In the not-too-distant future... [We open on the Satellite of Love. Mike is sitting there; before him is a pile of menus from take-out restaurants. He's dialing a phone but having little luck reaching anyone. Propped unobtrusively in one corner of the set is a mirror.] [Enter Crow.] CROW: So, Mike, how's the dinner plans? MIKE: Not so good, Crow. Hardly any of the take-out places will deliver to geosynchronous orbit. And the ones that will are either closed or not taking dinner orders until 6:00 PM. I'm down to this last one. CROW: [craning his neck to read it] Hmm? I dunno if I'm up for Japanese. Oh well, I'll be in the load pan bay with Servo if you need me. [Crow wanders off. Mike dials the number.] PHONE: Hello, this is the Relief Goddess Office Technical Support Line. MIKE: Huh? I'm sorry, I wanted Fujishima's Takeout -- PHONE: We will have one of our technical support representatives over to you right away to handle your request. [click] MIKE: Uh... [stares at phone] Hello? Hello? [Suddenly there is a whoosh and roar of brilliant special effects, and from the mirror emerges a startlingly beautiful, elaborately dressed brown-haired and big-eyed woman...] BELLDANDY: Hello? MIKE: Yaah! Who are you? BELLDANDY: I am the Goddess Belldandy. You called from the Relief Goddess Office for help. Well, here I am. MIKE: Goddess? BELLDANDY: [bowing] At your service. My job is to assist people in dire need, such as yourself. I can grant you one wish. MIKE: Is this one of those Twilight Zone situations where I wish for something and its most awful consequence comes down and destroys me? BELLDANDY: Of course not! As a Goddess, I cannot lie or trick you. MIKE: I can wish for _anything_? BELLDANDY: Anything your heart desires. MIKE: All _right_! Okay, here I go. I wish you would take this satellite back down to Ear -- [Enter Tom and Crow.] TOM: Hey Mike, we plugged up that leak in the air intake with all of your old socks, but -- Say, who's the new girl? BELLDANDY: [smiling] Hello! MIKE: Uh, hi Tom, hi Crow, this is Belldandy. She's... er... BELLDANDY: [brightly] A goddess. CROW: You're a _goddess_? BELLDANDY: Yes. I work for the Lord, in Technical Support. TOM: Gee. What's the Lord really like? BELLDANDY: He's just like Bill Gates. CROW: Wow. [Commercial Sign light flashes.] CROW: Hey, we got commercial sign. MIKE: Gates willing, we'll be right back. [**** Commercial Break ****] TOM: So you're a real life Goddess? You have, like, magic powers and stuff? BELLDANDY: Yes, of course! [Belldandy produces spectacular fireworks with her hands.] TOM: Neat! BELLDANDY: Thank you! CROW: Mike, we have to think of a really cool wish. TOM: Yeah. I could wish for better scripts on seaQuest DSV! CROW: I could wish to decide who lives and who dies! MIKE: Listen, you two, I'm the one who manifested the supernatural being. So I get to make the wish and I've already picked it. Belldandy? BELLDANDY: [cheerfully] Yes, Mike? Have you decided? MIKE: I wish for you to take the Satellite down to -- [The Mads' light flashes.] CROW: Oh, look, Dark Schneider is calling. MIKE: Sigh... I'm noticing a trend here. [hits the button] [Deep 13. Dr. Forrester is there, looking smug as ever.] FORRESTER: Ah. Michael-kun. Botsy-chan. And... friend? [frowns] I simply must upgrade the Satellite of Love's defense systems. All sorts of galactic riff- raff are wandering on board these days. Anyway, watch your brain, because today you're going to meet a crawling horror from that den known as rec.arts.anime.stories. The lovable _Robotech_ we all enjoyed back in grade school has been transformed into a turgid morass spoken of only in whispers as _Robotech III: The Odysseus Epic_ -- and after it's over you'll feel like you've been wandering the Mediterranean for ten years too, boobie. It's served with a short, chock full of yummy conspiracy details on how your Preferred Customer Discount Card is a tool of Big Brother and the New World Order. Prepare for a Buster Beam Attack, Ataru Moroboshi. [Back on the SOL. Clearly nobody has been paying attention to Dr. F.] TOM: I've got it, I've got it! I'll wish that Battlestar: Galactica was never taken off the air. CROW: How about you wish that it didn't suck, instead? TOM: Why, you little -- [They start fighting.] BELLDANDY: [apologetically] I don't mean to be a bother, but I have to know your wish soon. The Lord has all of us goddesses on a very tight schedule ever since He released Cosmos '95. MIKE: Gee, that's a shame; it's been nice to see a new face around here. I wish you could stay with us a little longer, but -- [BOOM! A brilliant flare of light centered on Belldandy throws everyone to the floor. The set is disarrayed as small objects and assorted bits and pieces drift weightlessly around her, and sparks and flares emit from her forehead. At length, the light show winds down and she settles back to the floor.] CROW: What in the Sam Hill was _that_? BELLDANDY: [smiling] Your wish has been approved. MIKE: What wish? BELLDANDY: You wished for me to stay with all of you. And now I shall. For the duration at least, we are inseperable. MIKE: But -- that wasn't -- TOM: Oh, nice one, Nelson. We could have gotten VR.5 renewed. MIKE: But -- but I -- BELLDANDY: And it can never be revoked. Wishes are controlled by the powerful Ultimate Force. To put it in terms you would understand, it's almost as powerful as Megaweapon. CROW: Wow! That's powerful. MIKE: But -- [Buzzers and lights go off.] TOM: Oh no, we've got USENET SIGN!!! [They rush for the theater. Mike pulls Belldandy along.] BELLDANDY: Yikes! ...6...5...4...3...2...1... >Path: psuvm!news.cuny.edu!news.sprintlink.net!metro.atlanta.com! >spcuna!uunet!in2.uu.net!ftpbox!newsfeed.acns.nwu.edu!news.cc.uic.edu! >e046.gene.uic.edu!user [Everyone files into the theater.] BELLDANDY: So we sit here? MIKE: That's right. [Belldandy sits next to Mike on the left.] >From: u58563@uic.edu TOM: Heh, check this guy out. I am not a man, I am a free number! >Newsgroups: alt.fan.cecil-adams,alt.conspiracy >Subject: Re: Anti-counterfitting or Big Brother? CROW: [Minnewegian voice] Ooo, I dunno, they both look so tasty! BELLDANDY: And riff the post, like that? MIKE: Pretty much. >Date: Wed, 27 Sep 1995 22:51:07 -0500 >Organization: University of Illinois at Chicago >Lines: 56 >Message-ID: >References: MIKE: Al Face? I went to high school with Al Face! >NNTP-Posting-Host: e046.gene.uic.edu > >I don't buy the "counterfeiting strip magnetic resonance" stuff. CROW: I much prefer the "black helicopter foaming nut" stuff. >HOWEVER, all you "nice normal people" better THINK before you walk into a >"cashless society" *trap*! BELLDANDY: [enchanted] Look at all the lovely punctuation! >What could be done with the information about your bag of Doritos? TOM: Ooh, make a paper airplane, or an origami swan, or a butterfly... > Well.... >1) Government agencies tracking down fugitives or illegal immigrants or >illegal emigrants or people who try to acquire a new identity to avoid >punitive legal restrictions, etc. MIKE: Wouldn't want law enforcement agencies tracking down criminals. You never know where that could lead. > could compile a "fingerprint" of your purchases. TOM: It'll never work. They'll end up sitting in their offices until 3 AM trying to figure out where they left out a semicolon. Heh, because you see, "compile," and... > Do you like Doritos or Cheeze Curls? CROW: Cheese curls! MIKE: Doritos! CROW: Uh, door number two! TOM: The box! What's in the box! BELLDANDY: My goodness, you do get into this, don't you? MIKE: Hey, it passes the time. > Do you eat eggplant, liver, onions? MIKE: [rapid-fire] What is the location of the secret rebel base? TOM: [rapid-fire] What's the frequency, Kenneth? CROW: [rapid-fire] Why did you resign? > What breakfast cereal, what laundry detergent? BELLDANDY: [triumphantly] This is not my beautiful house! CROW: Ooh, she shoots, she scores! > Before long, you establish a single, measurable identity far more unique than a >fingerprint. > I ask you, MIKE: [as John McLaughlin] -- Morton Kondracke! TOM: Uh, what was the question? MIKE: WRONG! > *WHY* do some supermarket chains give you a discount if you >present a "Preferred Customer" card at your purchase? Do you know where >that information is going NOW? CROW: [as Dana