Mystery Science Theater 3000 "Lost Soldier" [Season 6 opening.] [...1...2...3...4...5...6...] [A plush burgundy curtain is swept by some unseen hand across the SOL bridge doors as they close; as Cambot finishes pulling back, ornate standing lamps become visible in the corners. A silver "dinging" bell and an old-fashioned ledger are set up on the desk.] MAGIC VOICE: We invite you to experience hospitality above anything else... [Mike enters; he wears a burgundy vest with name tag over a shirt and red tie.] MIKE: Try the S.O.L. Orbital Hotel! [Crow sticks his head in from the side.] CROW: Hey, that rhymes! [Mike glances quickly at Crow, who disappears. Tom enters from the other side, wearing the same kind of vest with name tag as Mike.] TOM: Unlike certain establishments, we offer easy terms and low, low prices. In fact, we don't care how many experiments you wreck! MIKE: That wasn't in the script... [Gypsy enters, with a red bow similar to Mike's tie tied around her tube just under her head.] GYPSY: And all in a friendly, courteous atmosphere. TOM: You're paying enough for it! [Now, Mike tries to unobtrusively hush Tom by waving at him. Gypsy continues.] GYPSY: Plus fine cuisine! [Now, Crow bustles in, again in a burgundy vest and carrying a large covered silver tray. Mike sweeps off the cover of the tray to reveal two white-bread sandwiches.] CROW: Smooth *and* crunchy! MIKE: Plus, the piece de resistance... [He sweeps back the curtain to reveal the bridge doors.] MIKE: Live entertainment, weekly! ALL: It's out of this world--join us, won't you? [The commercial light flashes.] MIKE: But right after this. [He reaches over and hits the commercial light.] [commercials] [SOL bridge. Everyone is back to normal, with one of the standing lamps still in the corner. Crow holds one of the sandwiches, and has taken a bite out of it.] CROW: I've gotta admit it, Mike--you certainly agreed to Doctor Forrester's latest plan quickly enough. TOM: And why not? Here we are, opening the high frontier to the common billionaire. I can hardly wait to welcome the first of them on board, as they leave their capsules designed to return to the Earth... [The mads' light begins flashing. Mike hits the light and casts a nervous glance at Tom.] MIKE: Easy, Tom. Let's not blow it now that Statler and Waldorf are calling... [Deep 13. Dr. Forrester smirks at the camera. TV's Frank can be seen in the background, piling up folded linen.] DR. F: Greetings, Tito, Usachev, Helms, and Voss! I suspected you would let your true intentions sneak through sooner or later, but that's all right with me--I haven't sent out the ads yet. [SOL. Everyone is glaring at Tom.] TOM: What? I didn't *say* a word about *taking* their capsules designed to return to the Earth... [Deep 13. Dr. Forrester appears unaffected by Tom's apparent confession.] DR. F: This was never about gratifying anyone else's wishes *or* whims, you Spams-in-a-can--it was about us taking the money and running while you dispense surly service and strange smells! [SOL] TOM: Now *that's* too much! GYPSY: What? It's not fair! CROW: If that's the problem, we *won't* make Mike bathe! [Mike winces.] [Deep 13] DR. F: No, no, don't try to argue your way out of it now. Let's just put this sordid affair behind us and get our lives back on track. Now, then--your experiment this week is a peculiar reinterpretation of that little-known anime-esque cartoon from the mid-80s--Robotech. Defend your sanity against its cavalcade of whimsy at your own peril! Send them the fanfic, Frank. FRANK: [visibly hurt, holding up a dish of candy] But what about my individually wrapped pillow mints? DR. F: [snatching the bowl away] Just give it here! [to the camera] And I want you to think of just one thing--deep hurting! [SOL. Lights, sirens, mayhem.] ALL: *We've got fanfic sign!* [...6...5...4...3...2...1...] [Mike leads Crow into the theatre and puts Tom in his seat.] MIKE: And I was sure that would have worked, too. Well, never mind-- *we'll* think of the next escape plan. TOM: Um, let's just take it one thing at a time. > "Lost Soldier: a story of Karl Riber" > CROW: Collect them all! MIKE: The ones that aren't lost, that is. > Written by J.R. Posadas > > Author's notes: I do not own Robotech. > MIKE: Short and to the point. TOM: The question of who *does* own Robotech must remain one for the ages. > > > Hi, my name is Karl Riber. ALL: Hi, Karl! > I'm a marine of the 1st Dragon Borg CROW: They assimilated Pern? That's horrible! > squadron "The Dragon Fire" MIKE: He considers himself lucky to have stayed out of the 794th Dragon Borg squadron, "The Dragon Scale Mites." > and I wasn't suppose to be here right now, > in fact I didn't belong in this universe, TOM: Do I detect a whisper of self-esteem issues? > but chance has brought me > from one war to a more hellish conflict CROW: He knew he should have just stayed with "Wolfenstein," but no, he downloaded "Doom," and now he's hooked! > that involved with the > survival of the entire species... no, the entire galaxy. MIKE: Galaxy. Definitely galaxy. Yeah, that sounds better. > It was about > twenty years ago when I became involved in this conflict. TOM: Coincidentally, that was also about when Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play. CROW: Coincidence? I don't think so! > In my > original universe it was the year 2003 CROW: Hey, so then-- > and the Sara Base was under > attack CROW: Well, I-- > and all the shuttles were ether gone or destroyed CROW: But you-- > and I knew > that I would die CROW: I don't-- > and miraculously I survived, but that's when my luck > turned sour. MIKE: ...Wait, before or after the miracle? CROW: Well, given his very generous insurance policy... > When I awoke, I found myself surrounded by grotesque > creatures in which later I would find out that they were called "War > Dogs". CROW: Very considerate of them to print their names inside their stomachs. TOM: He cried havoc, but they didn't slip. > They growled and hiss as they came closer towards me and > saliva dripped from their mandibles and I knew that I would be their > next prey. I was saved by a group of U.C.E. soldiers, TOM: Mortal peril to safety in 0.5 seconds. Impressive! > United Colonies > of Earth, and told me to come with them. I did and that decision > would put me in the bloodiest war I have ever heard of or since. CROW: Not that he's blaming himself or anything. > The > Global Civil War of my original universe seemed like a paradise > compared to the Crongus Wars. > TOM: But maybe he wouldn't