, Bogo the Hutt is calling him on it. That's why he's hired us. Bogo wants us to capture a live Endorian hanadak and smuggle it back to Nar Shadda for a test match. Against a nashtah/gundark hybrid that he's personally funded the genetic engineering of! Which ever one of them kills the other? That's the one he'll pit against the rancor on Tattooine!"
The Cragmoloid pondered this information for a few moments.
"And exactly what does an Endorian hanadak look like?"
"Basically?" replied the Zehethbran: "It's a three meter-tall species of killer ape native to the planet's Forest Moon."
"Hmmph!" Obmuj grunted: "Three meters tall, huh? I guess that explains _my_ presence, here."
Logunn chuckled, again: "Sorry, pal. But, you're the only one of us with enough brawn to make such a live capture even remotely possible!"
Suddenly, a proximity alarm began beeping throughout the recreation lounge of "the Nightshrike" (the YT-1000 freighter they were traveling aboard). Rudely awakening the dinko, who started snarling--and malodorously spraying--as a result!
"Aw, Bub!" exclaimed Logunn in annoyed disappointment.
Obmuj--holding his left hand over his trunk--went over to the ladder leading up to the cockpit and shouted upward.
"Hey, Tocneppil! What's going on?"
The freighter's captain and pilot did not answer that question with good news.
"Two Imperial cruisers bearing down on us!"
"Imps??!" echoed the Cragmoloid: "In this system?"
As if to clarify that point, the freighter's radio crackled to life.
"Attention, Nightshrike! Attention, Nightshrike! This is the VICTORY-class Star Destroyer PRIDE OF CORUSCANT. Shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded. Repeat: shut down all engines and prepare to be boarded! Any attempt at escape or resistance, and you will be summarily fired on."
"Oh, great!" muttered Logunn (whose own racially characteristic musk had finally calmed Bub down): "Well, at least I get to take some TIE fighters with me."
"Maybe not," replied the human captain: "Strap yourselves in. I'm heading for Endor's Gate!"
"WHAT???" chorused his two passengers, semi-alarmed.
"I'm gambling they're not as desperate to catch us, as we are to shake 'em. So, what better way than to skirt the event horizon of a black hole?"
Unable to argue with that logic, Logunn and Obmuj did as instructed.
* * * * *
LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT,
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
(MAY 25, 1983)
"Spindrift to Tower," intoned Capt. Steve Burton: "Spindrift to Tower. Pre-flight check completed. Ready to take-off when cleared. Over?"
"Roger that, Spindrift," replied the chief air traffic controller: "You are cleared for take-off. Over."
Whereupon, the orange-colored, saucer-shaped, nuclear-powered VTOL/SST began its maiden flight.
* * * * *
The turbulence the Nightshrike was experiencing began to increase. And, still, the PRIDE OF CORUSCANT and her sister-ship continued their pursuit.
"B-B-B-B-Blast them!" stammered Tocneppil: "W-W-Why w-w-won't they v-v-veer off?"
"M-M-Maybe," yelled Logunn in reply: "They f-f-fear P-P-Palpatine m-m-more than any b-b-black hole!"
Suddenly, the turbulence let up.
"What in the name of the Force...?" Obmuj rhetorically began to ask.
"It's not me, if that's what you're wondering," the human captain called down: "We've been pulled away from the event horizon...by a wormhole! Brace yourselves!!"
* * * * *
EARTH ORBIT
(MAY 25, 1983)
"Mayday! Mayday!" Steve Burton franctically shouted into the microphone...to no avail.
"Steve!" yelled Dan, his co-pilot: "We're going in!!"
* * * * *
Kyle Noticias looked up from her bowl of tomato soup.
"Was that thunder I just heard?"
Her sister Leslie did the same.
"Couldn't be. The weather forecast called for sunshine all this week."
"Finish your lunch, girls," admonished their mother: "The sooner we're done eating, the sooner our food will settle. And, the sooner we can finish rehearsing that new trapeze move."
Yet, even she had to look up at the sky when a second thunderous sound was heard.
tbc
Chapter 2: MORE DRAMATIS PERSONAE by Carycomic
SOMEWHERE OTHER THAN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY...
Commodore Yarc Micco looked at the strange world orbiting far below.
"Are you _sure_ this planet isn't on any of our charts?"
The PRIDE OF CORUSCANT's astrogator nodded, adding:
"I think that worm hole transported us to someplace in the Unknown Regions."
Micco glared at the junior officer.
"Thank you, Ensign Obvious! That will be all."
The junior officer saluted, then left. Walking as fast out of the commodore's cabin as his dignity would allow. Captain Nepo Thighah (commanding officer of the HERO OF CARTAO), shook his holographic head.
"You've only just been promoted, Yarc. Don't let all that new power go to your head, so soon!"
"Never mind, that," replied his ex-military academy roommate: "Have you found any trace of that freighter, yet?"
"Unfortunately, no. But, if they were scouting for the Rebel Alliance, you can rest assured they didn't get off any messages. We started jamming all out-going subspace radio traffic the moment we identified the Nightshrike!"
Just then, as if to correct him, a series of electronic beeps came through the intercom. Followed by the voice of the PRIDE OF CORUSCANT's radioman.
"Sparks to Commodore Micco! Sparks to Commodore Micco!"
"Go ahead, Sparks."
"I just deciphered an alert from one of our probots. It thinks it may have found the Nightshrike!"
"Dispatch a party of recon troopers, to the surface, along with one Scout-AT."
"Aye-aye, sir!"
* * * * *
ONE HOUR LATER
Alexander Fitzhugh and Barry Lockridge looked at the strange search party coming towards them. They had been out hunting suitable vegetables that Betty (the Spindrift's stewardess) could prepare as side dishes, for everyone's supper that night, when, suddenly, Barry's dog Chipper had begun growling. Fearing the approach of one of this planet's giants, they immediately hid themselves in the nearby underbrush (as their nearly three years of hard-won experience had taught them).
What was actually coming towards them, however, doubled their anxiety. For they had seen nothing like it, before!
"What do you think they are, Mr. Fitzhugh? Robots?"
"That tall contraption could certainly be one," replied the erstwhile naval officer: "But, those figures in white look more like armored warriors of some kind."
It was at this point that Chipper started growling again. And, Barry hastily tried to hush him up! But, the damage had been done.
"Hey, Sarge! I just picked up a sound to our two o'clock."
"Fan out and investigate!"
"Barry, my boy?" whispered Fitzhugh: "I think it is time we made a strategic retreat. Run!"
Barry did just that. Though, not before putting Chipper down beforehand, as the dog's four legs could get him back to the Spindrift far faster than just two!
"There they are!" yelled one of the stormtroopers.
"Halt!" blared one of the hidden loudspeakers on the exterior of the Scout-AT: "Halt, or we'll open fire!"
Naturally, the two stranded Earthmen did anything but. Prompting the pilot of the Scout-AT to order the firing of a warning shot. The co-pilot complied. Resulting in a red beam of light flying over Barry and Fitzhugh's heads, and striking a low-lying tree branch.
Half that branch was blown to splinters. The rest of it nearly landed atop Fitzhugh's head!
"Ah! Those barbarians! Barry; you continue on back to the ship. I will lead them off in this direction. Hurry!"
Barry nodded and carried out his instructions.
* * * * *
MEANWHILE...
Lee Noticias (current star of the Llebpmac Circus) was about to instruct her older daughter Kyle to jump when she heard it. A series of explosion-like sounds that appeared to be getting closer to the circus grounds. And, both of her daughters heard it, too.
"Hey, Mom!" Leslie suddenly exclaimed: "Look! Over there."
She pointed in the indicated direction. And, soon, both Kyle and their mother saw it, also. A series of red flashes blazing an almost-indiscernible trail through the grass at the edge of the circus grounds. Prompting the trio of lovely trapezists to descend and see for themselves what was going on.
tbc
Chapter 3: GIANTESSES TO THE RESCUE by Carycomic
* * * * *
Fitzhugh had come a long way since his embezzlement of U.S. Navy funds in the early spring of 1983. For one thing, the need for survival based on mutual co-operation with his fellow cast-aways had made him less self-centered. But, while he might have grown stronger, emotionally, he was still rather out of shape, physically. As a result, his breathing became more and more labored, while his pace became slower and slower. Until, finally, he collapsed, altogether.
Thereby enabling Squad B of the recon platoon to catch up to him without any further trouble.
"This is a spy for the Rebel Alliance?" exclaimed one of the stormtroopers. The skepticism plain to hear in his voice.
"Maybe he's wearing a holoshroud," replied another: "You know; just to make us _think_ he's fat."
"Knock it off, you two!" snapped the corporal in charge: "I'm trying to get Squad A on the comm-link."
A minute later, the gruff voice of Platoon Sergeant Vindeezel was identifying himself.
"Is that you, Corporal?"
"Affirmative! We have a prisoner, Sarge. What do you want us to do?"
"We're still following the other fugitive. And, he's proving somewhat more elusive than your prisoner. Send the Scout-AT to reinforce us. Meanwhile, see what preliminary info you can get out of your prisoner."
"Affirmative. Squad B, out."
No sooner had the big machine departed, however, than the corporal ordered Fitzhugh to be propped up between the other two stormtroopers. He then splashed some water from his canteen on to Fitzhugh's face, waking the overweight Earthman up
"Blub! What...? Who...?"
The corporal punched him in the stomach.
"OOOOOOOF!"
"I'm the one who's got questions, you Rebel scumbag! And, unless you want to get progressively punched lower and lower, you better give me some straight answers. Like, for instance; where's your ship? And, how many in your party?"
"I don't..." Fitzhugh began to reply.
The corporal kept his word. The second punch was one millimeter lower.
"OOOOOOF!"
"Answers that start with the words 'I don't...' generally prove to be unsatisfactory," said the corporal: "So, I'll repeat my first question. And, you'll rephrase your answer to something I can live with. Or, should I say, _you_ can live with?"
The other two stormtroopers chuckled, accordingly. But, they stopped doing so the moment their surroundings became completely dark. Which, in turn, prompted all three of them to look up...and gasp.
For looking straight down at them were three beautiful brunette giantesses! Two of them with long hair and short-sleeved leotards (one green/one brown). And a slightly taller one with short hair and a long-sleeved leotard (light blue).
"If there's one thing I can't stand," said the latter: "...it's people being bullied by those who outnumber them."
Whereupon, she crushed the still-stunned corporal beneath the blue moccasin on her right foot! An act that snapped the other two stormtroopers out of their horrified stupor. Before they bring their blaster rifles against Lee Noticias, however, they found themsleves being lifted off the ground by elder daughter Kyle (wearing the green leotard)!
"Hey, Leslie! Here; catch!"
She flung the stormtrooper in her left hand using an under-handed pitch. And, her younger sister in the brown leotard had no trouble catching the screaming trooper between the palms of her hands! Whereupon, both sisters deprived their tiny prisoners of both their weapons...and their armor.
"Hey, Mom!" exclaimed Leslie: "These little people must be identical twin brothers. They look exactly alike!"
"How's the one they were beating up?" inquired Kyle.
Lee Noticias gently lifted Fitzhugh off the ground in her cupped hands.
"He's breathing very shallowly! I'll take him to the veterinary wagon while you two take your new pets to our trailer and get started on their...obedience training."
