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Chapter 1: Thursday, June 26th, 3321

Story Notes:


I started this story in 1998, and have worked on it off and on for many years. I've written and finished many giantess and shrunken man stories, and I decided to finally finish this story. There will be non-fatal vore, but it will happen in later chapters. I plan on making it into a graphic novel, as I am also an artist.

I recently revised this chapter and got rid of references to hyperspace and changed the reason they go back in time to the continuators malfunctioning.

I had some help from Gator, the author of the Empire series, he also came up with Portasizers. He re-wrote part of the first chapter, and his version has a thousand percent more literary value than my original version!


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Miniaturized military crew:

Captain Lobo Vargas

Commander Carlos Cruz

Sergeant Desiderio Diego

Corporal Luis Lopez

Corporal Huan Hangchow

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Space pirates:

Scrapper

Gator

Slackjaw
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Normal-sized 21st century characters:

Megan Weiss, 13 years old

Margaret Weiss, Megan’s 35-year-old mother

Shelly Krieger, Megan’s 13-year-old best friend

Christopher Krieger, Shelly’s 16-year-old brother

Leila Landa, 13-year-old school-mate of Megan and Shelly
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Chapter 1: Thursday, June 26, 3321, the Kuiper Belt

A mass as dark as obsidian hid among the huge methane, ammonia and water ice chunks deep past the orbit of Neptune in the Sol system.

Inside the grim ship, three figures were perched above various consoles tentatively watching and waiting. The dull green glow of a display playing across the eyes of man at the scanning console as he watched the potentially lucrative and life changing readout of the far range sensors.

His dry voice finally spoke, "There they are... We found them," Slackjaw reported to his brothers who looked at each other, wringing their hands, smiles grew across their eager unshaved faces. Scrapper grinned as Gator cracked his knuckles as if about to pick a rather tricky lock.

All three huddled around the scanning screen like buzzards watching a unicorn about to perish. Practically salivating. Sweat dripped from Scrapper's brow due to the ship being powered down and the stuffy stale air. They were forced to hide their power signature from the other pirates in the Kuiper Belt who were most definitely ALSO trying to hunt this once in a lifetime opportunity.

"There... That's it..." Slackjaw pointed to the screen reporting back an encrypted transponder radio code. The "special" signal. The kind only the military uses for special occasions. The kind they ESPECIALLY use when something very secret is happening. The three men didn’t need to decrypt the code. Its very presence means THIS was what they had been hunting for these weeks and months!

Their faces lit with green as their pupils dilated, imagining the riches they will receive from such a bounty. But another blip appeared right at the opposite edge of their scan range.

"What's that one?" Scrapper asked. 

Slackjaw noticed too, and started the scanning all over again on the main screen. The computer detected every spectrum and analyzed them. The system started displaying some data using their HIGHLY illegal program they had "acquired" through less than reputable means.

"Alpha Centauri merchantmen, ore convoy. Basic security detail, it's... heading to Mars," Slackjaw reported to his brothers who continue to try to peer out the main screen for any sign of trouble. Just knowing one wrong move could mean ALL this will have been for nothing. These brothers were the best because they remained sharp at all times. Attention to detail. Hunting with every advantage.

But after a moment, something clicked with Scrapper and he thought aloud. "Wait a minute... Why would a freighter haul ore from outside the system? It's MUCH cheaper to refine, then deep space deliver..." he says scratching his head.

All three brothers then looked at each other. Knowing Scrapper was 100% right. "That's the REAL secret delivery!" 

“Bring us in closer to that freighter,” said Scrapper, “and use surveillance tech to listen in on what the crew is talking about!”

Gator hurried to his console to begin the process of firing up the ion propulsion drive while Slackjaw monitored what was being spoken within the freighter…

Meanwhile, in the cockpit of the space freighter, Captain Lobo Vargas sat in the command chair, while Commander Carlos Cruz piloted the ship. Sergeant Diego sat twiddling his thumbs as he supervised Corporal Hangchow, who was repairing a conduit in one of the walls of the large cockpit. Corporal Luis Lopez sat at the scanner console.

“Captain Vargas,” Corporal Lopez asked, “what is it we’re hauling in this old rust bucket, anyway?”

“Space Command didn’t specifically tell me to keep it a secret from you guys, so I guess I can tell you. We’re hauling a new type of neutrino dissimilator cannon that was developed on a space station in the Alpha Centauri system. It’s supposed to be able to slice through a quantum force field using a new technology. Size inhibitors will be ineffective against this new type of shrink ray!”

