TITLE: Duck Dodgers: Sera-phib?
AUTHOR: Andrew Joshua Talon
FANDOM: Looney Toons, Duck Dodgers in the 24th and a ½ Century
GENRE: Humor, Sci-fi action
WARNINGS: A little innuendo, a little dark humor, a tad bit of violence, ships blowing up, and bodies floating in space. How's that?
RATING: PG to PG-13
NOTES: More than likely a one or two shot experiment I'll leave lying around for a year or two… Unless someone wants it?
SECTOR 359 - GALACTIC PROTECTORATE - 78.9 LTYR from SOL SYSTEM
GP FLEET CONSTRUCTION STATION - EXPERIMENTAL
Maddox Station was a remote, nearly invisible speck of real estate in the Alpha Quadrant of the galaxy. It had only one berth, enclosed, with crewmembers and workers who rotated out every two years, and a re-supply vessel that only came once in six months.
A lonely, tiny, seemingly unimportant outpost.
"Meh… knight takes rook," said a young man in the station's only docked ship's lounge, moving his white chess piece neatly to intercept a black one. His opponent eyed the board carefully, before confidently moving her queen.
"Drat… Hm… Ah ha!"
"Grrr… How about-?"
"Nope… Still check… And mate, I do believe," she said with a small grin, as her opponent sighed deeply.
"How many times have you beat me now?"
"Approximately one-hundred and thirty-two times to date."
"We've played that many times?" The young man asked incredulously. The woman smiled, nodding.
"(sigh) Well, I suppose this is good, then… Your higher processing functions have proved themselves over time…" The young man gave the woman a kind smile
"I think you're ready."
"Hm… You have told me, though, that many Protectorate captains are opposed to robotic assistance."
"In your case, Sara, I don't think the captains would mind an extra hand." The young man gestured around the stylish, clean and well-decorated interior. "After all, you're state of the art. You'll define Protectorate missions for the next hundred years, at least."
"That is good, I suppose, Tobias," Sara conceded. The 'woman' then blinked, looking elsewhere. Tobias followed her gaze, but, seeing nothing, turned his attention back upon Sara.
"Sara? Something wrong?"
"… Have my external sensors been running a combat simulation?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Then, I believe we're in trouble."
BOOM! The deck rattled as the station took a hit, alert klaxons blaring. Tobias was thrown from his chair, his head knocking into a table. Sara walked over to him calmly, and laid a hand upon him. She nodded her head, before closing her eyes, the klaxons becoming background noise to her…
Outside, a dark-green, red starship was firing upon the station, it's twin particle cannons ripping apart the outpost's hull. The attacking ship resembled a crab's carapace, four glowing missile tubes like eyes. Abruptly, a pair of missiles were launched, and impacted the primary reactor of the station.
A bright flash of light later, and the station was ripped in two, it's lights dying, bodies of unfortunate crewmen being sucked out into the abyss. The alien ship maneuvered over to the intact, enclosed berth-wider than the vessel, and twice as long. The ship carefully fired a pair of tractor cables, which clutched the back of the container easily. The alien ship slowly began to pull away from the station, dragging it's prize with it.
Fwoosh! The doors of the bay burst open, spinning out into space. One of the doors bounced off the underside of the alien vessel's hull, and the ship seemed to pause.
That was the last stop the ship would ever make.
BOOM! A massive bolt of directed fusion energy emerged from the berth, blowing the alien starship to dust in nanoseconds. It's debris was scattered the way it had come, as though the pieces of the ship were desperate to escape whatever was in that berth.
And out of the berth… Emerged a sleek, nearly-organic, vessel, that twisted out of it's nest, and set out across the stars…
26.3 LTYR AWAY
"C'mon, Dodgers, c'mon… YES! Two points!" The captain of the Protectorate starship Drake cheered, as yet another crumpled piece of paper landed in the wastebasket. Duck Dodgers grinned to himself.
"And they said I couldn't do paperwork," Dodgers scoffed, crumpling up another sheet of paper, which bore a red TOP SECRET at it's header, and preparing to toss it along with it's brethren.
Beep beep beep beep beep! Announced the view screen, the words INCOMING MESSAGE FROM HQ scrolling over the screen. Dodgers groaned.
"Oh, great… Well, let's see now… Answer button, answer button…" The duck muttered to himself, rummaging about the bridge. Walking into the command area, the Eager Young Space Cadet looked at his captain in confusion.
"Um, sir? W-w-what are you looking for?" Dodgers was rummaging about underneath a console, running his hands back and forth.
"Hm… Apple core, soda can, ship's manifest, Sentient Lifeforms Fashion Weekly… Hey Cadet, where's the control for the comm channel?" The Cadet blinked, then sighed deeply, before walking over to and pulling a remote control out of the back pocket of the captain's jumpsuit. Dodgers turned, and grinned.
"Ah ha! Where was it?" The Cadet rolled his eyes, before pointing the remote at the screen and pressing a button marked "Answer". The screen flicked on.
"Dodgers! Dodgers?" I.Q. High, Dodger's superior, looked about the Drake's bridge quizzically.
"Right here, I.Q., what can I do you for?" Dodgers asked, walking over and sitting in his chair. The Cadet took his seat at the control console nearby, as I.Q. cleared his throat.
"Ah, good. Dodgers, we want you to head over to Sector 359. Maddox Station sent out a distress call over five hours ago, but we've gotten nothing when we tried responding. The Starship Jones will rendezvous with you at the station in one hour."
"Roger that, I.Q.! Let's get going, Cadet," Dodgers commanded, moving his finger to the remote.
"One more thing, Dodgers: Maddox Station is the site of a top secret Protectorate project. So don't ask any more questions than you have to." Dodgers shrugged.
"Not a problem, chief. Dodgers out." Blink! The channel shut off, as the Drake came about, and jumped into warp speed…
36.8 LTYR AWAY"I regret to inform you, sir, that the Utopia was destroyed in it's attempt to capture the Seraphim," the Martian sentry robot reported, bowing. The Martian Commander sat back in his command chair aboard the Olympus Mons, flagship of the Martian fleet. His eyes narrowed, a gloved finer tapping the side of his Roman-esque helmet.
"By Protectorate forces?"
"No, sir - By the Seraphim. According to the sensor logs we received, with one shot."
"Really? Hm…" The Martian Commander's eyes narrowed.
"This only confirms our suspicions - The Seraphim must be captured, at any cost! It will allow us to, at last, defeat the Galactic Protectorate, and me to at last destroy Duck Dodgers!"
"Um… Sir? If I might inquire… How are we to capture such a powerful ship?"
"… Welllll… I'm working on it, Centurion. Really, rushing gets you nowhere…"
TO (Hopefully) BE CONTINUED…