The grins on her daughters' faces was irrefutable proof that they were more than delighted to carry out that particular instruction.
tbc
Chapter 4: FOOD FOR THOUGHT by Carycomic
* * * * *
Most other spacefarers would agree that a typical Pho Ph'eahian resembled nothing less than a blue-furred cross between a Chadra-Fan and a Codru-ji! With a tendency towards over-cleanliness that stopped just short of full-fledged hypochondria. Yet, it would also be agreed that this was cancelled out by the Pho Ph'eahians being so skilled at starship engine maintenance and repair.
No doubt a fringe benefit of having four good hands instead of just two.
It was for this reason that Captain Tocneppil had made one his partner, first mate, and chief engineer. Ta'enka'erf was no ordinary Pho Ph'eahian, however. He was also a Matukai! One of a sect of Force-sensitive warriors that had originally developed out of a Jedi splinter faction.
Where the Matukai differed from the Jedi is that the former were less centrally organized than the latter had been...and nowhere near as strictly hierarchical. The Matukai wandered the space ways as individuals, passing on their teachings and training to whomever they sensed was able and willing to be taught. Even those whom the Jedi would have disqualified as totally insensitive to the Force! And, it was the Matukai tenet about "pure body/pure mind" that had persuaded Ta'enka'erf to accept the offer of mentorship made by a Bosph religious pilgrim.
At the time of the Nightshrike's first run-in with the Star Destroyers, however, Ta'enka'erf had been busy grooming himself after one of his customarily long sonic showers. Ergo, he had gotten knocked around quite a bit from all the Imperial near-misses! Not to mention, all the gravitational turbulence from Endor's Gate.
Now, he was standing before the captain and their two bounty-hunting passengers, with a grim expression on his face (and disgusting engine grease all over his hands).
"Well?" demanded the impatient Tocneppil.
"No irreparable damage, thank the Force! We'll be able to take off again. But, the shields will take some time to fix. Especially, if we have to worry about an Imp blockade at the other end of that worm hole. And, that's assuming the worm hole isn't a one-way passage, to begin with! It's lucky for you that you're not Corellian. Because, if you were, you'd probably be considered a traitor, what with all the ships you've lost through your daredevil flying!!"
Tocneppil grinned and shrugged: "We can't all be Han Solo."
Before he could make any caustic retort, Ta'enka'erf suddenly stiffened. While Bub the Dinko began to simultaneously growl. Both Logunn and Tocneppil went for their blasters.
"What's wrong?" demanded the latter.
"Someone's in trouble."
Without elaborating any further, the Pho Ph'eahian snatched up a pair of vibro-bladed axes and ran off into the woods. Logunn and Obmuj following along behind.
* * * * *
MEANWHILE, AT THE LLEBPMAC CIRCUS...
Dr. Brulle had legally changed the spelling of his surname after getting out of prison, so he could get a fresh start. Hence, his current employment as the circus' general practioner and veterinarian. And, with all the traveling around he had done, since he was hired, he had thought it highly unlikely he would ever meet one of the Spindrifters ever again.
It should have occurred to someone of his age and experience that "highly unlikely" is never the same as "completely impossible."
He had recognized Fitzhugh right away! But, he said nothing, somehow managing to keep his face and voice completely impassive.
"Well, Doc?" asked the nervous Lee.
"Nothing to worry about, my dear. Just simple exhaustion caused mostly by excessive running. And, given what you just told me about the minor beating he suffered, he doubtless had good reason to run! Where are the little people who accosted him?"
Lee smiled: "Being taught a suitable lesson, I'm sure."
In that much, she was right.
"Ready, Sis?" asked Kyle
"Ready," replied Leslie.
"No, please! Not again!" begged the Imperial clones in unison. Yet, to no avail. Because each one (dangling upside-down from each girl's right hand) were slowly dipped into the tomato soup, once more. Head-first; then all the way up to their ankles! Whereupon, they were lifted back out...and slurped on.
Likewise, all the way up to their ankles.
tbc
Chapter 5: GETTING FITZHUGH FIT by Carycomic
* * * * *
Barry and Chipper might have had the initial advantage, knowing the local terrain as well as they did. Yet, between the Scout-At's height advantage (close to eight meters tall) and the thermo-electronic scanners it had aboard, it was only a matter of time before Squad A caught up to the pair.
"Give it up, kid," ordered Sgt. Vindeezel: "You're cornered. Just tell us where the rest of your group are, and we won't hurt you or the dog."
"Oh, really!" exclaimed Barry (with as much defiance as he could muster): "I'm supposed to take the word of an SID collaborator?"
The Imperial stormtroopers looked at each other. Only their helmets masking their momentary confusion.
"We're not with the SID (whoever they are). We're just regular soldiers in the Imperial Army. And, we're simply here to take you and your shipmates in for questioning."
Ta'enka'erf had heard enough. He used his free pair of hands to press a hidden button at the base of each vibro-axe handle. As a result of which, the handles telescopically lengthened. Until built-in magnets at the very bottom of each extension joined together. Essentially forming a double-headed version of the Matukai polearm (a.k.a."wan-shen").
Then, after activating the vibro-motors, he charged forward. Spinning the wan-shen in an eye-blurring circle as he did so!
"LONG LIVE THE NEW REPUBLIC!"
The stormtroopers automatically began to open fire. But, the wan-shen deflected every single energy bolt just as easily as any lightsaber! So, the Scout-AT's pilot ordered the machine's twin laser cannons to swing around and take out the Pho Ph'eahian. But, Obmuj the Cragmoloid got there, first! Using the momentum of his charge to tackle the Scout-At around its right leg...and thereby knock it down upon its left side.
Naturally, this disoriented the two Imperial gunners inside long enough for Obmuj to get back on his feet and rip off the main hatch. Whereupon, Logunn arrived and said:
"Dinner time, Bub."
He flung the dinko inside the lop-sided cockpit and listened to the death cries of the trapped Imperials with a shamelessly feral grin. That is; till one of the stormtroopers suddenly began firing at him! So, Logunn began firing back. Ta'enka'erf' deflecting any other bolts that might stray too close to Barry and his dog.
It was only after the Zehethbran had whittled Squad A from five men down to three that the stormtroopers return fire became cover fire. And, Obmuj was tall enough to see why.
"The top kick has a code-key thermal detonator!"
That was all the incentive Ta'enka'erf needed. He charged toward the stormtroopers with the same unbelievable speed as before. With Logunn providing what cover fire of his own he could! And, with a display of acrobatics worthy of a zero-gravity environment, the Pho Ph'eahian managed to reach the stormtrooper platoon sergeant...
...and amputate his right hand before he could cease pressing the pressure-release button.
"Obmuj!" exclaimed Logunn.
"On it," cried the Cragmoloid.
Sure enough; he caught the thermal detonator (disembodied hand, and all) in the massive palm of his own left hand. Then, he transerred it to this right, before throwing it skyward with all of his pachydermoid might! With Logunn firing a blaster bolt in the same direction.
The aerial blast was both blinding and deafening to those below. That is; those without the polarizing lenses built into the skull-like helmets of Imperial stormtroopers. For by the time Barry, Chipper, and his rescuers could reasonably see and hear again, the three surviving stormtroopers were gone!
* * * * *
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE CIRCUS...
Lee entered the trailer to behold both her daughters sitting at opposite ends of the kitchen table. With their little captives trapped between each of their bare
feet.
"Oooooooh, Leslie!" sighed Kyle: "Isn't this the best foot massage you've ever had?"
"Oooooh, yeah, Sis. These little guys are great!"
It was, in fact, the almost-naked stormtroopers who were being caressed by their captors' feet. As each of their arms had been spirit-glued to their sides!
"It's nice to see you two doing something constructive with your new pets," said their mother: "In the meantime, allow me to introduce Mr. Alexander Fitzhugh. Our other new house guest."
"How do you do, ladies?" Fitzhugh chivalrously greeted them from Lee's cupped hands (the girls tittering at his courtly bow).
"He'll be staying with us while he convalesces," continued Lee: "Which will hopefully be long enough for us to burn off some of his excess weight."
Fitzhugh spun about like a sucker-punched boxer.
"WHAT???"
tbc
Chapter 6: COMPLICATIONS SET IN by Carycomic
* * * * *
At first, Steve Burton thought he was imagining things. Or, that Fitzhugh was pulling some kind of practical joke, based on a corny old nightclub joke.
"A wolverine, an elephant, and a blue bat with four arms walk into a bar."
Yet, he was not hallucinating. And, Fitzhugh was nowhere to be seen. All he _could_ see was Barry, holding Chipper in his arms, riding on the neck of a bipedal pachyderm!
"Capt. Burton! Capt. Burton!" shouted the boy: "Have I got a story to tell _you_!"
Obmuj set the boy down on the ground, so he could introduce the Cragmoloid and his two companions. When Barry was finished, Steve introduced himself and the rest of the cast-aways.
"This is my co-pilot, Dan Ericson, and his wife, Betty. To my right? Our resident engineer, Mark Wilson, and his wife Valerie."
The three mammalian humanoids nodded their heads, in greeting, as one.
"Barry said you came through the same worm hole that we did," observed Logunn (trying to break the awkward tension).
"Uh, yes, that's right," replied Steve: "We've been marooned here for going on three years. Or, at least, that's what we call a certain unit of time..."
"We know what a standard year is," grumbled Obmuj: "We have humans where we come from, as well."
"But, none of them has ever heard of planet Earth?" inquired Mark.
Ta'enka'erf shook his head, adding: "Judging by the relative primitiveness of your own spacecraft, I doubt you've heard of Coruscant or Emperor Palpatine, either."
"Primitive?" echoed Dan.
He started to bristle with injured pride, but Betty quickly calmed him down with a reassuring right hand on his left shoulder. And, to further calm him down, Steve diverted the topic of conversation back to the missing Fitzhugh.
"Would your own ship be able to help us locate him?"
"I'll get on the comm-link and see," replied Logunn.
* * * * *
At the same moment, Platoon Sgt. Vindeezel was being treated by the medic of the platoon. The latter applying a bacta-pack over the cauterized stump that had once been the sergeant's right hand. He and the two other survivors of Squad A had made it back to the landing craft being guarded by Squads C and D. Whereupon, the senior-ranking PFC was given a brevet promotion to corporal, prior to his contacting the PRIDE OF CORUSCANT.
With the new corporal's comm-link held before his face, Sergeant Vindeezel gave a brief oral report about their encounter with the rebels.
"Recommend...deployment...of our full...contingent, sir."
"You seriously think there are that many, planet-side?"
"Yes, sir! Especially,...since we...still have...no word...from Squad...B."
"Very well, Sergeant. Leave the rest of your platoon, down there, to keep the landing site secure. You return to the ship to get a bionic prosthetic. That way, you can help us return planet-side. In force!"
* * * * *
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE CIRCUS...
Fitzhugh sat with his back resting against the palm of Lee's left hand. As her right hand was currently feeding him chicken soup through an eye-dropper!
"Mmmmmmmm-mmmmmmm! You're right, madam. That _is_ good. Yet, with all due respect; you seriously expect me to believe that is _all_ you eat? Every single day?!"
"Well, not for breakfast, obviously," replied the widowed trapezist: "But, yes, half of our lunches and dinners do consist of it. You see, when this circus' prior owner, Mr. Ekim Ydarb, ultimately had to declare bankruptcy, it was bought by the Llebpmac Health Food Company, who saw it as a golden opportunity to increase the sales of their more nutritional foodstuffs. Hence, the introduction of popcorn with melted corn-oil margarine and/or sea salt. Plus, sugarless carbonated beverages with real fruit flavoring. All for the healthy snacking pleasure of our audiences!"