Scully] Mulder, I ran that "Preferred Customer" card you got at Superfresh through a scanner, and the machine went crazy -- what _is_ this thing? I -- *crash* MULDER!! > [ObCecilAdams: where DOES that info go?] MIKE: Into delicious, chewy Pepperidge Farm cookies! Mmm-mmm, good! >2) Socialist health care is a standard in much of the world. If you >overeat, it costs the government money. If you don't get your vitamins, >it costs the government money. Clearly some inventive bastard CROW: *Gasp*! Dr. Clayton Forrester! > will wait about 2.3 seconds after cash is abolished, then propose a Caloric Tax. >Everything you buy that is edible TOM: Phew. They won't be taxing my Twinkie purchases. BELLDANDY: Or my sister Urd's cooking. CROW: Say, you have a _sister_? BELLDANDY: [gently] Crow, don't get your hopes up. > will be indexed for healthiness, and the > Social Cost of your actions will be appended to your bill. MIKE: And we _all_ know how painful that can be. TOM: Next time on "Cops." A madman is holed up in an apartment with ten hostages and a full bag of membership warehouse popcorn... > This has the further advantage of spotting Undeclared Persons, if they want to eat, TOM: [as interviewer] And do you have a special diet, Mr. Tirebiter? CROW: [as old man] I don't eat. TOM: You don't eat? CROW: But it hasn't affected my appetite! >since anomalous calorie usage will show up on the computers. And if you >want to drink some beer.... ! ... God help you!!! BELLDANDY: [brightly] Yes? MIKE: I think he was speaking metaphorically. TOM: Heh. 24-hour police surveillance doesn't faze this guy, but take away his beer... > They'll have you >rationed yet; you'll probably have to return the empties to prove that you >are having a healthy single beer after dinner instead of a destructive >"binge". (they'll call it "recycling" at first?) CROW: You tell us! You're the writer... >3) Imagine the benefits in forensics. TOM: Just imagine! Yes, 3M innovation can bring to _you_ -- > WHO dared to deface the anti-tobacco billboard? MIKE: Suddenly this is a Dr. Seuss story! TOM: It was the net.loon, in the conservatory, with the lead pipe. CROW: Ah, I'd just like to point out here that this allegedly individualist poster is actively taking the side of huge, evil multinational corporations that sell addictive drugs. Thank you. > Well, who bought gasoline within the radius, or >used public transportation, and has purchased red spray paint from company >X MIKE: At last, a company for our generation. > (they'll have a way to figure out which!). Now restrict that those >wearing shoes with the registered shoe-prints of whatever U.S. >distributor... CROW: [as policeman] Now touch your fingertips together at arm's length... Now breathe into this tube. All right, sir, you can go. Drive safely, now. > before long you have your terrorist! TOM: Yep! You've got him! Easy as pie! Er, you're not buying this, are you. > Sentence him to a >lifetime of electronic monitoring and restriction of civil liberties, with >cell-phone real-time bugging built in, MIKE: They're going to put him on jury duty? Those fiends! > and see how much revolution he can plot! TOM: Bet he could plot a heck of an episode of "Star Trek: Voyager," though. >4) Complete surveillance provides a far higher quality of feedback to the >controllers of a society. A media campaign for Colon Powell [All snicker.] CROW: Sounds like a new type of laxative. "Gentle, soothing Colon Powell..." MIKE: [putting a hand on his shoulder] Okay, that's enough. > can be measured precisely, in terms of copies of newspapers sold, decreases in >donations to other candidates (it isn't just THEIR business anymore), CROW: It's not just for breakfast anymore! TOM: It's not just for conspiracy wackos anymore. >copies of his book sold (where, when?). TOM: Mr. Vice President! Somebody finally bought a copy of your book! > Conversely, if a particular community has a problem; MIKE: Hello. I'm Andover, Massachusetts, and... I have a problem. ALL: Hello, Andover. > if it has an unusual high rate of sale of Noam >Chomsky volumes, for instance, the persons making those purchases can be >examined in detail. TOM: By employees of the Federal Department of We Had Nothing Better to Do That Sunday Afternoon. > What do they have in common --- do they watch a >particular program on cable with a hidden subversive agenda? CROW: [brightly] Oh, you mean like the Mystery Sci -- uh... oh. ALL: [ahem, cough, clear throats, etc.] > Do they make >contacts on Internet that somehow have not been busted with convenient >laws CROW: The Law... TOM: The LAW! about pornography, advocating drug legalization, giving usable >recipes for potentially destructive or abusable products? Although this >sounds vague --- it is vague --- TOM: [nudging Belldandy] Go ahead. Say it. BELLDANDY: Okay. Um... I suppose it's nice that there's finally a verifiable fact in this post. MIKE: You know, you've been pretty quiet so far, Belldandy. BELLDANDY: Well, if I can't say anything good about someone I try not to say anything at all. Is that wrong? > I rather suspect that this last provision CROW: Provision of _what_? TOM: I think we left the antecedent at the station about ten miles back. >will turn out to be the most devastating of all, because in the end >intelligence is the most crucial part of the battle. MIKE: Heh. >=== Long live the revolution! === MIKE: [thoughtfully] Isn't that actually the problem with most revolutions? CROW: Uh, I'd love to stay and chew the dialectic with you, Mike, but we gotta go. [Exeunt.] ...1...2...3...4...5...6...*... [SOL Bridge. A small kitchenette has appeared from nowhere. Belldandy is cooking something on it while humming an awful tune. Mike, Tom, Crow, and Gypsy are gathered 'round.] BELLDANDY: [humming (see, I told you)] Oh egg, oh egg, I'm gonna mix you... MIKE: So, uh, Belldandy, what did you think of the post? BELLDANDY: Oh, from everything I've heard they're supposed to be terrible. But actually, it was quite a lot of fun! TOM: _Really_? BELLDANDY: Of course! When you mock the terrible posts that get sent to you, you reaffirm how happy you really are to be alive -- even if it is up on a satellite in space. And as long as you have that hope and happiness, the posts are just words and letters; they cannot harm you. CROW: Huh. I never thought about it that way. BELLDANDY: All done! [She starts apportioning out plates of whatever it is she's cooked.] GYPSY: Yum! MIKE: What is it? BELLDANDY: Well, let's see. It's boiled octopus, folded over in fried hake, poured on French toast. MIKE: Er... BELLDANDY: Don't worry, I made some without RAM chips for the two of us. Dig in! [Cut to Deep 13. Dr. F looks seriously perturbed.] FORRESTER: No. This is unacceptable! The subject, actually enjoying himself? That'll ruin all my experimental results! Seven seasons -- er, years of hard research, wasted! The National Mad Science Foundation might take away my grant! [determined] No, it won't happen. This must be stopped! I'll have to hit Godai and Kyoko up there where it _hurts_, and finish them off with _one blow_! [He jumps up and starts looking through a file cabinet. From each file folder he produces something evil and ugly-looking.] FORRESTER: Let's see... Deep Hurting... concentrate of Ratliff... -_- additive... essence of alt.tv.x-files.creative? Yeargh! That's too evil, even for me. [Finally, at the back of the cabinet, he finds a tiny glowing crystal.] FORRESTER: A-_ha_! Of course... desperate times call for desperate measures! Install this in the console, will you, Fra -- oh, that's right. [Dr. F installs the crystal in the console himself.] FORRESTER: Let's see you Nut Sabers stand up against... _Hypno-Helio Static Stasis_! Ah-HA, hahahahahahaahahaaaa!! [Cut to SOL bridge. Everyone is enjoying the food with gusto, bots making "yummy" noises, and so on.] MIKE: This is great! GYPSY: Delicious! BELLDANDY: I knew you'd like -- [Pause. She suddenly looks worried.] Do you hear maniacal laughter? MIKE: Um, well, now that you mention it -- TOM: Say, Mike, could you, uh, help me out here? Er, what with the arms and all. MIKE: Sure thing, bud. BELLDANDY: [quickly] Please, allow me! [She spears a bit of food with her chopsticks and offers it to Tom.] Open wide! TOM: Why, thank you! [Tom eats the morsel and suddenly springs out of his seat.] TOM: AAAH!! CROW: Huh? BELLDANDY: What's wrong? TOM: It's TOO GOOD! I... I can't TAKE IT!! MIKE: Hey, Tom -- TOM: WHAT FLAVOR! Tastier than the five-star cuisine of the finest chefs! A hundred -- nay, a THOUSAND -- nay, TEN THOUSAND TIMES TASTIER! HOW CAN I EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE SUCH FLAVOR?! [He collapses loudly on the floor. Pause.] CROW: I'll have what he's having. [Movie Sign alarms go off --] MIKE: Uh oh. We've got FANFIC SIGN!! ...