have been so morbid if he'd only been able to keep his daily ration of milk and honey. > On their ship, they have retrieved data, which showed that I was > listed under the casualty list as K.I.A. MIKE: Leading to bureaucratic hijinks! TOM: [announcer] He thought the War Dogs were tough--but he hasn't tried to get his driver's license back! > Then I thought of my > fiancee, Lisa Hayes, she had beautiful brown hair and deep blue eyes. TOM: What, no mention of her sparkling personality? CROW: You can't tell me he didn't notice her flawless alabaster skin! > I asked them if I could go back to Earth so I can rejoin with her, > then the Crongus attacked TOM: Yeah, that hubris definitely risked being clobbered. CROW: If he'd only thought of asking to go back to pay his taxes, he might have avoided the whole tragedy. > and it seemed like space was stuffed with > Crongus fighters MIKE: Granted, three-quarters of them were behind other fighters and couldn't fire, but it still *looked* impressive. > and they had to escape and as I looked back at the > blue star which was actually Earth and thought of Lisa, I knew that I > would never see her again TOM: Blue light'll do that to you. Now, the cheerful *red* light of Mars would've left him in a much more positive mood. > as they warped into Hyperspace. I enlisted > to the Colonial Defense Force and I was involved in an unholy war CROW: Don't let *this* happen to you. Look for Jihad Brand conflicts! MIKE: As endorsed by Urban II and Joshua. > with a race that was extremely advanced in technology, vicious in > attack, unrelentless in combat and would never give up. CROW: And don't get him started on the Crongus! TOM: But what about their *good* qualities? CROW: Those *are* their good qualities. MIKE: Save for a cultured appreciation of the subtleties of fine wine. > The Crongus > are an energy race descended by vilosoraptor-like beast. TOM: Energy beings *and* raptor-derived. We might as well give up right now. > Their > technology was based on the biology of the animals on their > homeworld, Tycrolni, orbiting a huge gas planed named Vicolen. CROW: When this is over, I think I'll go to Vicolen's and order a side of Tycrolni. > In > fact, their technology is biological and it's in three levels; TOM: The level you feed, the level you milk, and the level you sweep up after. > Crystalline cells, Nervous cluster covered in an exoskeleton and > flesh that had little use for the survival of the ship, MIKE: Thinking has no use for survival? With a species that morbid, who's worrying? > and machines > that are almost different living organisms. > > For two decades, I fought an endless battle against all odds CROW: But hey, the gold watch he got at the end of those twenty years made it all worthwhile. > and > faced many dangers in a war where the least of your problems was > being shot down in an explosion where death was quick. TOM: Yeah. Being late for dinner leaves you hungry for five full minutes! > In this war, > the enemy wants you to suffer and suffer we did. CROW: But those sufferings were compassionately recorded by their war historian, Dr. Seuss. > The minimal length > for a wounded man in an infirmary was three days MIKE: [British] Three shalt be the number... > because the Crongus > can inflict heavy damage to your body by ripping a huge chunk of your > body and let you bleed to death in agony. CROW: Okay, so a Crongus never slips up and just scratches somebody? TOM: If that happens, *it* dies of embarrassment. > You should consider > yourself lucky if you died in an explosion TOM: I mean, have you tried shopping for caskets on a soldier's salary? > and the only easy day is > yesterday. MIKE: After all, back then love was such an easy game to play. > I did see Lisa for one time a month ago CROW: Hey, I thought he'd made a big deal that he'd never see her again! TOM: Nice of him to peg his fallibility right off the bat, though. > and I remember it > like it was yesterday. MIKE: As opposed to, say, a month ago. > We were out on recon in a parallel universe > because we followed the Crongus through a dimensional rift and they > plan to invade this universe as usual. CROW: [sadly] I remember the good old days, when aliens took pleasure in their diabolical plans... What do we get nowadays? Routine! > My Commanding Officer, Captain > Minmei Lynn, TOM: All right, we're officially in a mirror universe here. CROW: What with the names reversed and all. > gave me orders to check a bleep in the scanning grid and > return as soon as I found out. MIKE: It was tough to tell the bleep from the boops, blips, and beeps, but he eventually found out the grid had a Space Invaders game on it. > As with every action it was easier > than it said because as soon as I left the hangar, several Crongus > Biofighters appeared and attacked CROW: Yes, that *would* make the mission easier than you said. > and I was being chased right > towards an unregistered, plus unknown, ship TOM: Never seen it before? No problem. Not in the database? You'd better start to worry. > and several cloaked > breaching pods came towards the ship. I knew that they were cloaked > ships because around the rim of the cloaked ship, space and light was > distorted lightly. > CROW: Now if space and light weren't lightly distorted, he'd know they were using Waterford crystal breaching pods. > I came back to tell them of the discovery TOM: Huh? Wasn't he being chased by the Crongus? MIKE: They may be sadistically evil, but nothing's stopping them from being lazy too. > and soon a mission was > developed to infiltrate the unknown vessel with stealth and cloaking > equipment and stop the Crongus before they do any damage and leave > before anyone on the ship would suspect anything. > MIKE: It's nice of them to save the day without expecting anything in return. CROW: Yes, but if they gave themselves away, they'd just be asked back again. > "But Commander, why do we have to use stealth equipment if we don't > truly know if there is anyone on the ship?" CROW: Nine out of ten unidentified ships turn out to be empty. > I interrupted her and > will soon regret it. > > "We are just being safe TOM: And yet, he's still sorry. > and our objective is to stop the Crongus > without leaving anything of our presents and if you ever interrupt me > again, I swear you won't live to even think of regretting it! It that > understood Marine!" > MIKE: [Karl] I'm sensing hostility here, Lynn. That wasn't my intention. > "Y-yes Ma'am." I said and then we went to our fighters TOM: The miracle acrylic bubble locks his hysterical sobs away. > and went to > the unknown ship that I will latter recognize as the STF-1. As I > recall, Miss Lynn wasn't always this hot headed. CROW: She used to have a chunk of ice strapped to her head. Unfortunately, the plume of steam became a little too noticeable. > Minmei was a clone > of a couple TOM: Sort of defeats the purpose of cloning somebody, doesn't it? > on a clonist planet in which they persecuted clones. She > enlisted because she wanted to belong MIKE: What? The stylish uniform didn't enter into her deliberations? > and then she met Rick Hunter, a > cocky new recruit raised on an agriculture farm on Earth. CROW: As opposed to Earth's other well-known farms--server, mink, and funny. > She fell in > love instantly and they were never apart TOM: No matter how much he complained about the stalker tailing him. > and were the best pilots in > the squadron until that fateful day during one of The Battles of > Sulfuria, Rick was heavily wounded and Minmei was utterly helpless to > help him MIKE: That's what happens when you run out of help. A real tragedy. > and a Crongus Fighter carried Rick off toward the Flagship > at the end of the battle. CROW: Getting the royal treatment, I see. TOM: It must be his new sulphurous good taste. > After the battle, the commander requested a > rescue mission to save Rick, but it was denied because the admiral > said that Hunter is dead already from either the wound or the Crongus > themselves, TOM: Who, after all, have a reputation to maintain. > plus it was a waste of resources and men to save just one > pilot when the entire galaxy was threatened. CROW: It sounds like he *wants* her to secretly arrange a daring, authority-tweaking, life-affirming rescue. MIKE: Unfortunately, those are reserved for main characters. > She was heart broken for > several years of his death and worst of all is that on the day that > he was wounded that Rick proposed to her. TOM: Yep, that's the tragic part. After all, it's really quite trivial to get over a mere boyfriend disappearing forever. > That incident drove her to > become the Minmei I know today. > MIKE: Staggeringly motivational. CROW: He could spin a profitable lecture tour out of that cautionary tale. > We infiltrated the ship as planned and we were separated into groups > of two in cloak suits to search the vessel. I was assigned to Heero > Kipuiolvio, CROW: And now it sounds like Karl's carrying Heero's luggage. > a guy from the Orient quadrant, and we searched the > central part of the midsection of the ship. MIKE: You're sure you're not cutting it too fine? TOM: [announcer] Riber and Kipuiolvio. They're kind of like cops. > There I found a city > inside of this ship and I knew that it would take longer to search a > city then a ship section. CROW: How incredibly inconvenient. TOM: Those cold brews with his name on them will have to wait a little longer... > We were scanning a busy street and were > almost crowded. I was using my scanner and had my hand next to my > pilot's gun when I accidentally tripped a young woman, which later > will find out that it was Lisa. TOM: Ah, foreshadowing! CROW: I'm already looking forward to the emotional scene where she accuses him of trying to jump her. > Heero and I went to an alley that led > to another street and then we both went cold and white MIKE: Okay, what have I told you about standing next to an open meat locker? > because we saw > this universe's Rick Hunter and we thought that we have seen a goast. > TOM: After the War Dogs and the Crongus, I'd think a haunted spaceship would be a delightful interlude. > A few minutes after that, we searched a restaurant and found flyers > of a young singer named Lynn-Minmei, this Minmei seemed nicer > compared to the Commander. CROW: Aw, no! Please don't tell me we'll have to face his disillusionment when he finds out about the trashed hotel rooms! MIKE: I'm sorry, Crow. We'll just have to deal with it. > I was suddenly bumped by a tall Russian > Man named Gloval and fell and my helmet popped off, resulting in the > deactivation of my cloak suit. TOM: It may be the world's shortest walk-on, but at least it's effective! > I thought that I was cooked when a > Crongus Soldier appeared in front of the restaurant and charged > toward me. MIKE: Especially after he remembered the meat locker was empty. > Heero shoved me out of the way and was ripped in two > chunks of squirming flesh. TOM: But thanks for playing. Why don't we show some of the fabulous prizes you've won... > The Crongus then ripped out his spine next > to his neck, rose it high above his head and roared an ear pearsing > roar and then headed for me. > CROW: Aw, isn't that sweet. He wants to be friendly! TOM: Yep--nothing breaks the ice like the gift of a friend's gory spine! > I thought I was dead until Minmei started firing energy pulses at it MIKE: Wait. Is that Lynn Minmei, the perky young singer, or Minmei Lynn, the screaming commanding officer? TOM: The world may never know. > and launched a rocket which sent it flying out the restaurant before > exploding in a flash of its own energy. > CROW: And if they work on it just a little more, they'll get it to stew in its own juices. > "Thanks Comm.." > > "We'll talk later." Minmei said as she dragged me out of that scene MIKE: Ah, they're using Shakespearean staging. > and into an air duct. > > After an hour of her lecture, she let me go out again because she > didn't feel like killing me at the moment. TOM: Letting *feelings* get in the way of her actions? Tch, tch, tch. > I went with her since she > insists in keeping an eye on me just in case I go into trouble. CROW: Come on, you should be happy she's promised to be the one who kills you! > It > just that trouble finds me and that's my luck, every time something > goes right something must go horribly wrong and I get blamed for it. TOM: That's a comfortingly robust philosophy. CROW: Well, what happens when something goes wrong first? MIKE: All that does is cut out the middleman. > Anyway we were scanning the same street that I was discovered on and > there were dozens of security guards, but fortunately there were > using primitive scanners CROW: So all he had to worry about was the mere trifle of coruscating X-rays flooding the street. > and that we were wearing the cloak suit and > my helmet was on tightly with a locking mechanism just to be safe and > that Minmei "insisted" that I wear the lock. > TOM: Just so long as that's all the hardware she "insists" he