"Good Lord," muttered Fitzhugh: "A dietetic Chautauqua show!* "
"Open wide, Alexander," Lee said, as she approached his little mouth with more chicken soup.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!" was all he said in reply (grasping the tail end of the eye dropper like a baby with a bottle).
* * * * *
MEANWHILE AT S.I.D. HEADQUARTERS...
Officer Kazuma knocked on the door, then waited.
"Come in!" Inspector Kobick called out.
"Sorry to bother you, sir. But, we've been getting a series of strange reports from the national forest just outside the city."
"What kinds of reports?"
"Sonic booms; explosions; and unidentified flying objects."
Kobick took off his glasses.
"The national forest, you say?"
The officer merely nodded.
"Get me my car!"
tbc
End Notes:
*Chautauqua show: a form of tent show that was popular in the United States from 1903 to 1930. Sort of half-carnival (a.k.a. "fun fair") and half-outdoor revival meeting. What with the inspirational music performances alternating with public lectures on theology and so forth. The name is supposedly derived from a pioneering institute in summer and correspondence schooling established at Chautauqua (pronounced "Shuh-taw-kwuh") Lake, New York.
Ch.7: INSERT "IMPERIAL DEATH MARCH" HERE by Carycomic
* * * * *
As soon as Ta'enka'erf had run off (with Obmuj and Logunn right on his heels), Captain Tocneppil had had no choice. He got out his old binary translator unit, and strapped it to his left wrist, while plugging it into a battery pack on his left hip. Then, he activated the astromech droids. Officially, their call signs were R2-A1; R2-U2; and R4-Q2.
But, he just referred to them as "Bing, Bang, and Boom," respectively. A nickname they had earned countless times, what with the almost-human temperamentality they displayed whenever they got in each other's way during any sort of maintenance or repair work under anybody else's supervision but the Pho Ph'eahian's. Indeed, there were times when Tocneppil was unalterably convinced that Ta'enka'erf had deliberately programmed them to be a bit _too_ much like himself!
He was sighing for what felt like the thousandth time when the call came in over the comm-link.
"Ta'enka'erf? It's about time! When...?"
"Sorry, Captain. But, I've got a long story to tell you. And, I have to do it in the tersest fashion possible."
Suffice it to say that Tocneppil was astounded by the news of other humans being shipwrecked on this planet. He was also, quite naturally, disturbed by the revelation of stormtroopers being encountered...and killed.
"You know the ones that got away will call for reinforcements," was the first thing he said when his first mate was finished.
"Affirmative. So, the faster those droids can get the ship fixed, the faster we can use her to find the one called Fitzhugh. And, then, get off this rock!"
"I'd be happy to oblige," replied Tocneppil: "But, we'd make more progress if you were to get back here and _personally_ supervise them."
Almost on cue, there was a sudden bang, followed by a veritable cacophony of accusatory clicks, whistles, and beeps.
"Consider that suggestion an order," snapped Tocneppil.
Ta'enka'erf was chuckling so hard, it sounded like he was stuttering when he acknowledged and signed off!
* * * * *
At that same moment, if there was one person on this whole strange planet who had even less of a sense of humor than the captain of the Nightshrike, it was Alexander Fitzhugh. As soon as she had judged that he had had long enough to metabolize his food, Lee Noticias began making him do calisthenics!
Starting with sit-ups.
"ONE and TWO and THREE and FOUR!
MELT more POUNDS off. MORE, MORE MORE!"
"Please...madam. I...am not...built...for such...rigors!"
Lee just smiled and ignored him. Using her thumbs and forefingers to grasp him--gently, but firmly--by his shoulders, and make him touch his toes. The best she could do, though, is lean him down toward his knees. And the stormtroopers who had been captured with him might have found this funny, under other circumstances.
Unfortunately, for them, this was _not_ one of those other circumstances. Nor were Lee's daughters sitting and grinning at Fitzhugh's sit-ups out of malicious amusement. Rather, it was because they had their new pets tucked securely between their legs!
Loogar was pinned between Kyle's muscular calves; and Roogar between those of Leslie. With only each one's head barely visible.
"Come on, you guys," said Kyle: "I thought you told us you were physically fit."
"Yeah," agreed Leslie: "Yet, so far, all you've done is--teehee--slightly tickle us!"
Finally, Loogar could stand it no more.
"Please,...Mistress. Let me...out? Pretty...please?"
To emphasize his sincerity, he began doing the only thing he could do, what with his hands pinned to his sides. He began kissing the epidermis of her leg in his immediate vicinity!
Kyle responded, accordingly.
"Hahahahahahahahahaha! Loogar, you naughty boy!"
She removed him from between her legs and raised him up to eye level with her left hand.
"I don't know whether to spank you or thank you!"
"I'm your pet for life, Mistress," the tiny trooper replied: "You may do with me whatever you wish."
"OOOOOOOOOH!" Kyle cooed: "Such a little sweet talker. How's yours doing, Sis?"
Leslie used her own left hand to lift up Roogar and put him in her right hand.
"How about it, squirt? You still have a temper shorter than your cute little bod?"
Roogar blushed and shook his head.
"You may also do what you wish with me, Mistress."
Leslie squealed with glee, before engulfing her little pet's head with a long--and tremendous--wet kiss.
* * * * *
While that light-heartedness was going on, however, two flotillas of landing craft had made planet-fall. Some of them discharging elephantine AT-AT's full of stormtrooper infantry. Others, squadron after squadron of recon troopers on speeder bikes. And, all of this occurring within relative spitting distance...
...of the access road presently being traveled by Inspector Kobic and Officer Kazuma.
tbc
Chapter 8: WHO IS THE DEADLIEST BAD GUY? by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
This chapter is dedicated to Sir Pixis, whose pesky RLC's (Real Life Concerns) continue to prevent his honoring us with more stories and/or reviews.
* * * * *
"Sparks to Commodore."
Yarc Micco flipped a switch on the desk in his cabin.
"Go ahead, Sparks."
"General Prilosec just called from the surface, sir. The legion from our ship, and the legion from Captain Thighah's, are fully deployed."
"Excellent. Tell him to have half of the 1209th do a recon-in-force of the area where Recondo Squad B disappeared. Send the other half to the Nightshrike's landing zone. I want at least two prisoners taken alive for questioning. Otherwise, they are free to employ lethal force. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
The radioman signed off, so he could relay the message. Upon receiving his orders, General Prilosec implemented them without delay. As a result, the 1216th Legion remained behind to keep the Imperial landing zone secure.
Ten minutes later, the speeder bike recondos scouting ahead, for Regiment 1/1209th, reported a strange strip of open ground ahead.
"It's too wide and too straight to be natural, sir. It looks kind of like a half-constructed spaceport! Your orders, sir?"
"Keep circling that area until the first wave of infantry reaches it. Which should be in...five minutes."
"Acknowledged, sir!"
* * * * *
FIVE-AND-A-HALF MINUTES LATER
Inspector Kobic looked at his driver.
"How much farther does this access road extend?"
"It intersects with County Route 2 in another five miles, sir" replied Officer Kazuma.
"Hmmmph!" snorted the inspector, derisively: "And, nothing anomalous in all that...Halt! HALT! STOP THE CAR!!"
Officer Kazuma slammed on the brakes.
"Do you see what I see?" Kobic half-whispered.
His driver merely nodded; temporarily at a loss for words. For there, crossing the road directly ahead of them, was what could only be described as a military column! But, one that seemed composed entirely...
...of ambulatory toy soldiers.
The two men got out of the car, and slowly approached this incongruous sight. Their service revolvers drawn. Whereupon, Kobic fired a warning shot into the air.
"Attention! This is Inspector Kobic of the SID. You Little People are under arrest. I hereby order you to lay down your arms and surrender, immediately and unconditionally. Otherwise, we will be forced to..."
The first of the AT-AT's immediately opened fire. Followed by several others, as well as the stormtroopers on the ground. The engine of the giants' car was consequently blown, to the proverbial smithereens, in less than thirty seconds! Prompting the two SID men to run and hide behind it.
Kobic reholstered his revolver.
"Quick! Pop the trunk. We need better fire power."
Officer Kazuma did as ordered. Using one of the keys on his key chain to unlock the trunk and hastily withdraw two pump-action shotguns. Along with an equal number of boxes of twelve-gauge ammunition. Upon loading the magazines of these weapons to capacity, Kobic and Kazuma looked at each other...
...and nodded as one.
"Fire at will!" shouted Kobic.
The blasts from the gigantic pair of shotguns was as devastating as any turbo-laser howitzer. The first blast, alone, wiped out an entire company of stormtroopers. Plus, two of the elephantine AT-AT's! Prompting General Prilosec to call some of the speeder bike recondos for air support.
The first indication that the SID men were being attacked from behind was when Officer Kazuma felt the sting of a laser blast hit the back of his neck. This was officially confirmed when he suffered more painful damage to the calf of his right leg.
"Inspector! I'm hit!"
Kobic spun about and started pumping off rounds skyward. As if he were shooting at ducks from a hunters' blind. Then, he bent down and picked up Kazuma. His left arm around the latter's shoulders in order to support him. And, Kazuma's shotgun-toting left arm stretched outward for counter-balance.
"I told---everyone---this---would happen," muttered Kobic, in labored gasps: "And, now---it has. Our planet's---been invaded---by Little People!"
tbc
Ch. 9: COULD THINGS GET ANY MORE COMPLICATED? by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
SOMEWHERE OTHER THAN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY...
* * * * *
Imperial Commodore Yarc Micco could not believe he had heard right.
" 'An incredibly powerful race of giants?'" he exclaimed (in unintended repetition): "Oh, come now, general! This is real life. Not some Dorg Nilres holovid!!"
General Prilosec glowered at his (nominally) superior officer.
"Holovid characters don't decimate half of one's legion, either...sir! Take a look at the closed-circuit recording made by one of our few surviving AT-AT's."
The holographic scene being played out before him, suddenly increased in width and depth. And, Micco unconsciously gasped as he beheld two strangely dressed humanoids who appeared to be twice as tall as any All Terrain Armored Transport!
Then, came the replay of the almost one-sided battle. Complete with strange, hand-held cannons that thundered louder than any spaceship blasting off from Coruscant. That is; till one blast was followed by nothing but static. At which point, General Prilosec's visage reappeared on screen.
"How would you like us to handle this, Commodore?"
"Send a handful of your speeder bike recondos after those two giants. Keep the rest of your men after those rebels. We must know where they are, and if they made any holovid recordings of Death Star II! If they have, you know what to do."
"Terminate with extreme prejudice?"
Micco nodded and signed off.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, sunset was beginning to paint the Llebpmac Circus with its last pretty colors of the day.
"OK, girls," said Lee Noticias: "It's Opening Day, tomorrow. So, let's turn in early."
"You got it, Mom," chorused Kyle and Leslie. Whereupon, they began stripping off their leotards, and down to their bras and panties,...right in front of the three little men.
"Ladies!" gasped Fitzhugh: "Have you no sense of modesty or decorum, whatsoever?"
The two young women giggled.
"I don't know what you're complaining about," replied Kyle: "Loogar and Roogar don't seem to mind."