*...6...5...4...3...2...1... [All four enter the theater. Belldandy is carrying Tom.] MIKE: Er, I can carry him. BELLDANDY: Oh, it's no trouble! [She sets Tom down and sits next to Mike again.] There you go. TOM: [still dazed] Such flavor... >Newsgroups: rec.arts.anime.stories BELLDANDY: How strange. MIKE: Hmm? BELLDANDY: I just felt the fall of a very small, but definitely unlucky star. >Path: psuvm!news.cac.psu.edu!news.tc.cornell.edu!travelers.mail.cornell.edu! >news.kei.com! CROW: [as fanboy] They're death in high heels! Armageddon in a teeny-weeny bikini! TOM: [as fanboy] Screw you, pal! Lovely Angels rule! >newshost.marcam.com! MIKE: Is that still up, after the plague and all? >usc!howland.reston.ans.net! >tank.news.pipex.net!pipex!in1.uu.net!world!megazone >From: Presley Cannady <76725.1245@CompuServe.COM> CROW: Dear National Enquirer. Elvis is alive! He has a Compuserve account and he lives in Canada! >Subject: [Preview] Robotech: TOE A-I Book 2 [FanFic] TOM: Robotech: Artificially Intelligent Toes! CROW: Hey, I _liked_ Robotech! >Message-ID: <4471ou$lbs$2@mhadf.production.compuserve.com> >Followup-To: poster MIKE: So after the fanfic is over we get to wind up and post the author! All right! >X-World-Archive: TOM: A whole new universe from Marvel Comics. Coming soon. > Robotech/robotech.odysseus-epic.book-2.gz >Sender: megazone@world.std.com (MegaZone) >Organization: Robotech Development Group, North Eastern America TOM: Scotty, don't you _ever_ mention that show again -- or I'll stab you to death with my chin. MIKE: [doubletake] _Wow_, that's obscure. >Date: Tue, 26 Sep 1995 07:44:30 GMT >Approved: megazone@world.std.com >Lines: 407 BELLDANDY: Oh, my. >And a preview of Book II: The Bending of Rules-- > >Robotech III: The Odysseus Epic >by Presley H. Cannady and others CROW: Don't step on my blue suede Veritechs. >76725.1245@compuserve.com > >Act I- Superdimensional Starforce Orion TOM: [alien voice] Star Force? We do not consider the Star Force to be a threat. >Book II- The Bending of Rules >________________________________________________________________ > >The New Era Sagas and all therein are copyright 1995@ Presley H. >Cannady. CROW: [singing] You ain't nothin' but an Invid dog, a-frying troops of mine... MIKE: I think that's enough Elvis jokes for now. > All rights reserved. Any profit-intended publication of >this novel without authorization of the author or current copyright >holders is strictly prohibited. MIKE: [bemused] They always say that. BELLDANDY: Well, hope springs eternal! >Copyright 1995@ Anime/Macross/Robotech Development Group >Copyright 1985@ Harmony Gold TOM: If these are E-mail addresses, they're pretty badly formed. >Copyright 1982@ Tatsunoko Productions >Copyright 1982@ Studio Nue CROW: It took five people to copyright this fanfic. >________________________________________________________________ > >This story is the largest part of my New Era interpretation. TOM: Uh-oh. MIKE: Threats will get you nowhere, Presley! We can't be cowed that easily! > My theories conclude that there are many Robotech universes: CROW: [maniacally] And we can get from ONE to the NEXT by using JUMBO COSMOSPHERES! > Aubry Thonon and Peter Walker's Pretoxican universe, Macek's original >design, and now, my Tkon universe. >__________________________________________________________ MIKE: I hate these Netscapisms. People should just use
. I mean, it's in the standard, after all. TOM: Yeah, sure, Mike. Whatever. >* * * > >EPISODE V: Skyward Again CROW: How far into this fanfic are we, anyway? I'm ready for a break. BELLDANDY: I don't think it's started yet. CROW: Oh. >Chapter X- MIKE: Slackers Go To War. TOM: [importantly] This fanfic is rated X the Unknown. Absolutely no one admitted, mitted, mitted... > We ride into battle on our steeds of war. Soaring higher and >higher to the peak of perfection. To defend, to uphold CROW: Hey, this is the opening montage from "Reboot!" TOM: Let the Mads overwhelm us with a _fanfic_? I don't _think_ so. > and to observe the individual right of freedom and peace. CROW: And now it's "Babylon 5"! >-Mongol Squadron Motto, circa 2078 > > They enticed as the maids of Samarkand, and brought barbarianistic MIKE: When this guy uses suffixes, he doesn't mess around! >passion to the order and peace of the Halls of Peking. TOM: Peking is Peiping. > From North to South, from Manchuria to Laos, BELLDANDY: From Satchel to Page? > they left their mark on all. > They were the Mongolians, Riders, Warriors, Beautiful. TOM: Oh, right, except for the innocent civilians they trod underfoot as they hacked their bloody way across medieval Asia. We're not in for 407 lines of glorification of war, are we, Mike? MIKE: Well -- TOM: Because if we are, I could just go and read that Tom Clancy novel the Mads sent us. BELLDANDY: [alarmed] No, Tom! You have too much to live for! >-adapted from The Tartars and the Yuan, an epic by Sir Aaron Toland, CROW: [sarcastic] Oh, an _epic_ by _Sir_ Aaron Toland. >Worcestor 1998, used as a opening paragraph to Colonel Hirota's >Recall Oh-One, One General's Autobiography, CROW: So, uh, y'think Colonel Hirota will run for President? MIKE: Naw, he just wants to sell more copies of his autobiography. > published New Randall >House, 2245 TOM: Remaindered New Crazy Eddie's Buck-A-Book Shop, 2246. >* * * > >Looking out on the field of glory, the fields of hell and death, to >which even death seemed preferable. CROW: Uh, if you see a verb, Presley, hop on. BELLDANDY: [dubiously] So, to sum up, death is preferable to... death? > The game played for lives, and >only the quick, the most apt tactician would survive. MIKE: Oh, it's just NetDoom. Really, some people take this stuff too seriously. > The major difference in tactics of the Neo-Robotech Wars and her >predecessors was the fact that strategy was not played in the "shoot- >out" traditionalist methods pioneered by the Zentraedi and >subsequently adopted by the space-virgin Terrans. CROW: Sayyyy... naah, too easy. > Now, in this age of >higher-manueverability and the first Robotech War to actually pit >Earth against an enemy not technically superior, it had boiled down to >one point, the mind versus the mind. MIKE: Which meant that in this fanfic both sides were in deep, deep trouble. > The weakest enemy Terra had ever faced now posed to be their greatest threat. TOM: Static cling! Who would have thought...? > In a war that had gone > on for longer than many remembered, for what reasons no one cared, for >what instigation no one thought existed. CROW: Like, say, Robotech III: The Odysseus Epic. What did _we_ ever do to deserve it? > It was preferable this way, Jadi decided to herself, positioning >herself in her enemies footholds. TOM: But then, Jadi was a bitter, lonely woman... > Shouting out an order through the radio, she gave an order TOM: [whispering] What's going on? BELLDANDY: [whispering] I think she's giving an order. > for the newest fighter squadron of the Imperial Forces, the Dyushan, to launch. CROW: [as fighter pilot] Okay, but who are you? > Their mecha, of the same >name, had been developed from the Pariah, the Valkyrie, but most >importantly, the Marduk. TOM: Their speech, too, had been, overwhelmed by, most importantly, the commas. > It was moditransformable, but standard mode >was a sixteen-point-one-five meter Battloid, wielding the dangerous, >bat-like features CROW: [deeply] We're Batman. > that made the new Pariah Strikers feared, TOM: [baseball announcer voice] Now coming onto the field-ield-ield, your new- ew-ew Pariah-ah-ah Strikers-ers-ers! > but a completely new weapon. Its fighter mode included a splinter-wing >design, MIKE: So-called due to its tendency to come apart in flight. > and a more gothic copy of the