“You guys should be quiet about that,” said Hangchow. “The walls have ears.”

“Oh, nobody’s going to pay attention to us, Hangchow!” said Sergeant Diego. “As far as the rest of the solar system is concerned, we’re just another freighter hauling worthless ore to a processing station. Any space pirate in his right mind is guaranteed to ignore us!”

Corporal Lopez looked up from his scanner console. “Hangchow’s right, sir! Pirates could pick up the conversation without our equipment detecting it!”

“Commander Cruz laughed and said, “You guys are getting worked up about nothing!”

Scrapper’s pirate ship closed in on the freighter, but Captain Vargas and his crew didn’t detect it because of the sophisticated cloaking device. Scrapper, sitting in the command chair, waited for an update from Slackjaw.

“We’re within radio and energy weapons range, Scrapper! But we’re too far to engage the freighter with our missile weapons system.”

“Slackjaw,” said Scrapper, “open an audio-visual channel to the captain of that vessel!”

In the cockpit of the freighter, Commander Cruz picked up the signal from Scrapper’s ship.

“Captain, we’re being hailed!”

Put it on the forward view-screen,” Captain Vargas ordered. “I didn’t expect any radio contact with Space Command this early in our mission!”

“The transmission isn’t from Space Command, sir,” said Corporal Lopez. “It’s coming from a nearby cloaked vessel, but I can’t pinpoint its location!”

“Put it on the main screen!” Vargas ordered.

Just then, an image of Scrapper, Slackjaw, and Gator filled the main forward view-screen. Captain Vargas stood up in utter amazement and whispered, “Scrapper?”

“Lobo Vargas?” said Scrapper. “By the moons of Neptune! I didn’t expect you to be in command of this vessel. It’s because of you that I was kicked out of space command and sent to that prison colony on Triton. Now I have two reasons to kill you!”

“There’s nothing of value on this freighter-” said Vargas, but he was cut off by Scrapper.

“You can drop the cover story, Vargas! I’ve got your entire conversation with your junior crew members describing the weapon prototype in vivid detail. Would you like me to play back the recording?”

“Corporal,” said Captain Vargas, “close channel, shields up!”

Corporal Lopez did as Captain Vargas ordered, and the cockpit of Scrapper’s ship disappeared from the main forward view-screen.

Scrapper's ship fired energy weapons.

"Captain, our freighter has sustained damage!" said Commander Cruz. “Another hit like that, and we're through!"

“Commander, set a course through a separate space-time continuum, then use the continuators to shift back and forth between that reality and realities chosen at random, it’ll be harder for Scrapper to track us!”

“Yes sir! It should take about thirty seconds!”

“We don’t have thirty seconds, commander! Activate the continuators now, that’s an order!”

Back on Scrapper’s ship, Slackjaw informed Scrapper that they were in missile firing range of the freighter.

“Hit them with about three warheads, that ought to wake them up!”

Slackjaw fired the warheads, and the freighter was rocked with explosions. The shields held up until the last warhead hit. The shields were breached just before the freighter entered another reality.

“We scored a direct hit with that last warhead,” said Slackjaw. “They must’ve shifted into another continuum. We have no way of knowing where they went, so there’s no way to track them. Either way, we caused a lot of damage!”

“Slackjaw, I want you to scan every continuum you can for traces of their ship. I won’t be satisfied until Vargas is dead!”

“That might take time,” said Slackjaw, “but we should be able to track them down eventually. So far, I'm not picking up anything in any of the continuums used by space command.”

“Time,” Scrapper muttered. “That’s the ticket! Scan temporal space, Slackjaw!”

Meanwhile, on the space freighter, Commander Cruz was frantic. “Captain, five of our six continuators and our main fusion reactor have been damaged, we’re losing power fast, and we’re trapped in temporal space. We can’t break free!”

“What exactly is the problem?” Captain Vargas asked.

“Continuators make a breach in other continuums, that’s what allows us to travel through temporal space or other continuums. With one left functioning, we won’t be able to return to normal space, and with our reactor leak, we are running out of options!”

“Does anyone have a solution?” Captain Vargas asked.

“I’ve got one option,” said Diego, “but it depends on whether or not we can get the dissimilator cannon online and functional.”

“I have the access codes to get it working,” Vargas replied. “Why? What’s your plan?”

“I say we jettison the main reactor, hold it in place with a tractor beam, and with a second tractor beam, we jettison the dissimilator cannon, and use it to shrink the ship with us on board. If we use the deflector shields to contain the neutrino dissimilator cannon, it should shrink along with us. With our decreased mass, the larger reactor should have enough power to return us to normal space.”