She pointed to a couple of tell-tale bulges in the storm troopers' undershorts. Leslie, seeing this, giggled some more, before adding:
"Maybe Fitzie's just jealous because he doesn't have anywhere to sleep...like they do."
"W-W-What do you mean?" stammered the erstwhile con man.
Whereupon, Kyle and Leslie picked up their new pets, in their respective right hands, and then stuffed them down their respective cleavages! All before shimmying into their respective (and pristinely white) "baby doll" night gowns.
"Such un-lady-like behavior," muttered Fitzhugh.
This caused Lee to laugh (though not mean-spiritedly).
"Don't worry, Alexander. I'm prudish enough for all six of us. You can have a nice modest place to sleep, all to yourself. Here!"
Whereupon, Lee picked up the khaki-clad Earthman and carried him bodily over to a hamster cage!
"No, wait," Fitzhugh began to plead.
But, to no avail. Lee placed him inside the cage, before shutting the rooftop hatch, padlocking it, and then covering the whole thing with a white, silk cloth.
"See you in the morning, my pet."
Fitzhugh looked at his surroundings with all the facial despondency of a Bassett hound. There was only a giant matchbox (also lined with white silk) for him to sleep in. Plus, all he had to eat and drink was a bowl of fried banana chips and an upside-down bottle of water, in that order.
Meanwhile, Captain Tocneppil had finally managed to get Bing, Bang, and Boom back aboard the Nightshrike, before closing the boarding ramp in preparation for the short jump to the Spindrift's landing site.
"Heh!" he snorted, derisively, to himself: "I came here to help smuggle an Endorian hanadak to Nar Shadda. Now, I'm picking up cast-aways from a planet I've never even heard of! Could things _possibly_ get anymore complicated? I ask you."
tbc
Chapter 10: BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR... by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
Sorry for the long delay. The Force finally eroded my writer's block.
* * * * *
Steve, Dan, and Mark watched as Captain Tocneppil brought the Nightshrike in for a landing. Ta'enka'erf (the Pho'pheahian mechanic) had kept his comm-link open so that his skipper could home in on the signal. And, thereby, bring the YT-1000 freighter in for a better landing in this pitch-darkness.
"I hate to admit it," said Mark: "But, that blue bat was right. She _is_ more advanced than the Spindrift!"
"Stands to reason," replied Steve: "She was designed and built--on a whole other planet--for interstellar travel."
"Big deal!" fumed Dan (the overly sensitive co-pilot): "He still didn't have to be so rude about it."
"Maybe blunt honesty is as natural, for his species, as breathing," added a fourth voice (joining the conversation from behind).
"Barry!" exclaimed Steve: "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Sorry, Captain Burton. But, I couldn't sleep. I'm still too worried about what might've happened to Mr. Fitzhugh."
"Well, if it's any consolation, those other two talking animals..."
"Logunn and Obmuj," Barry corrected him.
"Right. If anyone can track him down, in this pitch darkness, I sense it's those two."
* * * * *
Meanwhile, in one of the trailers of the Llebpmac Circus, a young woman with short, wavy blonde hair was gyrating back and forth in front of a full-length mirror. Wearing nothing more than a scandalously translucent red costume. Her name was Greta Gault. And, not too long ago, she had been the up-and-coming research assistant of a geneticist who had found a way to asexually reproduce exact replicas of living organisms, almost instantaneously!
Including two of those Little People that were always in the news.
Yet, those same Little People had ultimately brought about the destruction of the laboratory. Forcing her to join Ydarb's Circus as an abdominal ecdysiast* in the sideshow. Not that she had minded that, entirely! While her former employer had greatly--and refreshingly-- admired her for her brains, it was still nice for a girl her age to be appreciated for her looks. And, Mr. Ydarb had been _very_ appreciative!
That is; till he was driven into bankruptcy by all those tax audits. Audits that she had no doubt had been instigated by the SID as retaliation for not immediately turning in the Little People he had (briefly) taken captive. Now, look at her! Demoted, by the new owners, to beverage concessionaire.
Oh! If only she had a couple of those Little People as her captives, right now...
* * * * *
The Imperial speeder bike recondos had come to a halt. Initially intending to do so only as long as it took to give General Prilosec an update on their progress (or lack thereof). Then, they heard it. The tell-tale sounds of Corellian spacecraft engines!
"Sounds like it flew by overhead, in that direction."
The second recondo emphasized this point by gesturing behind them. The first recondo agreed, and directed his subordinate to follow him up above the foliage. There, they got a good glimpse of the receding freighter's exhaust ports (which, in this darkness, were lit up like a Wookiee Tree of Life). They were only halfway to catching up with it, however, when they suddenly got side-tracked.
Side-tracked by some more lights...from directly below them.
"What do you think, Sarge? Could it be the rebel encampment we were told to look for?"
"Only one way to find out for sure," replied the seasoned veteran: "Follow me."
They swooped down in stealth mode, and put their speeder bikes on hover, just to the right of what appeared to be a giant square sheet of transparisteel. Slowly, they moved forward, until they could each crane their helmeted heads around the corner for a better view.
"Sithspawn!" swore the second recondo: "Get a load of her!!"
"Quiet, you idiot!" hissed the older trooper: "With those giant ears, of hers, she might hear you."
"Are you kidding?" scoffed the rookie: "Over that weird music she's dancing to? I don't think so!"
Unfortunately, for him, his speeder bike quietly drifted in a one hundred eighty degree semi-circle, while the two recondos were preoccupied with their mild argument. Consequently, his reflection was in full view behind Greta's own.
Nor did she fail to notice this.
"I have to be careful," she thought to herself: "I have to time this just right. It's like an answer to my prayers!"
Thus, she slowly began inching backwards, away from the mirror. Holding her red translucent veil above her head as she did so. And, when she finally judged the distance to the open window to be close enough,...
...she struck.
The rookie recondo shrieked like a girl as he suddenly found himself being virtually netted by the gyrating giantess; speeder bike and all!
tbc
End Notes:
*That's "belly dancer" to you and me. ;-)
Chapter 11: A WHOLE NEW WORLD...OF TROUBLE. by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
I apologize for the continued tardiness. RLC's struck again.
THE LLEBPMAC CIRCUS
* * * * *
Greta Gault grinned as she unwrapped her translucent red veil from around her captive. That grin briefly became a frown of puzzlement when she saw the storm trooper in his white armor. But, once she realized she had not captured a nocturnal flying insect, by mistake, the grin reappeared.
With sadistic slowness, she began to take off his armor, piece by piece. The former research scientist took stock of his anatomical features as she did so. Black, curly hair. Golden-brown complexion. Well-developed musculature. Evidently, this Little Person kept himself in top physical shape!
"Can you understand me?" she asked (slowly, at first).
The petrified trooper nodded.
"Do you have a name?"
He nodded again.
"Well?" she persisted: "What is it???"
"R-R-Raza Daza," he stammered in reply: "Corporal; Imperial Armed Forces. Serial number; 987654321."
"Oooooh!" she cooed (in mock-amazement): "A military man! And, what were you doing outside the window to my trailer, Corporal Daza? Some kind of espionage mission?"
"Raza Daza," he repeated (with a little more defiance now): "Corporal: Immmmmmmph...!"
A slight squeeze of her right hand shut him up.
"Never mind. That's not important, now. Not compared to what's going to happen to you, next!"
Meanwhile, in the nearby woods, Logunn of ZeHeth and Obmuj of Ankus were slowly approaching the meadow where the circus had encamped. Logunn was the professional bounty hunter of the duo. So, he had taken the lead in their search for the missing Fitzhugh.
And, it had proven quite sobering when they found the crushed remains of the ground recondos that briefly captured him.
"To think that I used to be sensitive about my height," grunted the Cragmoloid: "But, now, I'm starting to feel so puny!"
"Well, like the Gungans say on Naboo," observed Logunn: " 'Always there be bigger fishums in the sea.' "
Obmuj was about to give a snappy rejoinder when a new voice interrupted their conversation.
"You two! Halt, in the name of the Galactic Empire!"
"Imp trooper!" yelled the Zehethbran: "Duck!"
No sooner had he said this than he and the airborne recondo began exchanging blaster fire with each other. And, the latter clearly had the advantage with his auto-hovering perch. Obmuj, however, was unhesitant in correcting that.
The Cragmoloid picked up what the locals would no doubt consider a mere pebble...and threw it skywards at the speeder bike.
WHAM!
The "pebble" hit its intended target, dead center of the undercarriage. Making it angle upwards ninety degrees. Just enough to topple its rider from the saddle!
"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOA!!!"
"Obmuj, quick!" cried Logunn: "Get underneath him. We'll need to interrogate him."
The Cragmoloid did as instructed. Catching the Imperial recondo in his arms as if he were a newborn calf.
"Put me down, you elephatine rebel scumb..."
Obmuj knocked him unconscious with a gentle (for his species) head-butt.
"Good going," said Logunn: "Let's bring him back to the Spindrift. We'll resume the search for Fitzhugh, tomorrow."
Ironically, Greta Gault had heard none of the blaster fire. As she had resumed playing--at a much higher volume--the phonograph record containing the belly dance music she had been gyrating to, earlier. Only, this time, she had something extra as part of her costume.
A naked Imperial storm trooper pinned to her left areola with a fringed pastie.
tbc
Chapter 12: GOOD COP OR BAD COP? by Carycomic
* * * * *
Ebirc Semit awoke with a pounding headache. That was the first thing he noticed. The second thing he noticed is that, when he instinctively tried to rub his forehead, he found he could not move his right arm. And, the identical failure, on the part of his left arm, was the third thing he noticed just prior to full realization.
He was tied down!
To be more precise, he was staked out in a spread-eagle fashion. With all his armor evidently having been stripped off him while he was out cold. The only thing preserving his dignity, at that moment, was his pair of Imperial-issue boxer shorts!
"Wakey-wakey, soldier boy," chanted a gutturally accented voice in Galactic Basic: "Time to answer some questions."
"Ebirc Semit," replied the storm trooper recondo: "Sergeant; Imperial Armed Forces. Serial number; 1057..."
A furry right hook interrupted his defiant litany.
"Spare us the usual crap and just tell us what we want to know right away. Like what the frell are you Imps doing in a backwater system like Endor?"
Semit spit out some blood...in the direction of his interrogator's voice.
"And, if I don't, what're you gonna do; torture me? That would make you rebel scum nothing but hypocrites! Always bragging how you're trying to restore democracy to the whole galaxy. How the Empire is..."
He was interrupted once again. Only this time, by Logunn's snarling Zehethbran visage.
"Point one, solider boy; I ain't part of the Rebel Alliance. I'm a professional bounty hunter. Which means I can legally do anything I want to law-breaking human xenophobes like you!"
"And, point two?" demanded Semit (still just as defiantly).
Logunn's ensuing grin was positively feral.
"Here, Bub! Come here, boy."
Semit consequently lost some of his defiance when saw (and smelled) the dinko come running up at the sound of its master's voice.
"Point two," the Zehethbran now replied: "If you don't start answering my questions, honestly and unhesitatingly, Bub, here, is gonna chew on your sausage."
The resulting mental picture made Semit blanche whiter than his battle armor.
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE CIRCUS...
...Corporal Daza was on the verge of complete suffocation, by the time Greta Gault had decided he had had enough. As a result, she stopped dancing long enough to remove the pastie, from her left areola, and place the rookie storm trooper on her kitchenette table top.