fearsome GU-23 and GU-56 >autocannons still in service on the Confederation side. CROW: Let me guess. You get shot by them, and immediately start wearing black and pretending you're a vampire? > War, she savored the word, MIKE: Mmmm... war. > the sacrement of her family. TOM: Sheesh! I called it. Glorification of war, right there. CROW: So... we're about three chapters into this fanfic now? BELLDANDY: It's more like a page. CROW: Oh. >* * * TOM: Oh my God, it's full of stars! >When the H'than left the Corron Empire to found their own influential >circuit, MIKE: Previously, on "The Odysseus Epic." > they neither abandoned their loyalties to blood, nor the >Imperial Family. However, the relation the H'than held in the Corron >Government CROW: [bellowing] In the name of the Second Corron Empire! MIKE: Never do that again. > allowed them a freedom that no internal family would >possess, the ability to simply "not" tide the biddings of the Empress >and her Arbitrary.Council. TOM: [shaking his head] I understand each individual word, but... > This would be the beginning of one of them. Five-hundred million >miles from the Corron border to the Giovanni Stretch, BELLDANDY: [perkily] Okay, everyone! Do the Giovanni Stretch... [...Everyone stretches...] BELLDANDY: ...And now relax. [...Everyone relaxes.] > the H'than bordered the edge of the frontier towards the Galactic Barrier and the >space closest to Earth itself. CROW: Okay, wait a minute. He says that the H'than, whoever _they_ are, are 500 million miles from the Earth border. Now a light year is 5.8 _trillion_ miles long. That means these guys are only, umm, a little less than one ten- thousandth of a light year from Earth! That's inside our own solar system! TOM: I'm down with that, Crow. And in fact the planet Jupiter orbits only 483 million miles from our Sun. That means the H'than, the Corron border, the Giovanni Stretch, the Galactic Barrier, and the Terran border are all barely farther apart than Earth, on average, is from Jupiter! CROW: [triumphantly] So we reach the inescapable conclusion: as far as science-fiction writers go, our friend Presley Cannady not only is no Isaac Asimov, he's barely L. Ron Hubbard! Q.E.D. MIKE and BELLDANDY: Wow. > Only fifteen hundred lightyears from earth space, CROW: Forget it, Presley. You're just digging yourself deeper. > she had a chosing the the ripest colony worlds based >along her border. TOM: Red Alert! We have a grammar sequencer overload! The syntactical structure field is going critical! MIKE: You've been watching "Star Trek: Voyager" again, haven't you? > Many, of course, were heavily fortified planets, requiring a small flotilla at least to subdue. MIKE: Arrgh! "Masters of Orion" is just too _difficult_ for me! > At this time, such a force would no doubt be met by Confederation retribution, TOM: [as admiral] Blair, you and Paladin are going to go after those Kilrathi transports. You'll be flying Rapiers... > and from recent events leaked by H'than "liaisons" in the Corron intelligence >network, MIKE: _Dangerous_ liaisons. > such a move could prove disasterous. > Only a handful of the feudal military lords of the H'than Empire >Council knew of the Ko'irl. CROW: And fewer even cared. > Captain Second Class Arnoa Touko was not of the H'than mainstream >family, but of one of the fifteen smaller families that followed this >progidal third of the Corron race into the deeper ends of undeclared >space. TOM: This reads like a James A. Michener novelization of "Fugitive Alien." CROW: Yeah, with Stephen Ratliff copy editing. > This uniquely pivotted them between a seemingly insignifgant >planet Earth, MIKE: We Earthlings never get any respect, y'know? It's always "insignificant" this and "backwards and warlike" that... > once targetted for future expansion of the new H'than >Empire, but suddenly found reproachful CROW: [as Inigo Montoya] I do not think that word means what you think it means. > when the blue-green world's >rapid technological advancement took an unprecedented turn. TOM: Yes, humanity's too-early development of the inside-the-eggshell egg scrambler threw the aliens' war plans into disarray! > As if heralded by the Founder's themselves, CROW: Oh, and suddenly we're in "Deep Space Nine". MIKE: [bemused] The founder's _what_? Bar and grill? > Earth had suddenly been caught >up into a role that played down the Corron expansion into space to a >mere trifle in comparison. 'BOTS: [as Corrons] We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're scum! > For now, they would wait, and they would strike decisively, and >place Hara and Hw'ith once again at the center of the Universe. MIKE: But for Arnoa Touko and her H'than Empire, there would be another day... >* * * CROW: Hey, wait a minute! What _about_ Captain Touko? What the heck was the _point_ of all that? >Earthdock, 23,000 kilometers over the surface at Lagrange Point Trojan >Alpha TOM: I call NO WAY! Earth's Lagrange Points aren't 23,000 kilometers above its surface! Mike, tell him! MIKE: Shh, it's okay, Tom. >October 4, 2173 CROW: The year the Great War... ahh, forget it. >"Slow to impulse power, point-four lightspeed," the first officer ordered. MIKE: And the audience is stunned by actual dialogue! > The helm responded, quickly complying to the order as the >streaking stars slowed to their normal, realspace value. The Farragut >glided across the orbits of Mars and her two moons as their homeworld >came in sight. ETA, fifteen minutes. CROW: This is just like an E. E. "Doc" Smith novel, except it sucks. > "Earthdock control, this is Farragut, code Naval Starship >Designation One-Seven-One-Eight-Mark," the communications officer >signalled. MIKE: It's the U.S.S. Farragut, the wackiest ship in the fleet! > "Approach vector at point-four light speed to Apex Point >Delta." TOM: Helm, set a course for ROMANCE! > "This is Earthdock Control," the reply came back. BELLDANDY: [as "Earthdock Control"] All of our operators are busy right now. Please stay on the line. Your approach vector is important to us. CROW: [awed] You _do_ work in Technical Support! > "You are clear for apex approach. Prepare to slow to thrusters for planetary >intercept." MIKE: What's with all this preparing? Just go! CROW: Right, sir. Just go! > This continued for the next ten minutes as the behemouth starship >was guided inward towards home. As the blue world that served as the >ark for the survivors of homo sapiens, Earth, or more commonly Terra, TOM: "Steve" to its friends. >began to show the true relativistic size and insignifigance of the >small piece of universal matter that the Farragut actually was. CROW: You are nothing, mon! > Even so, the view was spectacular if not breathtaking. TOM: [sarcastic] Oh, I'll bet it _really_ strains the special effects budget of this _fanfic_. > Rear Admiral Thomas Satie, commander of the starship, onboard >RDF/REF and ship-sponsered Squadrons, and a member of the Committee of >Fleet Deployment, ALL: A good friend. > glared hostily at the screen as his own homeworld increased in size. TOM: Stupid homeworld! I hate you forever! > Just off to the right, basking in the glow of the illuminated side >of Earth's growing aphelion orbit, CROW: AAAH!! Earth's orbit is growing! We're all gonna drift off into space and freeze to death! TOM: Crow, relax. > was the Earthdock. Built from the >remains of Dolza's stupidly humongous starship; the shard's of Little >Luna, the Zentraedi Factory Satellite; CROW: The bits and pieces of Vader's Death Star Mark II... MIKE: The twisted ruins of the factory ship _Nostromo_... BELLDANDY: The crumpled wreckage of an '83 Buick? MIKE: Sure, why not? TOM: Y'know... I can't help but wonder how structurally stable a starbase built out of random chunks of space garbage is going to be. > and the Southern Cross Liberty >Space Station, once the only contact to the outside universe, it had >an air of nostalgic history to it. MIKE: ["Minnewegian" voice] Oo, yah, so we took the men and all went down to Earthdock over the weekend. CROW: [ditto] There's so much history there, y'know. BELLDANDY: Wouldn't it be _up_ to Earthdock? > Its design was new, popular due to >the practicality its generated when originally displayed during the >Star Trek phenomona of the late twentieth century. 