“Has anything like this been tried in a situation like this before?” Captain Vargas asked.

“Anyone who has become trapped in temporal space like this has never made it out alive. If this plan works, once we return to normal space, we can send a radio signal to an outpost in a system the same number of light years away from Earth as the distance back through time that we’ve traveled. If our signal is received, help should arrive at the exact time we transmit it. This solution seems like the only way!”

“You’re on!” said Captain Vargas. “Let’s do it!”

After the main reactor was jettisoned and held in place by a tractor beam, the cargo bay was opened, and the neutrino dissimilator cannon was jettisoned. A second tractor beam was used to hold it in place. Captain Vargas gave the command codes to Corporal Lopez to activate the dissimilator cannon, then he gave the order to activate it. The entire freighter along with the neutrino dissimilator cannon had decreased in size, weight, volume, and mass instantly. The fusion reactor remained at normal size.

“We’re about nine-sixteenths of an inch tall, captain!” said Corporal Lopez.

“Pull the neutrino dissimilator cannon back into the cargo bay, and channel power from the reactor to return us to normal space, Commander Cruz!”

The miniaturized freighter and the normal sized fusion reactor were pulled back to normal space. Soon the blackness of temporal space was replaced by a view of the Earth on the view-screen.

“We did it!” said Sergeant Diego announced. “We’re back in normal space near Earth!”

“Uh, captain?” said Corporal Lopez. According to my astrometric scanners, the positions of the planets and the constellations indicate that we’re in the 21st century. Thursday, June 12th or Friday, June 13th, 2008, to be exact. The damaged continuators shot us precisely thirteen centuries and thirteen days into the past, but from our perception, the trip happened instantly. Luckily, the navigation computer kept us on a trajectory that would take us into Earth orbit.”

“That’s only the half of it!” said Commander Cruz. “We’ve entered Earth’s gravity well! We’re heading on a course that will take us down into a crash landing on the central coast of California!”

Meanwhile, back in the 34th century, Scrapper and his brothers were trying to figure out what happened to Captain Vargas.

"I picked up a neutrino signature in temporal space," said Slackjaw, "but not enough to warrant a full-size ship!"

"Do you think they're shifting back and forth between temporal space and another continuum?" Scrapper asked.

"No. There’s not enough neutrino emissions for that, I think they got blasted into oblivion.” said Slackjaw.

"I won’t be satisfied until I know Vargas is dead,” said Scrapper. “Scan temporal space and see if anything materialized there within the past couple of minutes."

Slackjaw did as Scrapper instructed. "Yep! I tracked a neutrino stream there! It has to be Vargas's freighter!"

Scrapper took a look at Slackjaw’s equipment. "Based on this trajectory, it looks like they are traveling backwards through time!”

"Let's follow them!" said Gator.

"Yeah!" said Slackjaw.

"If these read-outs are accurate," said Scrapper, "then the continuators of Vargas’s freighter were damaged, causing them to journey into the past. If they emerged from temporal space in this region of space, they would be near Earth in the early 21st century. We need to get into a trajectory in orbit around the sun and reach a third of light speed before we breach temporal space, then follow the sun’s gravitational signature into the past. We're going to have to use our cryo-tubes and go into suspended animation! It'll take us a long time to get to the same destination as Vargas, but when we get there, we'll be the same age we are now!"

“The cryo-tubes are ready, Scrapper!” said Slackjaw.

“How close can we get to the time Captain Vargas emerges into normal space?” Scrapper asked.

“We should arrive less than a week after they do,” Slackjaw replied, “maybe a day or two after if we’re lucky.”

“Take us into temporal space!” said Scrapper.

Back in the 21st century, Vargas and his crew had their own problems. “Diego!” Captain Vargas ordered, “Drain all on-board weapons batteries and divert all power into the remaining functional inertia dampeners! We’re in for a rough ride!”

"We now stand less than an inch tall!" said Diego. "Are you sure you want us to divert all power from our weapons systems? We'll be defenseless!"

"Don't argue with me, Diego!" shouted Vargas. "Just do it!"

"Yes sir!" Diego replied.

About that time in Bullet Bay, a small town on the central coast of California, a girl named Megan was excited because June 13th was her 13th birthday, and she was too restless to sleep. She got up to get a drink of water in the middle of the night and saw the miniaturized ship from her living room window, and assumed it was a meteorite. She didn’t suspect that what she saw and heard streaking across the sky and slamming into a local hillside would affect her destiny!

To Be Continued!

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