She smiled at the rapid-fire way he began to breathe in and out, trying to reoxygenate his system.
"Very good, Little Corporal! You were the most gentle dance partner I've ever had. So, as your reward, I'll do a slower dance. Just for you!"
She then changed phonograph records. Following which, she resumed her abdominal gyrations. But, this time, she exchanged speed for sensuality. Her midriff undulating, most hypnotically. At least, from Corporal Daza's perspective.
He just lay there, flat on his back. Watching the undulations, literally without blinking. And, after about five minutes of this spell-bound inaction, Greta Gault's smile turned into a wicked grin.
"Do you like what you see, Little Corporal?"
"Y-Yes,...ma'am."
"Do you want me to continue?"
"Y-Yes,...ma'am."
"Would you do _anything_ to insure I continue?"
"Y-Yes,...ma'am."
"Even answer all my questions, without omission or hesitation?"
"Y-Yes,...ma'am."
"Good! Then, let's start with an easy one. How many other Little People are with you, on this planet?"
tbc
Chapter 13: NO REST FOR THE WEARY by Carycomic
* * * * *
While Logunn interrogated the captive Imperial recondo, Obmuj explained to the Spindrift cast-aways the history of the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire it was fighting to overthrow. Needless to say, all six humans were stunned by what they heard.
"A moon-sized space station?" exclaimed Steve Burton: "Powerful enough to destroy an entire planet?! How could such a thing even be possible?"
Mark Wilson (ever the brilliant engineer) was the first to offer a likely explanation.
"That super-laser cannon might actually have fired a concentrated stream of laser-guided antimatter particles! Matter and antimatter explosively cancel each other out when they collide. So, it's quite possible someone developed a way to use such a particle beam as a form of drill. Boring all the way to the center of...what was the name of that planet, again?"
Obmuj lowered his head in sadness.
"Alderaan."
Mark nodded his thanks in grim sympathy, before continuing: "...Alderaan, where the antimatter would've initiated an unstoppable chain reaction."
Betty Ericson looked at the Cragmoloid.
"And, all that happened six years ago, where you're from?"
"Almost to the day," Obmuj replied.
As the Cragmoloid was naturally too big to fit inside the Spindrift, the cast-aways had decided to have their dinner outdoors under a makeshift canopy. And, when they were finally through eating, Ta'enka'erf of Pho'pheah got up to help Betty do the dishes. She protested, of course, claiming that he, Obmuj, and Captain Tocneppil were guests! But, the Pho'pheahian Matukai would hear none of it.
"Cleanliness is as second-nature to my people as respiration. Just lead me to your galley."
Betty smilingly shrugged and complied. Thus, neither she nor Ta'enka'erf saw Logunn come walking back into camp. With Ebirc Semit slung over the ZeHethbran's right shoulder.
"Aw, don't tell me...," began Tocneppil.
Logunn shook his furry head: "He's just unconscious. It became too much for him. Trying to answer my questions without inhaling Bub's b.o. into the bargain!"
He then flung the storm trooper recondo to the ground, with all the gentleness of someone who had been carrying a heavy backpack for too long and too far. Obmuj did not fail to notice this, and asked what--if anything--Logunn had learned from their captive.
"You're not gonna belief this," replied the former: "The Empire is at it, again. They've got a second Death Star nearing completion!"
MEANWHILE, IN THE NEARBY CAPITOL CITY...
Inspector Kobic had just finished completing his written report--regarding the bizarre fire fight in the national forest, earlier that afternoon--when he answered a buzz from his intercom.
"Yes, Miss Niwri?"
"Sorry to disturb you, sir. But, just as I was about to leave for the day, the phone rang. There was a woman on the line who identified herself as Greta Gault. And, she claimed she has a Little Person in her custody that has told her something unbelievably frightening!"
Kobic took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.
"Tell her to drop him off, with the desk sergeant in the lobby, first thing tomorrow morning. I need some sleep!"
"I'm sorry, sir. But, she'll only deliver him into your hands, personally. And, she said that if that wasn't enough incentive, I'm to mention the words...'invasion force.' "
Kobic's fatigue disappeared, almost instantly.
"Did this woman give you her name and address?"
"Yes, sir. The LLebpmac Circus. Encamped at the fairgrounds near the Sulac National Forest."
"Get me my new car and driver. Then, call the commander of the Tactical Squad. He and his men are to meet me at the circus, ASAP! And, they're to arrive...armed to the teeth. "
tbc
Chapter 14: DOGGED PURSUIT by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
THE LLEBPMAC CIRCUS
* * * * *
Inspector Kobic of the SID looked at the Little Person with open-mouthed astonishment. Then, he looked down at the items in the palm of his right hand: a suit of white armor; a matching helmet; a firearm of some kind; and what looked like a bicycle without wheels.
"All these are his?" the inspector asked.
"They were issued to him," Greta Gault corrected: "By his commanding officers aboard what he calls an ' Imperial Star Destroyer.' "
Kobic blanched when heard that term.
"Can his race really do that? Destroy stars, I mean."
"Well, he claims this Galactic Empire he serves destroyed a whole planet! So, doing the same thing to a star might not be much more of a stretch."
"And he told you all of this, voluntarily?!"
Greta Gault smiled.
"Well, not right away. Only after I danced for him...to a subliminally hypnotic tune."
"I beg your pardon?"
The biologist-turned-belly dancer explained how she and her former mentor had developed a technique for the accelerated cloning of small vertebrates...including Little People.
"The next stage of our research would've involved keeping them under control through subsonically-induced hypnotic conditioning," she added: "Using what is popularly called 'elevator music' as a carrier frequency! Unfortunately, we under-estimated the ingenuity of the actual Little People. And, their sabotage resulted in our laboratory being blown up."
Before Inspector Kobic could ask her any further questions, he was interrupted by one of the uniformed SID men.
"Inspector? One of the track-and-attack dogs has found something."
Kobic followed the uniformed officer to the indicated area. A grassy spot, near the edge of the Sulac National Forest, that seemed to have a rather pungent odor hanging over it.
"What do you have?"
One of the other officers shone his flashlight on several reddish-colored splotches on the ground.
"Is that blood?" Kobic asked.
The lieutenant in charge of the Tactical Squad nodded. Adding how the T&A dogs were already backtracking whatever had left the powerful scent. Which, in turn, caused Kobic to grin.
"Well, then, what are we waiting for? Give me a flashlight, and let's catch up!"
* * * * *
MEANWHILE, HIGH ABOVE THE PLANET...
"Any luck, yet?" asked Captain Nepo Thigha.
"Still no radio contact," replied the hologram of General Prilosec: "So, I took the liberty of activating the subcutaneous homing chips in their right shoulders. We got positive readings, almost immediately! I now have the advance guard of Legion 1 already on the way to the indicated positon."
"Very good, general. When Commodore Micco awakens, I'll give him the good news. Thigha; over and out."
At that same moment, back at the Spindrift, Ta'enka'erf of Pho'pheah suddenly became rigid of posture. Excusing himself to Betty, he ran outside to find Logunn and the others.
"I just had a premonition in the Force," he began to shout.
"Bing, Bang, and Boom beat you to it," replied Captain Tocneppil (gesturing to the astromechs): "They picked up some kind of scrambled transmission...on an Imp wavelength."
"Storm troopers," said Obmuj: "Got to be!"
"Of that, I have no doubt," declared the Pho'pheahian: "But, as my people like to say; 'forewarned is four-armed.' So, I'll get my wanshen and go do a little scouting. See what kind of numbers we could be looking at!"
Logunn nodded. Not ashamed to acknowledge that, when it came to stealth, the Force-enhanced Matukai could out-class even him. Even so, he felt compelled to add:
"Don't get cocky....and may the Force be with you."
tbc
Chapter 15: THE PLOT THICKENS (IF NOT THE SOUP) by Carycomic
* * * * *
Naturally, the arrival of the SID Tactical Squad had rudely awakened the entire circus. And, just as naturally, they demanded to know what was going on. When none of the police officers would tell why Greta Gault was being questioned, however, the ringmaster had the resident dwarf clown (stage-named Thrombeldinar) do a little surreptitious eavesdropping underneath the harem dancer's trailer.
What the dwarf clown heard was startling to say the least.
"Greta captured one of the real Little People. And, according to him, our planet's been invaded by a whole army of them!"
"Are you sure about that?" asked Lee Noticias
Thrombeldinar crossed his heart with his right index finger while holding his left hand aloft. Adding how the SID were going on the offensive by having their track-and-attack dogs sniff out the invaders' encampment. Whereupon, the lovely widow returned to her own trailer and removed Fitzhugh from his hamster cage. Telling him everything she had just heard.
"Oh, my goodness! I have to warn them, somehow!" the reformed con man exclaimed: "That other Little Person obviously belongs to the same race as the armored malefactors you rescued me from. But, Inspector Kobic will never believe that. He'll shoot my friends first, and simply forego the questions!!"
"Well, I'd gladly warn them for you," declared Lee: "But, even if I were to leave right this second, carrying you for navigation, we'd never get past the main body of the search party unnoticed. Let alone the security cordon at the edge of the fairgrounds. That would take a miracle!"
"Would you settle for some sleight of hand?"
Lee, her daughters, and Fitzhugh all looked in the direction of the new voice.
"Inidu?!" they chorused.
The giant stage magician had once been framed for manslaughter by a jealous and impatient apprentice. But, the Spindrift cast-aways had helped him vindicate himself. Following which, he became a nightclub headliner, once more. Not being as young as he used to be, though, he semi-retired after a year, in order to find himself a new apprentice.
He decided on a child prodigy named Jodar, who had recently been adopted by Inidu's twin brother, Professor Kirmus...along with a female Little Person named Marna.
The latter was a beautiful blonde who had been raised from childhood by a team of giant scientists who had found her parents' derelict spacecraft. While Jodar's gift for biochemistry had helped him develop a size-altering drug that could turn Little People into giants! Now, however, the two of them were part of Inidu's circus act. Marna as the lovely magician's assistant; and Jodar as the eager child "volunteer" from the audience.
Realizing there was no time to voice aloud such a lengthy explanation, Inidu waved aside the inevitable questions in order to reveal what he had in mind.
"If Mr. Fitzhugh will kindly tell her where his friends are encamped, Marna can tell one of her uniquely trained turtledoves where to find it. And, thereby, deliver a written message to them on one of its legs!"
"In the dark? And, at this hour?!" exclaimed Fitzhugh, incredulously: "That bird would have to be part owl."
"That's where the unique training comes in," replied the old stage mage, with a wink and a smile.
tbc
Ch. 16: MORE COMPLICATIONS ENSUE by Carycomic
* * * * *
Inidu proved right.
No sooner had Marna launched one of her turtledoves into the night air than she had assumed a yoga lotus position on the floor of the Noticias family's trailer. Tied to the left leg of that dove was a message--from Fitzhugh to the rest of the Spindrift cast-aways--informing them of Inspector Kobic and his armed search party. And, the highly trained bird was guided to the cast-aways' campsite...
...by Marna's telepathic thoughts.
Needless to say, the first few moments of the dove's landing felt like a sandstorm to the cast-aways and their guests! Once the dust had stopped blowing, however, they were all open-mouthed with astonishment at this normally diurnal passerine just standing there. Its head tilting first left, then right, as it looked down at them.