'BOTS: [just snicker at this] MIKE: Hey, Presley, it's too late to shoot for a crossover _now_! > The same basic design was emminent, but their were major design changes, CROW: Design! Design design design design design! > and the fact it dwarfed the fictional starbase nearly 200 times over. TOM: Oh yeah? Well, _my_ fictional starbase is _500_ times as big as yours. CROW: Well, mine's ten _thousand_ times as big! TOM: Mine's a MILLION times as big. CROW: Mine's -- MIKE: Chill, you two. > The great station's massive upper-docking ring, a gigantic >structure stretching seven-hundred miles in diameter, rotated to face >the incoming vector. ALL: [start humming the Blue Danube Waltz] > Smaller ships, fighters ranging from Alphas and >old Valkyries to Khybers, VT-IIs and Tymanechs, and even commercial >and civilial shuttles and VT's lined up near and around the Farragut's >approach, taking advantage of the clearway through the massive shuttle >traffic through this region. MIKE: So, is there any particular reason why so many highly expensive and technically advanced military spacecraft are just wandering aimlessly around the solar system? > As the moon passed by and cislunar orbit gave way, one could >compare Earthdock as Earth's orbiting Venus. TOM: Oh, no! I just realized it! This fanfic's scientific advisor is Alexander Abian! [all scream] > That planet had long >been obliterated, nearly altering Earth's own orbit and causing severe >gravitational distortions for decades afterwards. MIKE: I bet it made a mess of TV reception, too. But now, the >morning star was evident day and night, hovering over Earth as its >guardian angel. CROW: At an altitude of twenty-three feet. Talk about your navigational hazards! > The massive doors were already opened to fifteen percent of their >maximum apperature (three-fourth's of the mushroom-like docking cap). >Hundreds of capital ships could be deployed or taken in at a time at >just this opening, and thousands of smaller vessels frequently took >advantage of this commodity. TOM: [exasperated] Presley, we don't _care_. > Almost redundant in function, three distinctive beam spread out >from the axis beneath the upper caps. The Triumverate, a namesake the >Tirolian designer had given to this section, consisted of three >circular modules for docking and various other purposes. As with all >the mushroom-cap and circular modules, living quarters, working >spaces, and hundreds of onboard-colony cities were spread throughout. CROW: Did this fanfic just turn into a James Hogan novel while I wasn't looking? TOM: Bet you a million dollars we never see this starbase again. >Each being 250 miles in diameter, they were the largest independent >structures apart from the axis and the main docking ring. MIKE: I'm guessing the motif here is "big". > "Drifting thrusters, three-fourth's reverse," TOM: Special punctuation assistance by Kittens on Keys, Inc. > the captain enjoyed riding the horse through the barn door on his own, CROW: _If_ you know what I mean. > but knew once he >reached the mooring perimeter, Operations onboard the station would >take over with special laiden bars containing tractor diodes. MIKE: The captain would end his years bitter and alone, nursing his lifelong grudge against Station Operations. Think about it, won't you? >"Alright, Goodman, take her in, manuevering thrusters only." TOM: Sorry, sir, I'm too busy creating game shows. > "Heading mark 5, course zero-zero-zero Relative," he lined his >sights, BELLDANDY: [worried] Do you think the lieutenant should be _firing_ on it? MIKE: Heck, why not? This fanfic could use an action sequence. > taking the challenge in stride. CROW: _Challenge_? This is the 23rd-century equivalent of parallel parking! > A lieutenent, a seasoned >officer of the Interfederation divisions, he held respect for his >commanding officer's confidence. "Slowing delta-v to 2.5 kps." MIKE: [as "lieutenent"] Slowing plot to 0.01 wps, sir. > The speed diminished quickly, the massive thrusters of the capital >ships retro firing as she pulled in, safely. TOM: It's the biggest interstellar empire around, and the safest! > "We've got you Farragut. CROW: [casually] We've got you, Farragut. We've got you... TOM: BOOM! CROW: We've got you. >Welcome home." > The captain merely smiled at his helmsman, and ordered, "Set >moorings." TOM: [as helmsman] Sir, are you high? >* * * > >Shoreleave had come quite unexpected at first, and thoroughly >appreciated. CROW: Hey, speaking of shore leave, let's get outta here. TOM: I thoroughly appreciate _that_! [Mike picks up Tom and they all start to head out of the theater.] BELLDANDY: [wavering a bit] Mike, all of humans' artworks aren't as bad as this fanfic, are they? Because if they are... MIKE: Of course not! Let me show you something... ...6...5...4...3...2...1...*... [continued in part 2...] [continued from part 1...] [SOL Bridge. We zoom back and see a huge picture of Mike on the Gizmonic doors. The lights are low and the 'bots are wailing in anguish! Oh, there's also a projector screen in one corner of the set.] TOM: No! No! Mike Nelson's _dead_!! CROW: It must have been that horrible fanfic! Oh, the _humanity_! [Sob!] TOM: Well, this isn't going to be the end of it! We'll find his killer if it's the last thing we do! CROW: Are you sure he was murdered? Maybe the fanfic was so bad that, um, he just decided to end it all and jump out the airlock. TOM: Crow, even an LA jury wouldn't buy a dumb story like that! No, we're going to have to do some detective work here! [sharply] Cambot! Roll the slides of today's experiment. [The first slide comes up, of a woman in blue body armor. Tom starts humming the "Dragnet" theme.] CROW: The time: 5:02 PM. The place: Satellite of Love. Today's Friday. My name's Tuesday. I'm a cop. Our first suspect: a woman known only as "Jadi." Last seen issuing meaningless orders to nonexistent military units. Motive: Obviously a member of the "Militia Movement." TOM: Watch it with the militia jokes, Crow. Some of them have anti-satellite missiles. CROW: Is that legal? TOM: [puzzled] Legal? [The slide changes to a tall, sneery-looking man in a captain's uniform.] CROW: Suspect #2: Rear Admiral Thomas Sadie. All that's known is that he hates Earth. [triumphantly] And the deceased was an Earthman! Case closed! TOM: I think we need more detail on this guy. CROW: That's all there was. TOM: Oh. [The slide changes to an outline of a woman with a question mark in the center.] CROW: Suspect #3: Captain Arnoa Touko. TOM: Well? CROW: We don't know anything about her, either. TOM: You know, I'm sensing a trend here. [dramatically] Could it be that the _real_ culprit in this foul crime is the man who's stymied our investigation with a profusion of no-dimensional characters? In other words... Cambot? [The slide changes to a huge question mark.] CROW: Gasp! The Riddler? TOM: _No_! Presley H. Cannady himself! Book 'em, Danno! CROW: Hey! I'm Joe Friday. _You're_ Danno. TOM: But I wanted to be Anna Lee from "Mystery." CROW: Fembot. TOM: Am not! She's just cool, that's all. [In the middle of this, enter Mike and Belldandy from the right. They are speaking animatedly. (Literally so, in Belldandy's case.)] BELLDANDY: I see now! Plot -- establishment of scene -- character development -- everything that was missing from the fanfic! MIKE: You've got to admit, that Orson Welles was a genius. BELLDANDY: That bit where the results of the doctored penicillin are implied -- and the camera _almost_ shows it -- gave me the shivers! MIKE: Yeah, that -- Oh, hey Tom, hey Crow. How's the skit going? [He notices that the 'bots are just staring at him and trembling.] MIKE: What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost. 'BOTS: AAAAAAAGGHHH!!! [They run off, screaming. Mike looks at Belldandy. They both shrug. Suddenly buzzers and lights go off...] MIKE: Hey, we've got fanfic sign! ...