wear. > I was checking a store that was across from the restaurant MIKE: He'd never *seen* such bargains! > and then > an Attacker Biomech surprised me and ripped open my suit. TOM: What, it didn't rip his flesh too? Leave it to Karl to get the one apathetic Crongus... CROW: But still, when aliens carry off men and tear *their* clothes, we know we're in a postfeminist age. > Minmei, of > course saved me by launching a grenade at it, there by killing it MIKE: While he was standing next to it? TOM: Of course. > and > then the Crongus appeared along with five of their Qulan Warriors and > Vicoo Killers. TOM: In a puff of smoke. CROW: Polite applause ensued. > The Vicoo and Qulans are genetically created by the > Crongus to be back up warriors during a battle. MIKE: And back up singers during glee club rehearsals. > Qulans are forty foot > giants CROW: The perfect warriors to infiltrate cities in neutral starships! TOM: They'll never notice them, what with the shoddily attached power lines coming down all the time. > that either look like humans with scaled eyebrows, small horns > on their noses, tattooed on their faces and have eater butterfly > wings or bat wings MIKE: Bat wings? Why would they bother to make Qulans with bat wings when the butterfly wings are so obviously appropriate? > or Insectoids with four hind legs that are very > sharp, a scorpion like tail and a crescent head and silky but tough > wings CROW: Sturdy, ripstop nylon wings! > covered in scales, TOM: So basically, they look nothing like the other Qulans, but they're still Qulans. > although you won't see them because they are > wearing their War Armor, MIKE: Then shouldn't all that verbiage have been used to describe their armour? CROW: No, they use spray-on armour. > but are very aggressive. The Vicoo are like > demons from Hades with exoskeletons, claws and a relay aggressive > temper. > CROW: Nah, they're just annoyed at their relative paucity of description. > There was a firefight and Minmei called for back up and during the > battle, I was knocked unconscious by something so hard that I > couldn't remember. MIKE: Couldn't remember what? TOM: Exactly. > > Then I woke up in an infirmary and was wondering how did I get here CROW: Too bad he wasn't waking up from a long coma. There's always a crowd around *then* to explain things! MIKE: Wait... maybe he *was,* and the story daringly left him alone! > and suddenly found that they were using 20th century medical > equipment and wondered why they use this junk when they could use > nanoblobs and sonic scanners when I realized that I was not in the > infirmary of the U.C.E. but still abroad the STF-1. > MIKE: So he knew he was lucky. Instead of using their new-fangled sterile instruments, they could have just opened a vein to let the malignant humours out. > "Oh man, Minmei's gona kill me for this!" I said to myself and I > found a bandage on my left arm, when I lifted it I found blood on the > pad MIKE: Whoops, my mistake. TOM: I hadn't thought he was *that* melancholic. > and thought that they had taken blood from me but for what reason > and then my so-called "Lucky" dog tags were missing CROW: I guess things are finally starting to turn around for the ol' Karlster! > and then it hit > me. They were trying to identify me but why? TOM: Where he comes from, they heal charity cases and then put them back where they find them. > Then I saw the symbol of > the Robotech Defense Force and I knew that they think that I'm the > dead Karl Riber, TOM: Then he saw a light switch and knew they'd use two sponges for his bath that day. MIKE: Then he saw a spoon and forgot all about it. > well I could be the right Riber if I was in the same > universe where the U.C.E. found me but that's about a million to one. TOM: Isn't that all kind of academic anyway? CROW: His insurance policy may be generous, but it's specific. > Then a man in a suit caring a brief case walked down and sat by me > and I knew that they were going to question me about my disappearance. > MIKE: Either that, or he's going to be asked to contribute venture capital. > "Now then I would ask you a few questions and it would be easier if > you corporate." CROW: [interrogator] I get out of here in time for a nightcap, and you get out of here with all your fingernails. > The Interrogator said to me as he pulled out a few > papers. > > "What questions do you have in mind?" I said as I gulped in fear of > what I've heard of how they get answers from their captives. > TOM: He's gone from not recognising the ship to quaking at the powers of its intelligence staff. CROW: It was evidently a popular topic of conversation on the city streets. > "Well first of all I would like to know is how did you get here?" He > said to me as I looked at an oddly wide mirror as if it was looking > at me. > MIKE: After all, everyone needs a break from staring nervously at wall sockets. > "I'm sorry but I can't ans...." I said before I was ruddily > interrupted. > CROW: *gasp* Rudeness! The horror's coming true! > "You will answer the question." He said in a loud, deep voice. I > hesitated for a few moments and then I spilled the beans. > MIKE: And while the interrogator was slipping on them, he made his getaway! > "I was brought here on my Dragon Borg fighter with the rest of my > squadron TOM: His *cloaked* squadron... MIKE: Of course. If they go after them, they might leave him alone. > to find the enemy called the Crongus who recently came on to > the STF-1 but I didn't know that it was the STF-1 CROW: Obviously, he never would have bothered to stop the Crongus had he known what ship they were on. > until I came board > and then I was attacked by an enemy soldier and then my Commander > saved my who's name was Minmei Lynn MIKE: Whoa, slow down, Karl! Don't let the interrogator ask you to repeat yourself and put in what you left out. > and then in an another attempt to > find them we were caught in a cross fire and I was knocked out cold > and then I ended up here." I spilled the beans very quickly I might > add. > TOM: And yes, Karl, we are very proud of you. > "OK now that answered most of my questions. MIKE: [interrogator] I'll make the back nine an hour early! > Now how did you survive > the attack on Base Sera in 2003?" The Interrogator said after he > placed his finger in his right ear. > CROW: Waxy yellow buildup can be the bane of any interrogation. > "I don't know but the first thing I remember was that I was > surrounded by biomechs called 'Wardogs' and I was saved by a group of > soldiers from a parallel universe and I had no choice but to go with > them because we were attacked TOM: Karl, you *could* have seen if the interrogator would have been happy with your first three words. > and the ship that I was on had only > enough power to make one jump an I had to enlist because I thought > I've never get back to the Earth I knew and so we went to their > universe and I've been battling them for twenty straight year and the > year there was 2382." > MIKE: And--breathe. CROW: If he passes out, maybe he'll escape the rest of the interrogation. > "Thank you for your corporation." > > "That's it, just two questions?" > MIKE: [interrogator] After the way you answered them, that's more than enough! > "Yes." > > "Then I can return to my squadron now?" > CROW: [interrogator] No, but you get a pat on the head and a lollipop. > "I'm very sorry MIKE: At least he's touched the interrogator's cold heart. > but we have to keep you in custody because we aren't > sure who your alignments are to." > CROW: Perhaps a touch of palm greasing might resolve that dilemma... > "But my alliance has always been Earth, and anyone who doesn't kill > me that I might add but I didn't mean that I would betray my home..." > TOM: So, to sum up: "Maybe! Yes! Maybe." > "I think that is enough for now." The Interrogator said as he walked > out of the door. > CROW: Poor Karl. He even drives interrogators away. > The next day I was in my new room some where in the brig, guarded by > four soldiers, MIKE: Dangerous character, what with his ruthless cooperation and all. > when someone I knew came to my cell. "Lisa?" I said as > she nodded her head "Lisa, I could explain...." > TOM: [Karl] Those books you lent me before I vanished were eaten by War Dogs! Honest! > "I already know, Karl, I already know." Lisa said in a soft voice. MIKE: [Lisa] The romance and adventure of your miraculous escape was covered quite adequately by the interrogator's report. > "So tell me, how has it been lately?" > > "I'm not sure where to begin?" > CROW: Man! The long-suppressed passion is just exploding off the page! > "How about your squadron leader, Minmei Lynn." > TOM: [Lisa] Her story's obviously more interesting than *yours.* > "Oh boy, how do I put this? She's a great fighter pilot and goes by > the book and..." I paused for a moment a then said. " She has a very > short temper and would almost kill a person on sight CROW: "Almost?" Then what's the problem? TOM: Yeah. It might get nearly endearing after a while. > if he disobeyed > any orders, annoys or makes her mad." I remember the times when I was > almost killed from Commander Minmei and that was one of many lucks > that I would gladly give away. > TOM: You know, I think Minmei would do well to give Karl a nice hug once in a while. MIKE: Um, wouldn't that kind of spoil her image? TOM: Of course not! Karl's so frazzled, the sudden change would just leave him *more* worried! > "She's darker than the Minmei I know of, MIKE: [Lisa] But then, I know that whole "death metal" thing is just a stage persona. > she sounds like she has a > hatred for someone." > TOM: [Karl] You don't have to be so subtle about it. I'm right in front of you. > "Try an entire species, CROW: [Lisa] Ah. So she's just a jerk. TOM: Hey! Do I indulge in reinterpreting characterisations? MIKE: Er... yes. TOM: Good point. Carry on. > one of their pilots killed a person she cared > about." > > "Her boyfriend?" > CROW: Now that's just shallow! People can care just as much about their personal trainers and mail carriers! > "Her future husband, the Crongus killed him on the day that Rrr.... > he proposed to her. MIKE: Sounds like he reached the pull-string on his back just in time. > Actually he was heavily wounded from an enemy > fighter and carried off toward one of the capitol ships and it is > assumed that he was already dead when he was taken aboard the ship." CROW: Plus, y'know, it was almost lunchtime. > Then I bowed my head like I was morning his death. > TOM: Fake sincerity. He's got it made! > "What was his name?" > > Lisa had to ask that one question about Minmei's past. CROW: She could have asked about her tastes in lunch, or her brand of lipstick, or her reading habits... > His name, she > just had to ask me of his name than I remembered that Minmei wasn't > around, MIKE: Okay, *why* does that solve *that* specific problem? TOM: Come on, Mike. Every unhealthy situation of dominance needs at least a couple of unexplained taboos to keep it interesting. > so I gulped and finally told her. > > "His name was.....Rick Hunter." > > "I know a pilot of the same name; he's in the Skull squadron on this > fortress." > TOM: Karl screws up his courage and defies Minmei for Lisa's sake; she says "That's nice." Yep, this relationship's building up steam! > "Sooo anything else you want to ask me about?" > > "I was wondering, and the rest of the staff, if you could tell me who > the Crongus are?" > CROW: [Karl] Um, *you* want to know, right? TOM: [Lisa] Just answer the question. > "I'm not sure that you relay want to know, ''cus the images I hav..." > > "Images? What Images Karl?" > MIKE: Can this man keep *any* secrets? TOM: He's managed to keep his personal life away from Lisa private so far... > "The one's on my wrist computer." I showed Lisa my wrist computer > that covered most of my lower arm CROW: I just hope the manufacturers weren't going in for truth in advertising, or else he's got one short arm. > which got stuck to my arm during > the Battle of A' Ramon. MIKE: Which just ruined his clean streamlined look. TOM: There you are, minding your own business, when WHAM! You've got another joint on a limb to worry about. > "But you really shouldn't...." Then she gave > me that look on her face. I just couldn't resist CROW: [Karl] Tee-hee, I'm a naughty scamp! > and so I activadet > the file on my computer and set it on hologram mode. "Remember, I did > warned you." > TOM: [announcer] And the shrew eats *everything*--skin, teeth, bones, *everything.* MIKE: Based on true events--like Dragnet, or the early X-Files... CROW: Or Monster a Go-Go! TOM: You're pleased with *that* similarity? CROW: Hey, it means it won't make any sense. MIKE: That's pretty much become a given. > "File #24578442. Species:Crongus. Biology:Silicon/Boron baced. Energy > Form that Breath Vulcanic and toxic gasses simmilar to early Earth > like Methane, Hydrogen, Sulfur, Sulfur dioxide, and Aumonia. CROW: So they're perfectly suited in more ways than one to fit into Los Angeles society. TOM: Isn't that kind of an easy joke? CROW: That's what makes it fun! > Reproduce Asectualy by spawning another Crongus in their abdomanol > cavaty. Technology: Bological machines that are in three levels. MIKE: Not asexual reproduction! Not the lists! She never dreamed it would be *this* horrible! > 1: > Crysalis Cells. 