This is Part 3 of a community-written sci-fi parody serial.
Part 1: Steem Wars: No, I Would Not Recommend This Product, by @tanglebranch
Part 2: Steem Wars: In Space, No One Can Hear Your Spleen, by @negativer
Our mission:
As delivered by @gmuxx, The Time Lord: Your crew is to visit the Spleen system and investigate a time-space-interface anomaly, which interferes with Strawberro 9's atmosphere.
Our crew:
Galacdictator Tangle (@tanglebranch): Character profile here
Underlord Negavader (@negativer): Character profile here
Byepeex Reist-Stoomtrooper Destroyer (@jasonbu): Character profile here
Sixty-Wine (@caleblailmusik): Character profile here
Location: Somewhere on the surface of the planet Strawberro 9.
The hair stood up on my finely honed forearm. A sizzle was permeating the area. I stared at my forearm and flexed.
Gods, I am a fantastic specimen.
To my immediate front the air sparkled and a hum started to invade my ears in a slow crescendo.
I quickly checked my blaster and readied for action. Something was beaming down right in front of me.
Finally, something to shoot.
I took aim at the middle of the shadow forming.
Deep breath, steady… steady.
The being fully materialized. I fired three blaster rounds, center mass. Shoulder rolled to cover of a nearby boulder. A clang sounded as the rounds hit the being.
Yes, notch another one.
“Gawd dang, you shot Sixty-wine.”
What? There must be two. Sweet. A two-fer.
I shoulder rolled to the next boulder. Popped up with my blaster letting off two more rounds, blind, towards the target rich environment.
“Whoa, whoa! Stop shooting at me! Are you crazy.”
I stood staring at the guy with my blaster aimed at him. He was human, like me.
But oh, so not like me. Me and my finely sculpted warrior bod. I could squish him with my butt cheeks.
A box of metallic spare parts sprawled at his feet, several pieces smoldering.
I glanced at the blaster readout, 23 rounds.
Time I end this. Advance and conquer.
Keeping the blaster aimed at my quarry. I stepped out from the boulder and advanced with extreme action.
“Don't move,” I growled.
“Look what you’ve done, you bloody oaf!”
“Shut up. Don't move!”
I looked down the barrel of my blaster at the sniveling target.
“Oh. My. Gods. You should be dead. You’re wearing a red shirt. I can't believe it. I missed a gods damned red shirt.”
I lowered my blaster in defeat. I had missed a red shirt. I began to look inwards to the self loathing and the coming despair.
A chirp emanated from the red shirt. I immediately snapped to the ready and brought my blaster up.
“Underthing Negavader? Are you there?”
Red shirt put his finger up to signal to me, one minute. He tapped his nipple. Shook his head then tapped the other nipple.
“Yes, Galacdictator.”
“I detected blaster fire. Is anyone injured?”
I swooned. That voice oozed out of the communicator like sweet honey trapping me in its melody.
“Red Shirt. Who is that? She sounds hot.”
“The name is Negavader and that, you dork, is my fearless leader.”
“You can call me Beast, for now. Red shirt, take me to your leader. She will want to see me.”
“It’s Negavader, I will take you to her after I finish my mission. Pick up my robot parts and follow me, if you want to see her. You might be useful.”
To be continued...
WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?
STEEM Wars is the brainchild of @gmuxx. It is a community creativity parody project with a sci-fi basis. Read more in the following links:
Main image - Pixabay
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