*...6...5...4...3...2...1... [All enter the theater.] MIKE: You OK now, Belldandy? BELLDANDY: [beaming] Thanks to that infusion of good cinema, I'm ready for anything. I think. TOM: Hey, how come you didn't invite _us_ to go watch "The Third Man" with you? MIKE: Well, you and Crow seemed to be having such a good time with your little sketch. I didn't want to ruin the atmosphere. > Despite the seemingly short weeks that had been spent on >active duty, Lieutenent Kyoko Yatsumi, commander Savannah Group, had >found herself CROW: The newly appointed landlord at a small Tokyo boarding house! > slowly accepting that an entire Terran summer, two >months, had drifted by. Such shoreleaves, on Earth in fact, were >rare, the next being scheduled for five years later. MIKE: Y'know, that's the problem with Earth. You have to book so long in advance. > The Horizont BELLDANDY: Horizont? > she flew aboard was archaic, homage to the two >Robotech Expeditionary Fleets. Named the Azuza, by its chief mechanic >and primary nostalgic otaku, TOM: [shaking] Stop it. Just stop it right now! BELLDANDY: Tom, calm down! TOM: I'm sorry! But I've had it up to HERE with the knowing self-reference! > it carried a crew of four and a passenger >compliment of seventy as they descended into Earth's atmosphere. CROW: And burnt to a cinder on re-entry. The end. TOM: "Apollo 13" this is _not_. > She was wearing civilian clothes, as opposed to standard military >onworld off-duty uniforms. TOM: Hey, I've had this dream... > Kyoko's shoreleave would last five months, if uninterrupted by MIKE: -- the plot. TOM: Oh, I don't think we need to worry about that. > the call back to active duty. And with the wide- >spreading of capital ships and redeployment and clock-shifting of the >fleets, CROW: Not to mention changing immigration patterns and the rising cost of tungsten -- > that possibility seemed rather unlikely. > Asia came into view first, covered by a thicket blanket of strato- >nimbus overcast resulting from the weather pattern reclamation >programs of the mid-2060's. MIKE: Desperately trying to slow the story down, the author resorts to bringing us the day's weather report. > She could see the horrid blast marks to >imprinted in China and the Mongolian Southern Quadrant. As the >Horizont BELLDANDY: Horizont? CROW: Grignr? > descended below the torrid clouds, she watched New Beijing >and Shanghai grace her condescendingly. She wondered if small >children, not much unlike herself at that age, would look up and see >her, flying. MIKE: Well, only if she jumps out. CROW and TOM: [whispering] Jump... jump... MIKE: That's dark, guys. > The South China Sea quickly passed underneath them as they slowed >from hypersonic to approach speed for Okinawa. TOM: Oh, now he's stealing the opening from "Gunbuster." > The overcast dimmed >and faded out, the morning sun bursting over the coast of the Atalian >Islands. CROW: Aaaahh! Now the sun's gone nova! > Once, long ago, that small chain had been raped of one of >its sister islands, an island that had been responsible for much of >the change Earth had gone through. TOM: Fantasy Island! BELLDANDY: No, the Mysterious Island. From Jules Verne. MIKE: No, no, he must mean Gilligan's Island. > The shuttle stopped over Hasake, TOM: And hung in the sky in exactly the same way bricks don't... > a new city placed as the capital >of the Ryukyu Footchain Quadrant, just south and west of home island >Japan. Smiling brightly to herself, she anticipated the return to >civilianity CROW: Sid Meier's Civilianity. > as much as she had long for the life of the military, four >years ago. MIKE: But for young Shannon Faulkner, it was not to be... >* * * > > Okinawa came into view only a few minutes later. CROW: Meanwhile, in the _same_ _scene_! Sheesh. > Soon, the shuttle had slowed to an appreciable fraction of subsonic speed and >finally came to an approach vector along the Ryukyu SpaceBase. MIKE: You know, I really dig those FunkyCaps. I do. > As the monolithic towers of the starbase, attributed to an older Monument >City, ALL: [singing] Monument City, it's a hell of a town, the starbase is up and the monolith's down... > passed by, she could easily see the river, torn into the ground >a century ago by a Zentraedi's warbeam, that would lead up to her >uncle's house. BELLDANDY: I wonder what the Zentraedi had against her uncle. TOM: [as old lady] Oh, yes, he was always such a nice man, too. > Since Aunt Kazumi died, CROW: Just didn't feel like putting up with Nabiki and Akane any more, I guess. > she had kept in touch with the one-hundred >and five year old man. For his age, he was still very vigorous, MIKE and 'BOTS: We know. >almost as if he were sixty again. But that had passed, as had his >beloved wife over the ripples of the Kanzwa. BELLDANDY: [sniff] It's so sad! TOM: Ye -- uh... you _are_ kidding, right? > Her hovertaxi followed the chain of highways across Okinawa's west >coast until they reached the suberb. MIKE: So Okinawa is just one town? > The trees here were not >indigenous to Okinawa, or even Japan. Imported from what had survived >of the Northwest American Quadrant, CROW: ...after the devastating Punctuation and Capitalization Riots of 1999... > it had been implanted with fern >trees and redwoods cloned after Japan declined her seperatist position. TOM: In other words, the author had no reference material for what a _real_ forest on Okinawa might look like. > Almost five decades of war had been erased, and nature had >rewarded humanity for their persistence in restoring balance. CROW: [as smarmy announcer] And for Humanity, a lovely matching towel set and a copy of our home game! Aren't they great, folks? Let's give 'em a big hand... > Only a few ten million people lived onworld, despite its position >as the capital of the Confederation. To be more honest, it was the >secondary capital; the primary construct on a neutral world orbiting a >nearby star, AGC-1198, would not be completed for another two decades. BELLDANDY: [despairing] Oh, couldn't he just have said "Earth: Mostly harmless" and left it at that? MIKE: Presley H. Cannady only turned to writing fanfics after he was fired from his job at the Encyclopedia Britannica. > She'd get a job, at the local ROTC center; probably even a flight >instructor. TOM: Maybe even selling Chevrolets door to door! > As she looked to the sky, slowly turning to dawn, she >could spot the star that had once been her true home, having travelled >seventy-five years from the last point she had last seen it on the >celestial dome. CROW: You mean the sky? MIKE: Let's not jump to conclusions. > Five Redhawks forced across the sky. >CHAPTER XI- ALL: Yaaah! > Three billion years ago and it was still the same. ALL: [singing] Same as it ever was! Same as it ever was... > You can't win a war nobody wants. TOM: Unfortunately, you _can_ read a _fanfic_ nobody wants. >-argument presented by Commander Wetherall in her memoirs, circa ET >2208 (ASG) CROW: alt.sex.gerbils? MIKE: Ix-nay, Crow. > I had often sat and talked with Eve, on those rare months she >decided to join us. TOM: [sarcastic] Oh, has the great _Eve_ decided to join us today? > She elaborated on many opinions, but not facts. CROW: She had been watching the Rush Limbaugh show. >She was built on emotions, and probably feels more than any of us." TOM: What? Where are we? Who's talking? > For that reason, I knew that song was our best communication tool. MIKE: I can't help but think that if we'd picked an artist other than Michael Bolton, the aliens wouldn't have proceeded to sterilize the Earth. Oh well, live and learn. >-excerpted Yoshiko's Deguchi's A Look Back at Hackensack: the Life of >the Fifth Generation Idol Singer heading, Chapter VI, pg 78. >Published ET Mar 12, 2198 (ASG) > >* * * > >The Targus Nebulae, four lightyears CROW: One-third the calories of a regular year! > from the Rubian Stretch >October 4, 2192 MIKE: Dear Diary, >THE STARSHIP FARRAGUT WOULD SPEND THE NEXT FIVE MONTHS CROW: No need to shout! We can hear you! BELLDANDY: [muttering] Unfortunately. CROW: _What_ was that? BELLDANDY: Er, I didn't say anything. > docked, being refitted, retrofitted, and stocked for the Fallsburg Task Force. >Superdimensional Starforce Orion. TOM: [sibilantly] Star Force... _devils._ > Of the major points in >Robotechnology's past, the Macross Epic was the most remembered. TOM: Okay, buckle in everyone, exposition's starting again. ALL: [groan] >Already, history lessons had spawned legends of Admiral Gloval and >Lisa Hayes, Commander Hunter and Max and Miriya Sterling. CROW: Legends of Robotech stories that were actually good! > Somewhere, they existed, either