"Will you look at the size of that thing?" whispered the elephantine Obmuj: "I'm three meters tall. And, yet, I feel so puny!"
It was Barry Lockridge who made the more pertinent observation, however.
"Captain Burton; look! There's a piece of paper tied to its left leg."
"A giant carrier pigeon?" exclaimed Steve: "Just when I think I've seen everything."
"Maybe it's a message from Fitzhugh," Mark Wilson speculated.
"If so," replied his wife, Valerie: "...how do we detach it without being mistaken for birdseed?"
"Obmuj and I will do it," volunteered Logunn.
The Zehethbran looked at his Cragmoloid comrade, who nodded. So, ever so slowly, they advanced on the giant columbiform. With Logunn carefully keeping his blaster aimed right at its head. While Obmuj rubbed his massive hands together, to keep the nervous sweat to a minimum. Yet, the turtledove did nothing but stand there, and stare downward!
A minute later, the giant note was spread upon the ground like a picnic blanket. And the information contained on it brought gasps of alarm from most everyone concerned.
"Is this Kobic the head of local law enforcement for this region?" asked Captain Tocneppil of the Nightshrike.
Dan Ericson (the Spindrift co-pilot) nodded, adding:
"Up to now, he's wanted to capture both us and our ship, as gently as possible. But, if this Empire of yours is here in force...!"
"It's not _our_ Empire," corrected Ta'enka'erf: "But, yes; being caught in the crossfire, between two groups of trigger-happy authoritarians, would not be healthy. Fortunately, this friend of yours warned us in time. And, as we Pho'pheahians like to say; 'forewarned is four-armed.' "
Tocneppil, Logunn, and Obmuj face-palmed themselves in perfect unison.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, since no one was getting a decent night's sleep, anymore, the members of the Llebpmac Circus began to have an early breakfast for themselves. And, needless to say, Inidu, Jodar, and Marna sat at the same table as Lee, Kyle, and Leslie Noticias. The latter pair dipped their right index fingers in their respective glasses of milk. Whereupon, they carefully brought their left hands out of their bathrobe pockets and up above the table top.
Within those left hands were the captive Imperial storm troopers Loogar and Roogar. Each one still bereft of his white battle armor...or any other item of clothing larger than their boxer shorts.
Marna could not help giggling as she watched these two little men suckle on the milky tips of the fingers offered them. Just like newborn babies! At the same time, Lee had just as surreptitiously withdrawn Fitzhugh from _her_ left bathrobe pocket. Only, she was not treating him like a helpless infant. Rather, he looked more like a hungry hamster stuffing his cheek pouches. For, as fast as she gave him a small piece of whole wheat cereal to eat, Fitzhugh would gobble it up!
That was when it happened. An SID man, walking into the circus' mess tent, suddenly started as his walkie-talkie blared to extra-loud life.
"Kobic to Base! Kobic to Base! Lock on to my signal and send reinforcements. Repeat: send reinforcements! The information we received is true. There are hundreds of Little People, now!! And, we're taking heavy fire from them!!!"
tbc
Chapter 17: COUNTER-ATTACK! by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
Sorry for the prolonged absence. I was tied up @ Fanfiction.net.
* * * * *
Commodore Yarc Micco and Captain Nepo Thighah watched with amazement the scene being relayed to them, aboard their respective Star Destroyers, via live holovid transmission.
Using signals from the subcutaneously implanted homing chips that were now mandatory for all Imperials with aviation training, ground-based recondos of the 1209th and 1216th Legions had homed in on the two MIA speeder bike troopers. And those signals had led them within a hundred meters of what looked to be a huge clearing of some kind!
Yet, just as General Prilosec had ordered them to proceed with closer observation, a blinding white light suddenly illuminated their position. Followed by a series of strange-yet-thunderously loud noises made by a pack of animals that resembled giant howlrunners!!
"More Bluecoats!" exclaimed the general: "All units, open fire. Fire at will!"
The SID track-and-attack dogs were notorious for being well-trained for almost any foreseeable contingency. But, a barrage of fiery red laser beams was definitely not in that category! So, with yelps of understandable fright, they turned tail and ran back to the circus encampment. Literally dragging their handlers with them!
As for the armed members of the Tactical Squad, who had been following the dog handlers, they activated their own flashlights (magnetically attached to their shotguns) and began to return fire. But, the storm trooper commanders had learned from that first firefight, back on the dirt road, earlier that day. Consequently, they ordered the AT-AT crews to concentrate their laser cannon-fire on the giants with the portable "cannons."
"Cripple their wrists, if possible," they ordered: "If not? Make 'em bleed to death from between the legs!!"
As a result of this, however, the ranks of the Tactical Squad were split in two. With some of the second section being inadvertently forced in the direction of the Spindrift's camp!
Logunn, who had taken over the scouting from Ta'enka'erf, came running back into the camp with the bad news.
"I estimate they'll be here within five minutes," he concluded: "Maybe less."
Captain Tocneppil looked at Steve Burton.
"Is the Spindrift at least flight-worthy within this planet's atmosphere?"
The slightly younger captain shook his head.
"Then, I would heartily recommend you and your party board the Nightshrike. Immediately! Like it or not, we'll have to take that giant pigeon's owner up on her offer."
"I agree," replied Steve.
Whereupon, he ordered his fellow cast-aways to just gather up whatever necessities they could lay their hands on in four minutes or less. Which, as it turns out, was pitifully little. And, when they were all assembled within the main lounge of the YT-1000, Tocneppil pressed the cockpit button that drew in the gang plank and closed the bottom hatch.
"Strap in, everybody!" the old smuggler yelled over the freighter's PA system: "This is going to be a little bumpy."
Being a Cragmoloid, of course, Obmuj could not strap in! So, as he had when the Nightshrike first left Nar Shadda, he assumed the meditative fetal position that Ta'enka'erf had shown him. Letting all useless worries flow out of him like ribbons of white light destined for absorption by a black hole. In the meantime, Tocneppil was trying to keep an eye on the giant pigeon. Or, perhaps more accurately, he tried to follow its flight path, as closely as he could, without being forced downward by the turbulence being generated by the rhythmic flapping of its wings!
"A feat that even that Corellian show-off, Han Solo, might find difficult to perform," the Esselean-born human muttered to himself.
Ten minutes later, he sighted the lights of the Llebpmac Circus. While at roughly that same moment, aboard his personal flagship, Commodore Micco looked at Captain Thighah's hologram. A grimly determined look upon his face.
"Launch all TIE fighters. Wherever those giants are based? I want it leveled to ashes. No survivors!"
tbc
End Notes:
Hopefully, the next chapter will be posted in one-eighth the time it took this one. ;-)
Chapter 18: BUBBLES OF TROUBLE by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
THE LLEBPMAC CIRCUS
(FIVE MINUTES EARLIER)
* * * * *
Mr. and Mrs. Charles Whalen had been unique for their time. A husband-and-wife team of civilian test pilots, they had departed Cape Kennedy, Florida, on March 6, 1968, bound for Paris, France. Their objective: to test the flight-worthiness of a "Spindrift" prototype that had been code-named "Jupiter I." Their sole passenger: their daughter and only child, Marna.
Unfortunately, the Jupiter I disappeared--along with all hands--while passing over the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.
How she survived the subsequent crash of the sub-orbital transport, on this planet of gigantic humans, Marna still did not know. But, soon after reaching adolescence, among the giant scientists raising her, she developed--and visibly demonstrated--a psionic rapport with all the four-footed animals kept in the laboratory with her! So, the scientists naturally concluded that such a gift might have protected her from the local wildlife (especially insectivorous birds) _after_ the crash.
Yet, now, it was birds that were about to save the LLebpmac Circus from otherwise certain destruction.
For, just as she finished receiving a vision of the Corellian-built Nightshrike getting nearer to the circus grounds, she suddenly had another vision. This one composed of images of extra-terrestrial spacecraft, with quadrilateral wings, emerging from the bellies of much-larger spacecraft presently orbiting this planet. And, with the smaller craft decimating the circus and everyone in it!
So, immediately after snapping out of her precognitive state, she demanded of Loo Gar and Roo Gar what those fighter craft were. The two captive storm troopers were initially reluctant to divulge that information. But, Kyle and Leslie Noticias quickly fixed that by tickling their respective new pets...
...between their legs.
"A-ha-ha! NO! PLEASE! STOP!" they finally chorused.
"Then, answer her," demanded Kyle.
"Now!" added her younger sister.
"TIE fighters," replied Roo Gar (gasping for air): "Short...for Twin...Ion...Engines."
"And, with a lot...of fire power...to boot," added Loo Gar, in between his own inhalations.
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Fitzhugh: Between them and those ground forces the SID are retreating from, we'll all be killed!!"
"Not if I can help it," growled Marna.
Whereupon, she swiftly ran back to her trailer-wagon and rummaged through her foot locker for one of the few things she had kept from her foster childhood among the giant scientists. And which had subsequently been enlarged along with her!
A giant, white plastic pipe.
Grabbing it up with her left hand, she ran back to the circus' mess tent, where she then snatched up an empty coffee cup with her right hand. Subsequently filling the latter with the delicious soup the Noticias family had so fervently sang the praises of, to Fitzhugh, earlier that afternoon.
Running back outside, to the circus midway, Marna looked up toward the night sky. She then dipped the white plastic pipe into the cup of soup...and subsequently blew a stream of greenish-brown bubbles up into the northwestern part of it.
It was these giant "soup" bubbles that the first wave of TIE fighters collied with. Their intake ports becoming immediately clogged, with chunks of giant vegetables and noodles, as a result!
"Mayday! Mayday!" screamed the leader of Alpha Wave: "We're going down. Repeat; we're going down! Some kind of liquid anti-spacecraft projectiles. Beta and Gamma Waves; split up. Repeat; split up! Outflank these mother-frakkin..."
Only static was heard, thereafter.
tbc
Chapter 19: "TIE" SCORE? by Carycomic
* * * * *
As the giant turtledove came in for a landing near her dovecote, the YT-1000 Nightshrike following her went slightly farther. Captain Tocneppil now putting the Corellian-built freighter down atop the engine hood of Marna Whalen's camper.
"I've got a real bad feeling about this," muttered Logunn (for what felt like the one hundredth time).
"And I told you not to worry," replied Ta'enka'erf: "I sense no hostility in that giant bird's owner."
"From your mouth to the Force's ear," muttered the Zehethbran (fingering his blaster).
Being the biggest among everyone else aboard, Obmuj the Cragmoloid was the first to descend the loading ramp as soon as it had finished lowering itself to the ground. He took a few seconds to look around. Then, he turned to look up the ramp and trumpeted an "all-clear" signal. Yet, as soon as he had finished doing that, he turned back around...
...and beheld Marna smiling down at him in puzzled bemusement.
"Shades of Shoon*!" he exclaimed: "Now, I really _do_ feel puny."
The moment the refugees from the Spindrift had gathered around him, however, some of his apprehension left him after seeing how they grinned upward at the blonde giantess in recognition.
Mark Wilson, especially.
"Marna?! How in the world....?"
"No time to explain," she replied: "Right now, this circus is in danger of being reduced to ashes by something called TIE fighters! Does that sound familiar to any of you?"
"Oh, frak!" swore Logunn: "I knew it was too good to be true."