2: Cell and nerve layers protected by armor walls. 3: > Organism like machines. Use Electrolites found inside the body of > living beings to incubate and regenerate their machines. CROW: Then they enjoy a nice snack of hematite ore to build healthy bones and teeth. > Two > Geneticly created races called The Qulans and Vicoo." The Computer > showed the image of the Qulan Humanoid and Insectoid and then several > classes of the Vicoo. MIKE: Home Ec, Finite Math, and Remedial Reading. > Then It showed the ships of the Crongus. "Use > Wormholes, Nova loops, Transwarp and Hyper pools to travil through > space TOM: You know, most species are perfectly happy with one kind of FTL drive. MIKE: That's why the Crongus are so terrifying. They're overachievers. > and Dimentional Rifts to invade other universes to spread their > Empire. Their homeworld is in the system of Grel'viltaku on the moon > Tycrolni that orbits the planet of Vicolen. MIKE: It's protected by the fact that nobody can keep the names straight. TOM: And the good guys are on the "Earth," which goes around the "Sun." Where's the justice, I ask you? > Their System, along with > several star systems, were transported into our dimension by an > expirament with the Dimentional Generator. CROW: You mean the Crongus Wars could be the U.C.E.'s own fault? Wow, that's deep! TOM: Well, as deep as anything else in here. CROW: So forget about it then. Well, thanks. > Downloading known images > of news reports, actual documantation, U.C.E cameras and memory files > of pilots who have survive battles and encounters with the Crongus." TOM: Approximately three hundred hours remaining. > Then It showed horrific immages of humans screaming, the slashing of > soldgers, MIKE: So... horrific. TOM: Seems that way. > ripping intestines and organs, peoples' heads still > conected to their spines hanging from the walls, CROW: Nothing's more horrific than interior decorators at work. > planets being > destroyed, ships and fighters obliterated, several humans, mostly > girls, MIKE: Don't tell me they've got a bit of tentacle monster in them now! CROW: [nervous] That's an anime-esque thing to cling to... the same way we cling to the rock the storm breaks us against. > being drained of ther electrolites TOM: Good thing the U.C.E.'s ultra-advanced medical technology includes Gatorade. > by a tube with claws at the > end of it, Crongus soldgers marching and firing their guns, MIKE: It's minimally considerate of them to give us a breather before we hit the next circle down... > and a man > being autopsied while he is conciouse and a Crongus scientist pulles > out his still beating heart and cuts it open while the soldger is > still screaming in pain and horror. > TOM: Heart-lung machines: A *real* boon for sadists! > "Stop!!! Please, no more, stop the immages." > > I turned off the immage and faced her. "I did warned you about it." > CROW: [whiny] I *told* you so... > "That was horrible, what kind of species would do such things on > other life forms." > > "The Crongus." I told her. MIKE: Um, she kind of *knows* that already, Karl. > Then I turned to the back wall and then I > saw the same mirror that I saw in the infermary. > TOM: Ooh... awkward! MIKE: They would have sprung the big surprise on him quite cheerfully, but they wanted to hear his explanation too... > "What kind of stories do you want to tell me?" > > I turned around and then I began telling her my experiences while > battling the Crongus. TOM: Karl, hasn't your one-track mind already tormented her enough with how horrible the Crongus are? CROW: Ah, but now *he's* the one wreaking brutal vengeance. > It was several hours later, TOM: That's one of the more disturbing segues to use with a monologue. > "... and then this > sterio suddenly turns on and sterted playing that one song. What was > it. MIKE: Karl seems to have rambled on to funny things that happened at parties. > Oh yes I remember, 'tomorrow' sung on that Annie play. He went > mad and scraped that sterio. While he, well I wouldn't say he but, > while it was distracted, I attached a grenade on him and > KABLEWYY!!!!! CROW: You didn't say anything about him, but should you have said anything about *yourself?* TOM: Well, he *could* still be telling party anecdotes... > blown to smitherines and tossed me all the way across > the street." > > "That is strange, they realy hate music." > TOM: Don't jump to conclusions, Lisa. Maybe he was just upset at the sound balance. > "Yah but who could blaim it. That was an anoying song. I mean what > can be more anoying than that?" CROW: He *understood* his foe as he blew him to pieces... and in the end, isn't that a true sign of nobility? > Then my left robotic arm suddenly > stoped. MIKE: Wait, the arm with the bloody bandage on it? TOM: No wonder it stopped. That thin red machine oil isn't worth much. > I lifted a piece of skin and opened a lid on my upper arm and > removed three small batterie sized cells. "Three centuries and they > still use Batteries." > CROW: *Still* going... > Then my computer suddenly activeted. "The correct pronouncement is > Energy cells." > MIKE: ...I suspect Karl's computer doesn't have quite enough work to occupy its central processing unit. CROW: Wait, how *do* you pronounce "energy cell" as "battery?" > "Y-yah, whatever." > TOM: When you've just been slapped down by your own information appliance, what else is there to say? > "How did you lose your arm?" > > " It was about three years ago when a Crongus Warrior ripped it off. > The U.C.E. replaced it with a robotic one and trust me, It hurt like > heck." MIKE: Not just like blazes? I *am* sympathetic! > I had a flash back of that moment when that Crongus ripped it > out from the scocket. > CROW: But hey, it's only the first one in two months. He didn't even start screaming. He's on the mend! > "It must of been awfull." > > "Yeh, the Global Cival War was better than the one I was fighting in, > It was terrible. Planets exploding, stars being murdered, TOM: How curiously Stapledonian. CROW: And there were probably a few people inconvenienced by their stars going out, almost forgot them... > ships and > people being ripped apart and then there are nanotech plagues, > constant