as memories... > ...or they were still alive. > One of the great questions about the Severed Galaxy MIKE and 'BOTS: Ouch. BELLDANDY: What? > was the effects on time. Already, since Listening Post #89's startling discovery, CROW: [as scientist] Stuffing _instead_ of potatoes? I don't believe it! >scientists who had observed the Gamma Quadrant with transluminal and >superluminal vehicles had solidified ALL: Ewww! > their beliefs that Tirol was running on a different time continuum. TOM: [as Groucho Marx] Either this galaxy is running on a different time continuum, or my watch has stopped! > It was as if the Galaxy had >planted one foot in reality and the other in another dimension. MIKE: Y'know, once when I was 11 my folks took me to that place where you can stand with one foot in Arizona and the other in New Mexico. It was pretty neat. CROW: That's great, Mike. > If the arms of the Galaxy surrounding the Southern Cross were indeed time- >differential from Earth, the real nightmare lay in deciding which side >was actually running on real-time. MIKE: Marooned in Realtime. TOM: Yeah, it'll be a warm day in space before the Mads ever send _that_ to us. > To many, that was a fascinating trivia of science and metaphysics. CROW: [peevishly] To whom? Name one. > To Cadet Sergeant Maria Tomas, Ganymede Defense Academy Point >Delta, metaphysics was a waste of bandwidth. BELLDANDY: [shaking a bit] So he described all that stuff about the Severed Galaxy just so he could tell us it was completely _irrelevant_?! > She was a computer-freak, TOM: A superfreak! The kind you can't take home to Mother... > but even more of a pilot. Points, heralding the title from the >famous North American military institution and later base of several >VT squadrons during the War of Unification: West Point, trained hard- >core ALL: Saaayyy... > pilots, ALL: Oh. > a training section under the Alpha Armored Corps and the >Southern Cross Calvary. Maria Tomas was the only member of the >Robotech Defense Force present onboard this ship. TOM: [falsetto] Okay, I'd better call roll. Well, I'm here... All done! > The design of the Horizont had become a popular model in shuttle >design that led to SFSS-51300 Cumberant series, CROW: Cucumber? MIKE: Cummerbund? BELLDANDY: [firmly] Cumbrous. Like this story! > Palgarant subclass,SDF-13 Capital class. Though the more advanced series, like the >Celebrant, were more apt to such conditions as nebulaic navigation, >the Cumberant still predominated in light-cruiser deployment capability. TOM: See, they worked it so one component is made in every congressman's district... > The cadet squadron, Blue, was a subsection of the Nightmare >Squadron, which ran most of the training sessions on Ganymede Point. >The Cumberant carried a wide variety of Alpha's, Beta's, and Valkyrie >contigents. CROW: I can't think of anything to say. I'm numb. MIKE: This reads like a Tom Clancy novelization of the instructions for filling out a 1040 form. > However, the primary mecha these cadets were being trained in were eclectic. TOM: Eclectic Avenue! > The VAF-4SD nontransformable VT had been >the prototype for the Alpha's compact fighter mode. BELLDANDY: On the outside it's just a mini. But on the inside it's a completely different animal! > Currently, most >understudents handled these non-mecha fighters. However, the non- >Protoculture Robotech mecha Maria TOM: [Brit accent] To whom we are, by degrees, returning... > had received was one of the most strangest produced. MIKE: Insert grammar flame here. > The Veritech /CF system pays homage to the infamous Logan fighter >before the departure of the Robotech Expeditionary Fleet. It wasn't >until the Pluto Veritech Fleet had been inaugerated for the last >resort TOM: The Pluto-Charon Rotating Restaurant, Hotel and Casino. BELLDANDY: Huh? TOM: It's the last resort! ALL: [groan] > incase the Saturn Wing's Neutron S offensive failed, during the >Second Invid War, that the V/CF system began mass construction. Now, >only two series of these Veritech Gamma Fighters existed, the Tazania >and the Tazmanian. MIKE: Take careful notes, everyone, because this _will_ be on the test. > The V/CF-7 Tazmanian had always been the specialty of the Cadet >Tomas. TOM: No, not _the_ Cadet Tomas, _a_ Cadet Tomas -- didn't you hear I come in six packs? > Since her enlistment and eventual transfer to Ganymede in the >Robotech Defense Force, she had trained hard with Valkyrie like >ecletic VT. It was her home and her life, except for... CROW: Ellipses provided by Cheryl "Double Vision" Davis. > "Well, I'll be stationed on Rubia for the next three months at >least, and I hear that you'll be off by Febuary, right?" MIKE: All right! The story's starting at last. Here we go! > The magic of >intersteller hypercommunications allowed for realtime discussion using >Sekiton powered relays, BELLDANDY: [hopelessly] Oh, no! CROW: *sigh* TOM: I bet Presley H. Cannady can't drive a stick-shift, either. > obviously controlled by Karbarran communication industries. ALL: Oh, _obviously_. > Calls were much more inexpensive, >especially that she and her fiancee, Ramon Vega, were CROW: Scheduled to fight Chun Li and Ryu. > within the same local group, separated only by four lightyears. Near the Rubian BELLDANDY: Crossing the Rubian? MIKE: Er... >system, the RSS Divana had taken route, and Cadet Major and senior >"Brazil" Vega could TOM: ...at _last_ hunt down and arrest that annoying Harry Tuttle. > finish his last term and start his first assignment >onboard that very vessel. It was Maria's hope to be stationed aboard >as well, and their marriage would all but solidify that. > "Where should we meet, Brazil?" MIKE: [chuckling] Ha, ha! But I kid people with geographically-inspired nicknames. > "We were on Earth two months ago, and I haven't been to see my >family in a year. TOM: [falsetto] Oh, it's always you, you, you! What about _my_ needs? > How about New Kazahk?" > Maria wrinkled her nose, but nodded anyway. "Sounds great," she >said semi-heartedly. MIKE: That's kind of a neat word... "semi-heartedly." CROW: Hey, check this out, guys. [loudly, to the screen] Presley, tell me about "New Kazahk." > New Kazahk was most definitely the last on the >tourist attraction of the Confederation-Kellar alliance. A few >spaceports, not to far from Centaurus, it had become one of the major >crime areas of the alliance. BELLDANDY: Wow! TOM: How'd you do that, Crow? CROW: Ain't tellin'. > She had grown up on Mars, and had >attended the Ganymede Academy for only two months when she met the >roughneck junior that would become her betrothed. "So I'll meet you >there. CROW: [falsetto] I've always wanted to visit a crime-ridden slum! > I really need to meet your parents." TOM: Hmm, I've never heard _that_ euphemism before... MIKE: _Tom_! > "From what they've seen of you, I think that should be no problem. >Gotta go, honey," he kissed his finger, and placed against the vid- >screen. Maria did the same. CROW: This is just like "Space: Above and Beyond," except maybe a little better. > The line cut, replaced by the computer-generated symbol of Arnno- >Karbarran Sekiton Communications. TOM: We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company! >* * * > >Earth Orbit, Trojan Lagrange Point Gamma >October 5, 2173 CROW: [Brit accent] Captain's log. >Space Station New Frontier, the oldest permanent space platform in >Terran history, was a landmark in some respects. TOM: AAARGH! STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT! CROW: [getting mad] Hey, "Captain Exposition..." MIKE: Ease up, Crow. > Having survived three Robotech Wars due to its lack of any militry, scientific, or >strategical battle, it was one of the few relics that told of a time >before the great wars. > Yet it still held scars. MIKE: _Cars_? Why is there a parking lot way out in -- TOM: _Scars_, Mike. MIKE: Oh. > The communications facility, owned jointly by Tellenet and Arnno- >Karbarran Sekiton Communications had long been the chief headquarters >of both industries. BELLDANDY: [lecturing] See what happens when you use up all your commas in the beginning of the fanfic? You don't have any left for the end. > Having been rebuilt to the size the great Space >Station Liberty one held, it now included such commidities