Ta'enka'erf ignored him as he yelled upward: "Miss! If you're the one whose been telepathing me through the Force, for the last ten minutes, you have to get your people out of here. Now! As physically powerful as you might be, compared to us, there's no way you can withstand an air-to-ground turbo-laser barrage."
As if on cue, Beta and Gamma Waves began to descend on their initial strafing runs. Their targets of first priority: the armed policemen of the SID. Whereupon, Inspector Kobic ordered his men to return fire, skyward, as best they could. But, the Pho Ph'eahian matukai had been right in what he had told Marna. As powerful as the SID's giant twelve-gauge shotguns might be in contrast to, say, Logunn's blaster? There was no way they would be able to blow every TIE fighter out of the sky before all the police officers were dead.
And, then, it would be the innocent by-standers' turn.
Logunn and Ta'enka'erf looked at each other before looking at their captain.
"Hey, Tocneppil!" exclaimed the former: "Feel like losing another ship?"
The silver-haired-and-mustachioed human looked from one to the other of them...before a maniacal grin appeared on his face.
"You two man the quad guns. I'll drive."
"Hey! Wait a minute!" demanded the Cragmoloid (using his bulk to block their way): "Are you guys crazy? You cant' down all those TIE fighters single-handedly."
"Maybe not," said Tocneppil: "But, we can buy you guys enough time to get out of here with these giant civilians.
Whereupon, Ta'enka'erf looked up at Marna and asked her to "look after the big lug" (referring to the pachydermoid). She frowned a little bit before nodding. After which, she grabbed him and picked him up like he was nothing more than a stuffed toy bear from the shooting gallery!
Allowing the other three to run aboard the Nightshrike...and take off.
tbc
End Notes:
* Shoon is a planet in the Senex/Juvex Sectors, of the GFFA, that was once the homeworld of a mysterious (but now-extinct) race of giant beings.
Ch. 20: SOMETIMES, IT TAKES A WOMAN'S TOUCH by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
Dedicated to the late, great Yvonne Craig.
* * * * *
The Nightshrike had barely risen two hundred feet above the heads of the embattled giants when, suddenly, everything went quiet. Too quiet! Even the custom-modified engines of the venerable old YT-1000 were no longer sending their tell-tale vibrations to the soles of her captain's feet.
So, he got on the intercom.
"Logunn! Ta'enka'erf! Sit-rep; now!"
No response. So, he repeated his demand.
"Logunn! Ta'enka'erf! Report!!"
Still nothing. So, he looked outside the small transparisteel dome that normally gave him an unfettered view of outer space when he was in the pilot's seat. And, in this instance, he saw all the Imperial TIE fighters...
...frozen in mid-air. Even their laser blasts and proton torpedo launches!
That was when he knew for sure.
"Berna?"
"Thorg Tocneppil! What in the Name of the Force do you think you are doing?!"
She had caught up with him, at last.
The good captain unbuckled his seat belt and climbed down from the topside cockpit. There, at the foot of the ladder, he found her waiting for him. Hands scoldingly placed on her hips.
"Well?" she exclaimed: "I'm waiting!"
He did not answer her, though. Not right away. He wanted to drink in her appearance, first. It had been forty years since they had last been to this planet. From their point of view, anyway. From the view point of the humans called Dan and Steve, it would only seem like twelve months!!
Although, only if the latter were _allowed_ to remember.
The Council of Voyagers had not taken it kindly when Thorg and Berna had handed in their final report on that particular misadventure. Professor Garth (the president of the council), especially, had made it quite clear that it should never have been necessary for the time-traveling duo to play cat-and-mouse with the two Earth men, at all!
"Perhaps," he had added (with deliberate sarcasm): "...we should have sent a more _experienced_ pair of Voyagers to make sure Olds and Fielder had not irreparably damaged that time-line. In any case; the two of you are on forty years probation. Effective immediately! The terms of that probation to include..."
"...each of you working with different partners."
Consequently, a mentally-reprogrammed Berna was sent to a certain American city, on a certain parallel-Earth, where the local crime rate was so bad, it had inspired a certain pair of wealthy individuals to combat it as costumed vigilantes! With Berna assisting them in the belief that she was the local police commissioner's daughter.
Thorg, on the other hand, was sent to a certain galaxy far, far away. There, he became a professional smuggler. And, not just any smuggler. But, one who had the dubious distinction of being the most accident-prone with spaceships! Of course, he, too, had been mind-wiped, so he could be implanted with an elaborate set of false memories. Yet, those memories had eventually been supplanted by the real ones after a close shave, the year before, involving a Dathomirian Night Sister working for a band of Sanyassan space pirates.
And, one of the first things Thorg had recalled was that the forty-year probation had long since ended.
By rights, he should have immediately reported to the prearranged extraction site on the planet Alderaan. Grand Moff Tarkin, however, had made that impossible. So, Thorg resumed his smuggling activities. Nor did he feel any regrets about doing so. For he had to admit to himself that he had grown to like the adrenaline rush of matching wits with the authorities of the Galactic Empire!
Which, in turn, is why he had never gone anywhere near the secondary extraction site prearranged by the Council of Voyagers; the planet Esseles. The so-called "homeworld" of his alter-ego! Still, he had known in his heart that it was only a matter of time before Berna would track him down and confront him.
And, she had proven him right.
"I know you're reluctant to go back to our real line of work," she now remarked: "But, isn't altruistic suicide carrying things just a tad too far?"
tbc
Ch. 21: MANDATORY PLOT TWIST by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
SOMEWHERE IN THE 55TH CENTURY
* * * * *
Before Thorg could give any semblance of reply, he suddenly had a nanosecond of vertigo. Following which, he noticed that he and Berna were no longer aboard the Nightshrike!
"That's a very good question," interjected a deeper and more mature-sounding voice behind them: "I should like to hear its answer, myself!"
The two suspended Voyagers turned around and beheld Professor Garth (President of the Voyagers' Council) standing behind them. His hair just as silvery-gray, and his toga-like uniform just as immaculate, as they remembered.
"Hello, professor," Thorg responded: "It's been a long time!"
"Forty years, from your viewpoint," the somewhat older man agreed: "You do recall why I sentenced you and Berna to such a lengthy period of probation. Do you not?"
Thorg reluctantly nodded: "Youthful over-exuberance, you called it."
"Exactly! A more mature approach to getting your stolen Omni back from those two Earthmen would have been to show them how certain events would have unfolded if they had succeeded in changing their own personal histories."
A holographic tableau suddenly materialized to Professor Garth's left. A tableau showing a pair of uniformed guards strapping a third man, in striped cover-alls, to a grim-looking metal chair.
"The wrongful electrocution of a socioeconomic derelict for a murder he never committed."
The tableau now changed to a married coupled crying in each other's arms.
"The needless drowning deaths of two children trapped in an abandoned well."
This was followed by a third tableau depicting ruins of once-great buildings extending all the way to the far horizon.
"And the devastation of an entire city by political extremists! Yet, none of these things crossed your minds because of that aforementioned over-exuberance. A character flaw that I had hoped would be permanently purged from your systems by the time I laid eyes on you two, again. Alas! Only Berna seems not to have dashed that hope. But, you, Thorg...?"
The latter did not wait for the former to continue.
"With all due respect, Professor Garth? I know that Voyagers are only supposed to observe, preserve, and correct. There are certain times and situations, however, when more direct intervention is required! And this is one of those times. The giant inhabitants of that planet are in danger of being destroyed by a space station as large as a moon!! And, I cannot--in good conscience--allow that to happen."
"So what did you intend to do?" demanded Garth: "Single-handedly fight your way through all those enemy spacecraft to notify the nearest local Resistance..."
"Rebel Alliance," Thorg instinctively corrected him.
"...Rebel Alliance cell?"
Thorg shrugged and nodded. Prompting Garth's scowl to deepen.
"Then, there's only one more thing I can say. You're going to need a little more help than a bipedal wolverine and a four-armed, blue-furred bat!"
Berna and her lover looked at the elder Voyager in open-mouthed astonishment as his scowl suddenly converted itself into a shamelessly child-like grin.
"Oh, dear me! Did I neglect to mention that I'm also an operative of the Celestial Intervention Agency?"
tbc
Chapter 22. "LOOK! UP IN THE SKY!!" by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
SOMEWHERE OTHER THAN G.F.F.A.
* * * * *
For a microsecond, Marna did not notice it, as her eyes were understandably closed. Then, she realized...it was much too quiet. So, she re-opened her eyes. And she felt them bulge, to their widest possible diameter, in astonishment.
The TIE fighters that had been about to strafe her and the others were frozen in mid-air! Along with their turbo-laser blasts!!
The first thought that occurred to her was that this must be some kind of miracle. Only, she must have muttered it half-aloud to herself. Because, suddenly, a male voice to her right replied:
"No, not a miracle. Just an interval of chronostasis that must soon end. Lest we jeopardize this whole space/time continuum!"
Marna was naturally startled at seeing Thorg Tocneppil standing next to her. And, even more astounding, suddenly being the same height as her!
"How...?"
"No time to fully explain," he remarked, cutting her off: "Suffice it to say that you're the only one who can end this travesty before it becomes a tragedy!"
"Me?!" she exclaimed.
Thorg nodded: "I now know that the telepathic bond you have with your doves is the result of an energy field known as 'the Force.' With years of proper training, under an accomplished adept, you would be able to work wonders. But, the people around you don't have years! That's why you're going to have to combine your rudimentary Force ability with the energies of this device."
He showed her something that resembled an overgrown pocket watch before continuing.
"It's called an Omni-Space/Time Manipulator ('Omni' for short). And, with it, one cannot only travel through time. But, also, alter the amount of physical space taken up by people and things. For instance?"
Thorg aimed the Omni at a nearby SID man. The time-frozen law enforcer subsequently being shrunken to the size of her friend Mark!
"Here's one for you," Thorg continued, handing her a dupicate of his own Omni: "Use it, wisely...but quickly."
With that, he disappeared.
Meanwhile, aboard his orbiting Imperial Star Destroyer, Commodore Yarc Micco was becoming impatient with the loss of contact with the TIE fighters.
"Micco to bridge! Progress report."
"I'm sorry, Commodore. But, there's still no...wait! We just reacquired sensor lock on Beta and Gamma Waves. Communications, too! There's something strange, though. All the pilots seem to be shouting at once. Something about...a mega-giantess?"
Naturally, neither the communications officer nor the commodore, himself, had any idea what the TIE pilots could be talking about. The latter, however, were telling the truth as they now saw it. Because, for one moment, the first two squadrons of Beta Wave had a clear field of fire at the giants in front of them. Yet, the next moment?
They were suddenly confronted by a pair of shapely legs the size of deluxe hotels on Coruscant!!!
It was Marna. She had done as Thorg had directed her. Holding the Omni close to her heart while concentrating with a clear head and closed eyes. The next thing she knew, she was wearing her stage costume! A sleeveless blue leotard with sequins, off-set by a blue-feathered tiara; a silver-painted pair of high heels; a pair of white fingerless, elbow-length gloves; and a white mesh cape.
Even more amazing than that, though, was the fact that she was now a hundred times taller than her fellow giants! Making her appear, to them, like some goddess out of an ancient legend.
Marna, smiling at the open-mouthed astonishment on their faces, suddenly wondered if she could do the same thing to her birds.
"Sorry to wake you up, my pretties. But, I have some nasty little bugs flying around the circus. Bugs that you might find very crunchy to eat!"