as >artificial gravity... ALL: Yes? > ... ALL: YES?! >and a conference room. ALL: Oh. MIKE: That's not much of a payoff. > "Three-billion yen, Nikkei present value," CROW: All right! I'll give you _anything_! Just, please, end this story! > if anything could be >said about a Tellenet emplyee, they were the greatest hackers alive. >Dr. Arbatan Dul was CROW: Named after this fanfic! > Zentraedi and Calopean on his mother's side, and >Centauran on his father. MIKE: It must be hell trying to run Affirmative Action programs in the future. > His counterpart, a four-hundred pound Karbarran ALL: Karrrrrrr-BARRRRRRan. > faced a most unlikely customer. Usually, the Karbarran, >Ssol, was not present. However, Arbatan's usual attachee, a cetaceous >mammal named Har'br!ns, was taken ill, CROW: [Brit accent] You're the cetaceous mammal named Har'br!ns? TOM: [Chinese accent] Ah, no. He died. He have heart attack and fall out of window onto exploding bomb, where he was killed in shooting accident. > and placed in the emergency >water-traction section of Earthdock's xenobiological medical wing. In >Har'br!ns' place, was Ssol, CROW: [snootily] Ah, Mr. Loss, you're here at last. Take a seat and a memo, would you? > low-ranking and a boisterous members of AK TOM: It is not a statue of the god Ptrrrrrp! It is the god Ak! >Communications Limited. "Including transaction receipts, and unvalued >erasing disks." MIKE: We now join this conversation, already in progress. > The disks had already been used. Old 3'5's, BELLDANDY: Three foot five inch disks?! TOM: They also get paid in the giant stone coins of the Yap Islanders. > they had contained a >small one-purpose virus. Every record of the transaction through the >Nikkei Galatic Monetary Net had been erased, replaced with legal >information backed up with more tainted cash. TOM: ...thus defeating the purpose of erasing the tainted transactions. MIKE: Oh, great, it's just the 23rd-century version of MAKE.MONEY.FAST. > Cash retrieved from sources unknown. MIKE: Y'know, that conspiracy guy in the short _said_ to watch out for the cashless society of the future. I guess he was right after all. > The human that stood before him accepted the money, and placed a >small box on the desk. CROW: [evilly] A gift for you, Ambassador... from friends you didn't know you had. > It was a bulkier version of the civilian datapad, TOM: Hey, is that a bulkier version of a civilian datapad or are you just happy to see me? > but strangely enough, it came equipped with a... MIKE: [holds Crow's beak closed] > "Pocket synthesizer," the human spoke. "You'll have enough ca'poa >to supply three-fifths of the Confederation and have plenty left >over." TOM: [peevishly] There's enough ca'poa in this _fanfic_ to supply three-fifths of the Confederation... CROW: [Brit accent] There's just one problem with this scheme. MIKE: [same] What's that? CROW: We're not doing anything illegal! >* * * CROW: [pained] Oh, _now_ what? BELLDANDY: [starting to break down] I don't think I can take another scene... > >-- CROW: Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I sense a .signature coming up! TOM: Yes! Our long national nightmare is over! MIKE: But are we at a logical stopping point? CROW: Who _cares_?!! >Gasoculture________________Nemesis of the New York State Freeway CROW: And we have .signature! Yeah! BELLDANDY: So we survived the fanfic after all! I guess it wasn't quite as bad as I thought. MIKE: That's the spirit! BELLDANDY: But I never would have made it without you three! MIKE and BOTS: Awwww. [They all hug. Yes, it is disgustingly cute.] >Presley H. Cannady | Author of the Robotech >76725.1246@compuserve.com | New Era Sagas and Ravenworld [All sit there, stunned.] MIKE: What? _Sagas_? There's more than _one_?! BELLDANDY: [wailing] Nooooo! [She breaks down in tears.] CROW: Let's get out of here before the next one starts! [All exit, hurriedly.] >________________________________________________________________ > ...6...5...4...3...2...1...*... [SOL Bridge. The mood is, to put it slightly, low. Belldandy is weeping openly as Mike tries to comfort her. The bots are wandering back and forth angrily.] CROW: Let me make a correction. I _used_ to like Robotech. Now... MIKE: Now? CROW: Now I hate it with the white-hot intensity of a thousand _suns_!! Curse you, Presley H. Cannady, for crushing a young 'bot's dreams! Curse you! TOM: [furiously] Did you notice that we got sent Act 1, Book 2, Episode 5, Chapter 10? There must be hundreds, if not THOUSANDS of chapters of this thing out there! You want a look at the future of fanfic? Think of a boot stomping on a 'bot's face, FOREVER! BELLDANDY: Mike... MIKE: Yes, Belldandy? BELLDANDY: I don't think I can stay any longer. Especially not if Dr. Forrester ships another piece of the New Era Sagas up here. I'm really sorry, but -- MIKE: [holding up a hand to forestall her] Belldandy, I don't blame you for a second. Okay. Um... I, Mike Nelson of Happy Temps, hereby release the goddess Belldandy from her contract. How's that? BELLDANDY: [smiling tearfully] Thank you, Mike. [She leans over and kisses him on the cheek, momentarily stunning him. She then heads over to the mirror.] CROW: Er, well... bye! TOM: Don't be a stranger, Bell! BELLDANDY: Goodbye! And good luck! You'll all return to Earth someday; it is fated! [She steps back into the mirror and vanishes.] TOM: I don't know about you guys, but from now on I'm going to feel reeeeeal nervous about getting dressed in front of a mirror. CROW: Who cares? She said we're going to go to Earth after all! Yes! TOM: Relax, Crow. Maybe she meant the satellite's orbit will decay and we'll plunge groundward and explode like an atom bomb upon impact. CROW: Oh. Well, that'll be cool too. MIKE: [suddenly snapping out of his trance] You know, it's too bad Belldandy had to leave, and we didn't get to wish for the satellite to go back home... [Mike sits on a convenient stool, picking up a microphone that happened to be sitting on the table. The lights dim except for one spotlight shining on him. Cambot starts a slow zoom in.] MIKE: ...But I still feel almost immeasurably enriched by this whole experience. [pointing with the microphone at Cambot] What do _you_, the mad scientist at home, think? [Cut to Deep 13. Dr. F is watching a TV screen in the back of the lab with great interest. After a few moments he realizes he's on and turns guiltily, leaning over to obscure our view of the screen.] FORRESTER: Oh! It's you, Tenchi. Ah, heh heh, I wasn't, ahem, really paying attention. [waving a videotape mailer addressed in Japanese] I was in the middle of enjoying your "divine" suffering, when I received this, eheh, rather _fascinating_ videotape in the mail. No return address, curiously enough... [Unnoticed behind him something weird is happening! Brilliant light spews out of the TV screen and someone is climbing out of it -- a tall, seductive, dark- skinned and silvery-haired Goddess in a slinky blue dress. She sidles up behind Dr. F and taps him on the shoulder.] URD: Oh, Clayton. [Dr. F spins around and sees her.] FORRESTER: _What_? Who -- URD: I just have one thing to ask of you. FORRESTER: Er... yes? URD: [furiously] How could you make my little sister cry!! [Urd starts creating a ball of energy with her hands.] FORRESTER: Oh, dear. URD: Push the button, Clayton. [As she advances on Dr. F he backs up slowly, reaches around behind him, and pushes The Button.] \ | / \|/ --o-- /|\ / | \ pschht! FORRESTER: YAAAAAAAHH!!! ----- CREDITS: MSTing by Mark Sachs a.k.a. sleet@netaxs.com Belldandy and Urd appear originally in Oh My Goddess! (aka Aa! Megami-sama), translated into English by AnimEigo and available in video stores everywhere. If you want to see more of them I strongly urge you to go out and watch this show. It's keen. No harm is meant towards Presley H. Cannady, and I sincerely apologize for making fun of his name -- he must have endured hell in grade school for it. Mystery Science Theater 3000 is a copyright of Best Brains. I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy! > Although this sounds vague --- it is vague --- I rather suspect that this >last provision will turn out to be the most devastating of all, because in >the end intelligence is the most crucial part of the battle.