Seconds later, the rest of her turtledoves materialized in mid-air, right in the midst of the TIE fighters. The shocked pilots of which suddenly started radioing for help.
Reporting how half their comrades had already been devoured, on the fly, by giant white avians.
tbc
End Notes:
I was originally going to use the monster-bird from that venerably cheesy old s-f flick "The Giant Claw" to save the day. Passing it off as a pseudo-avian mutation of a Duinuoguin Star Dragon from the SWL universe. But, then, I changed my mind. Remembering, instead, the very first gts-fantasy I ever had.
MIss Vera, a "scantily-clad" turtledove trainer on Bert Parks old "Circus!" series, from the early Seventies, had--at one point during the act--coaxed some of her birds across a "high" wire. Watching that, I suddenly pictured myself dressed in Fitzhugh's clown outfit (from the LOTG episode "The Marionettes") doing the same thing!
And a new macrophiliac was born. :-)
Ch. 23: REDUCING THE OPPOSITION by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
ABOARD "THE PRIDE OF CORUSCANT"
* * * * *
"Bridge to Beta Leader," Commodore Yarc Micco shouted into his commlink: "Bridge to Beta Leader! Do you read? Over. Bridge to Gamma Leader. Bridge to Gamma Leader! Respond at once. Over!"
But, all he got was dead air. So, he barked his next order at the radioman.
"Sparks? Activate holovid transceiver. Get me THe HERO OF CARTAO!"
A minute later, the transparent, life-size image of Captain Nepo Thigha was standing before him.
"Nepo! Any word from your TIE pilots?"
His ex-military academy roommate shook his head.
"Either the Rebel Alliance has a base down there with a more powerful comm jammer than ours. Or, Beta and Gamma Waves have been wiped out of the sky...to the last man."
"Sithspawn!" swore the commodore, at the top of his lungs.
"Really, sir!" exclaimed a new voice: "Such language."
Micco spun about and felt his lower jaw at least a centimeter in astonishment. A facial expression duplicated by every other officer and enlisted man on the Star Destroyer's bridge.
"Who in the name of the Emperor are you?" he demanded of the beautiful (if scantily clad) blonde before his very eyes.
"You may call me...Princess Marna. And I hereby demand your unconditional surrender, Commodore. Do so and I won't have to use this..."
She paused just long enough to show him a device that looked like an overgrown chronometer (minus wrist band).
"...to strip you and your men of your dignity. Among other things!"
For a minute, no one said a word. Then, Micco began doing something most of his ship's crew privately thought him incapable of doing.
He began to laugh!
The laughter proved contagious. Everyone on the bridge--from Micco's adjutant to the lowliest yeoman--were laughing at the top of their lungs over the threat just issued by this self-proclaimed "princess."
"You must be crazy!" Micco finally exclaimed (after becoming too tired to laugh anymore): "Admittedly, good-looking. Yet, crazy, just the same. Why, I could have the master-at-arms gun you down where you stand, just for daring to threaten an officer of the Imperial Star Fleet!"
Marna merely shrugged.
"On your own little head be it."
Whereupon, she closed her eyes and pressed some kind of colorfully lit button on the device.
"Bomb!!!" Micco yelled out, as he (along with everyone else) quite literally hit the deck.
Yet, nothing happened.
Micco slowly lifted his hands off the back of his neck. He then looked up and around. Everything appeared intact! No deafening blast of wind signifying a hull breach draining off vital oxygen. So, he slowly regained his feet.
He then looked around for the master-at-arms, so he could order the immediate arrest of that crazy woman. In doing so, however, he saw something that made the words evaporate in his throat.
He saw silver-painted high heels the size of a Scout-AT.
And, as he angled his head backward, he saw that the shoes were occupied by feet attached to very shapely legs. Legs which, in turn, gave way to a glittery blue garment that showed off a certain curvaceous figure in the most enchanting way imaginable. And, looking down from high atop that figure?
A smiling face wearing a blue-feathered tiara and an ear-to-ear grin.
"Shades of Shoon!" he half-whispered aloud.
To be concluded.
Ch. 24---CONCLUSION by Carycomic
Author's Notes:
THE LLEBPMAC CIRCUS
* * * * *
Inspector Kobic was beside himself with all the surviving Little People his men were managing to find among the wreckage of the downed TIE fighters.
"Can you imagine the strength of the metal these tiny ships are made of?" he joyously exclaimed to one such SID officer: "Reverse-engineering them is bound to advance our own space program, immeasurably!"
"But, sir!" replied the officer: "Our own scientists are merely forensic specialists! We'd need to recruit an outside expert on rocketry, at the very least, for a project of this magnitude."
Kobic admitted this was true.
"However," he added: "...the late Professor Franzen had a research assistant, named Altha, who could provide some much-needed insight in that regard. I'll have some plainclothes men go to her current residence and bring her to Headquarters, as soon as possible."
It was at this moment that Marna approached the pair, still clad in her "Miss Vera" costume.
"Forgive me if I'm intruding on an official conversation, Inspector. I was wondering, though, if our circus might keep some of these Little People as 'performing animals.' Most of our regular menagerie understandably panicked, during this bizarre air raid, and escaped into the nearby forest. Since our troupe is due to pull out, the day after tomorrow, we've no time to hunt them all down., right away. So, in the interim. we'll need something...exotic...to draw in the crowds at our next venue. And..."
"Yes-yes-yes!" Kobic replied, impatiently: "I think we can come to some sort of accommodation, given your co-operation in letting us use your facility as a base of operations."
The cast-aways of the Spindrift listened to this conversation from the bathrobe pockets of Lee, Kyle, and Leslie Noticias (who were standing nearby).
"Hmph!" snorted Fitzhugh, in derision: "I have yet to read a dictionary where 'co-operation' is defined as 'obedience obtained at gunpoint!' "
Lee chuckled and stroked his head with her right index finger.
"Welcome to our world, Alexander. Believe me! We of the circus don't like the SID anymore than you do. But, we are more used to their...discriminatory condescension."
It was 7:00 A.M. by the time the SID had finally finished picking up both TIE fighter wreckage and the surviving pilots thereof. The latter were put in hamster cages and carpooled to the animal hospital used for the yearly physicals of the track-and-attack dogs. There, they would remain for the next twelve months while giant biologists poked and prodded at them. Comparing the results of those examinations with what they deduced from autopsying the TIE pilots who had been less fortunate in their crash landings.
What Inspector Kobic did not realize, however (and what Marna conveniently "forgot" to tell him), is that not all his prisoners were fighter pilots. A good many of them were the officers and crewmen from the Victory-class Star Destroyers currently orbiting this planet! Both of which,,,
...were now emptier than the promises of a re-elected politician.
As to the crew of the YT-1000 freighter known as "The Nightshrike?" Logunn and Ta'enka'erf naturally had a lot of questions for Thorg Tocneppil. Because, from their point of view, one second, he had been about to fly them into the middle of a firestorm of turbo-laser beams. And, the next second, he was landing the ship back at the circus. With a mystery woman named Berna opening the debarkation hatch to the cargo hold!
By the time she and Thorg had finished explaining, it was time for lunch. Whereupon, the Noticias family (who had once again been rehearsing their trapeze act) came to the mess tent wearing their eye-catching--and flatteringly form-fitting--leotards.
"Ugh!" protested Fitzhugh: "Soup, again?!"
Everybody laughed; the giantess and her two daughters doing so, especially loudly.
"Don't worry, Alexander. This time, it's chicken noodle soup. Good for what ails you!"
"I'd like to test that theory," grumbled Obmuj: "By beating these three to such a pulp, it'd be the only thing they could eat for six standard weeks!"
"Upset much?" inquired Logunn, trying unsuccessfully to sound puzzled.
The Cragmoloid glared angrily at the Zehethbran.
"What kind of friend would desert me on a world full of giant primitive humans, and force me to take care of his stinking dinko into the bargain? You wouldn't treat me like that if I were a Wookiee or a Yuzzem or some other species that practices life-debtedness!"
"You're right," admitted Logunn: "And I apologize. But, I'll make it up to you out of my share. I promise!"
All four of Ta'enka'erf's arms unfolded when his bat-like ears heard that.
"Share??? Share of what? What are you talking about?"
"Well, it's obviously too late to bring Bogo the Hutt his hanadak," said Logunn: "So, we'll have to reimburse him the credits he advanced us out of our own pockets. And, what better way to get those credits than to do a little info peddling? I know a certain Bothan spymaster who will pay us a small fortune for what we were told about the Empire's new Death Star! And, I've no doubt he'll double that fortune when he re-sells it to the Rebel Alliance."
"That's assuming we can make it back through the wormhole that first brought us here," countered the Pho ph'eahian.
"Oh, don't worry about that," replied Berna: "Thorg and I can more than compensate for that with our two Omnis."
'In that case," said Steve Burton: "...is there any chance of giving us a ride back to Earth? Because Dan, Mark, and I rode back to our ship's campsite courtesy of some of Marna's doves. And the Spindrift was totaled in the running firefight the SID had with those Imperial storm troopers! Our sleeping quarters; our food caches; everything's gone. Flattened beyond recognition!"
Berna looked at her husband, who nodded.
"It would be our pleasure," she said.
Thus did the cast-aways of the Spindrift finally return to their homeworld almost four years after they had left it. And the answers they gave to NASA, the FAA, and other relevant authorities were naturally met with some skepticism, at first. Yet, there was no disputing the fact that one of the Spindrifters was conspicuously absent.
"I'm not going with you," Fitzhugh had shockingly announced: "I'm staying here. Back home, I'm still wanted for embezzlement! Remember? And, as a member of this circus, at least I'll eat right. Isn't that true, my dear?"
He smiled up at Lee, whose matching smile was naturally twice as big.
Steve (who had seen the same type of smiles on Dan, Betty, Mark, and Valerie when he had first joined them in marriage) smiled to himself at the unspoken real reason for Fitzhugh's so suddenly being cured of his homesickness.
"I understand. And I wish you the best of luck."
"What about the captains of the two spaceships that chased you guys here?" asked Barry: "Won't their own commanding officers miss them and trace them, to this planet, through that wormhole?"
Berna had shaken her head.
"By now, their Star Destroyers have been written off as being sucked into the black hole, called Endor's Gate, with all hands. Between that, and Emperor Palpatine's notorious impatience, I don't think any manpower will be spared for what will no doubt be assumed to be a fruitless search."
"Speaking of fruit," said Marna: "Does Cookie have any fried banana chips for my new pet monkeys?"
She looked down at the two little men dressed in copies of the green-and-gold clown outfit Fitzhugh had once worn while posing as a "marionette." Unfortunately, for Yarc Micco and Nepo Thigah, the smiles on their white made-up faces had been painted on with blue adhesive skin gel!
Ergo; the protests that came out of their muffled mouths, as they futilely struggled against the leashed collars that pinned their arms to their respective sides, sounded a lot like:
"MMPH! MMPH!! MMPH-MMPH-MMPH!!!"
The End
EPILOGUE
"Admit it," said the Fourth Doctor: "The wormhole that brought the Spindrift to that planet, in the first place, was created by you two. As a way to keep the Forest Moon from being ecologically devastated by the explosion of the second Death Star!"
Thorg and Berna Tocneppil looked at each other before mischievously grinning and chorusing: "We'll never tell!"
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.