bombardment, MIKE: Laundry being returned a day late with too much starch... > bloody invasions...." Then there was a beeping > and then Lisa stood up. > CROW: At least she's got the excuse now to look into why her ultraviolence detector took so long before going off. > "I have to go somewere I'll see you later." Lisa said to me as she > left. TOM: Lisa, couldn't you at least try to sugar that bitter parting? MIKE: She *was* trying. > Then I turned to the mirror on the wall and looked at it oddly > as if someone was waching me. > > "Naw." > CROW: Ah, denial. It works for a while every time! > Later in the afternoon, Lisa released me under her custody and we > went to the park. TOM: Selflessly keeping Karl out in the open and away from things... she deserves a commendation! > She held my arm and then I daydreamed of when we > were like this a long time ago. Then my computer buzzed and then > Commander Minmei yelled. CROW: The two events are completely unrelated, of course, what with the hot-air balloon carrying her over the park. > "Where the heck are you Riber, you were > suppost to be with us!" > MIKE: Well, come on. It took *her* long enough to get around to calling him. CROW: Mike, she can do pretty much whatever she wants as far as I'm concerned. > "Sorry Ma'am, but I was captured and I was...." > > "That's a bad thing TOM: Minmei Lynn: The Anti-Martha Stewart. > marine because we already annihilated the Crongus > that were here MIKE: [Karl] Hey, that's not too bad for me... CROW: [Minmei] Think again, marine--get ready for a year of KP! > but they called for help to their invasion fleet and > they are now aproaching this ship. Were organising a counter > offencive and it's gona be a huge firefight so you better leave this > ship right now before the fireworks start. MIKE: You mean the picnic lunch Lisa packed for the Fourth is going to go to waste? That *is* harsh! > Minmei out." That message > almost made my skin cralled and soon we rushed to the bridge and told > Captin Gloval about the attack. > TOM: What, and ignore Minmei's advice? CROW: He's dealt with her for who knows how many years. It's time to try a nice relaxing Crongus onslaught! > "I'm not sure if I actualy believe you, what proof do you have that > there is an alien fleet heading twards us?" > MIKE: Gloval remembers the cautionary tale of "The Boy Who Cried Alien Fleet" just a little too well. > "How about turning to the screen and SEEING IT FOR YOURSELF!!!!!!!!" > I pointed twadard the view screen and when he turned aroung, the > screen was almost stuffed with Crongus Bioships and fighters. > CROW: The hilarity never ceases! TOM: It's funny, because he's clueless! > "Captin, the alien fleet are charging up their weapons and prepairing > to attack." a bridge crew member named Claudia Grant said. > TOM: Hey, cameo time! Get your scorecards ready. > "Launch all fight...." Gloval was about to say when I interupted him. > MIKE: Come on! If he was *about* to trail off partway through, you didn't need to interrupt him. > "Wait a minute captin, the Crongus fight very ferociously and with a > verocity that you can't even imagin in your darkest dreams. TOM: Well, yeah, but who doesn't these days? > Don't you > have an Energy shield or something?" > CROW: If you can't beat 'em, pull the blankets over your head. > "We have a pinpoint berrier which can be moved from one area of the > ship to another to deflect..." > > "That won't work, what about shields?" > TOM: [Gloval] Well excuse me, Mister Picky! > "We have a Barrier system that encloses the entire ship. We could use > that." Captin Gloval pressed an intercom system and began to speak. > "Dr. Lang, is the barrier working yet?" > CROW: Crossovers *do* have the uncanny ability to accelerate technological progress where required, after all. > "Were still having trouble with the Barrier but if you could give me a > moment..." > MIKE: See, they tested it around its generator first, but then they couldn't get to the generator to turn it off... > "Ok were screwed. Might as well say our prayers." I said with a grim > look in my eyes. > TOM: At least he's about to go out with style... or the amazing simulation thereof. > Then another bridge crew member called out. "Captin, the alien fleet > is attacking several Zentraedi crusers that just appeared from > Hyperspace!" > MIKE: The what? CROW: The Zentraedi. I think they were the original villains! TOM: Oh, please. If they're so great, why were the Crongus introduced? > "Magnify!" > > "Aye Aye captin." The bridge member named Kim Young magnified CROW: With a cameo like that, you'd naturally try to make it as big as possible. > and it > showed five Zentraedi Crusers under heavy fire and one of the > cruser's engine was blown apart and several Breeching pods and Qulan > Fighters entered the cruser and then the ship exploded from the > inside. MIKE: The Crongus are moving faster this time. TOM: Maybe they didn't get slowed down window shopping. > One of the surviving Cruser made a jump back into hyperspace > and vanished leaving the rest of the crusers TOM: So they're feeling bad that they left everyone else behind, but kind of good that they were the only ones to think of leaving. > to be captured or be > destroyed while firing weapons that seemed unefected by the shields > of the Bioships. > CROW: ...And so much for the Zentraedi. MIKE: The preceding scene was brought to you through contractual obligation. TOM: And they're already checking those contracts again. > "Karl, what are those other ships that are in that fleet?" Gloval > asked me. > TOM: With the blood lust of the aliens momentarily slaked, it's the perfect moment to talk about them. > "You mean the metalic ones, thoes are the alies of the Crongus. The > Zandrini, Tories, MIKE: So Tony Blair's on Karl's side? > Lalouk, Tl'ams, Siblinghood of Set and the Quazar > Raidars." > TOM: From science fiction-esque to Saturday morning cartoons. The odds are *really* overwhelming! > "But you didn't mention these ships before?" > > "What? What do you mea? But how ... did you, I didn't. Huh?" CROW: Our hero, ladies and gentleman. TOM: Poor Karl. He tries so hard to be a fast-moving pulp hero, but that pesky thing called "thinking" keeps coming up. > Then the > U.C.E. fleet jumped from Hyperspace and began to attack the Crongus > Invasion fleet. CROW: Hey, nice to see the good guys popping up out of nowhere too. > There was a huge firefight and ships were blasted, > fighters ripped apart, Blood of bioships flew almost everywhere when > there was a direct hit, CROW: You know, I enjoy ketchup as much as the next guy. When it starts to blot out the flavour of my french-fried potatoes, though, it's gone a little too far. > explosions of fireballs, energy weapons and > missles streaking across the screen from one ship to another and on > my computer, the Fleet command needed to damage the Bio Factory MIKE: Karl, you can finish your Wing Commander game some other time. > and > then I had an idea. TOM: They really *are* pulling out all the stops for this battle! > "Where are your weapons control?" > > "Right over there." Gloval pointed to the end of the bridge. CROW: [Gloval] Right under the sign that says "Exit." Yes, we're peculiar that way. > "But why > do you want to know?" > TOM: No, Gloval. Reasons first, directions second. > "I have an idea. Scuze me. CROW: And evidently a very exciting idea, if he has to leave for a moment before saying what it is. > What's your most powerful weapon?" > MIKE: Love. TOM: Music. CROW: Cuteness. MIKE: No, wait--cheese dogs! > "The Main Reflex Cannon but ..." > > "Good. Computer, isolate Main Reflex Cannon control." > CROW: I mean, *every* starship has to have an all-powerful voice- activated computer, right? It's in the regulations *somewhere.* > "Acnoleged." > > "Fire a lazer bolt to the Biofactory and scann the blast for the > shields frequency." > MIKE: Isn't Karl presuming a bit much of the ship's computer, given the crew doesn't know what he's up to? TOM: It's a *computer,* Mike! It can do *anything!* > "Acnoleged." The STF-1 fired a single lazer and hit the shields of the > Biofactory. > CROW: Hooray! We got their attention! > "What do you intend to do Riber?" Lisa asked me. > > "Frequency Warfare. TOM: It's one terrifying step beyond the Hertz Donut. > The U.C.E. use this battle strategy to find the > fluctuation of the shields, match it and use eather a missle with > shields or an energy beam with the same fluctuation to penetrate the > shields and hit the ship itself. MIKE: But the shields of their *ship* don't work, and what makes him think he can make the beam "fluctuate?" CROW: Well, there's this loose wire at the back of the cannon... > Gloval, how long dose it take to > charge and fire the Cannon?" > TOM: [Gloval] Ten minutes. But don't worry--surely not even the *Crongus* will fire during stock footage! > "Only a few moments, but we have to do a countdown to evacuate anyone > within the area of the Cannon and transform the ship from Cruser mode > to..." > MIKE: Isn't that kind of like saying your car can go from fifty to sixty in ten seconds? > "Good, Transform the ship and aim for that point on the ship!" TOM: Play nice, Karl. Other people usually let *you* finish talking. CROW: [Gloval] Fine--*you* get to wind up the clockwork! > I > pointed at a connector joint near the central body of the Biofactory. > "And fire on my command." > MIKE: But he's not in charge of anything! TOM: At least poor Will's not in the sights again. > "Are you sure It would work?" Gloval asked me and look at me like I > wasn't suppost to do this. > MIKE: Can't see why. You can't even begin to count the battles won by pilots not even in the same service wandering onto bridges and giving orders. > "Damaging the Biofactory is the only way to cripple their fleet and > force them to retreat. CROW: [Karl] We'll take cruel advantage of their just-in-time ammo delivery system. > Besides it worked meny times before." TOM: The Crongus may be terrifying super warriors, but at least they never learn. > The > STF-1 began transformation and began to fire the Main Cannon. > MIKE: They do this sort of thing so often they've started spicing it up by seeing what finishes first. > "Fwequency analased. Now prepairing to mach." > > "Fire in three, two..." The Biofactory was in sight and no ships were > in the line of fire. > TOM: Hey--a fringe benefit for the end of the countdown! CROW: But it hardly seems worth it now... > "Fwequency mached." > > "Fire!!" > > The Cannon fired and blazed across the battle tward the Biofactory. MIKE: And everyone paused as that brilliant light reminded them, and not too late, of the potential for beauty in the universe. > The Beam penetrated the shield and made a direct hit on the > Biofactory. MIKE: Until the factory blew up, that is. > The Invasion fleet withdrawled and activated the wormhole > and then dissapeared. > TOM: Wow. They appear *and* they disappear without warning. > A few hours after that battle, Lisa and I were in her quarters having > dinner. > MIKE: After all, Karl's had some bad luck with restaurants in the immediate past. > "You should be proud of yourself today Karl. You saved the STF-1 from > being destroyed. Your a hero." Lisa said as she took a bite of her > salad. > CROW: Lisa's now so comfortable with Karl she can compliment him with her mouth full. > "Naw, I just did something that has been done so many times over. It > just hit me." > TOM: Yep, he's just an honest, average joe, who can remember standard operating procedure only when it's almost too late... actually, there *is* such a thing as too much modesty! > "Well you should be, nobody could even have thought of that kind of > warfare." > MIKE: Save for a few thousand Star Trek writers. > "It helps when most of your enemies have shields." > > "So now that you have won a battle, what are you going to do next?" > CROW: Boy. He saved the day, and she's already on his case to top it! > "Let me get back on that one Lisa, I have no idea what to do next." TOM: [Lisa] Well, there's your direct orders from your superior officer... CROW: [Lisa] Not that I'm trying to get rid of you or anything. > I > said as I cut off a piece of my steak. > MIKE: Finish your greens first, Karl, and then you can enjoy your steak. > "Um Ribber, are there any musician in that other dimention that are > realy popular?" > CROW: [Lisa] And can you hook me up with a cute one? > "Oh yah, plenty of pop stars. Theres the Rock group called Hyper > Spiral, nice name, TOM: At least he can think of *one* compliment. > and Galactic Rockers which are a hit to many > Furcult, Rappers like Heavy D Rap, not very original, Mike Dalson, CROW: Oh, and don't tell us you were confused with him at school, Mike. MIKE: I wasn't. He was a post office clerk. > Male Brat, don't ask, and group singers like Basmore, Zero-G, Maximum > Force, Holly Forge and there are individual singers like ...." > > "I was thinking about Idol singers." > CROW: Lisa seems inclined to humour Karl, but even her patience has limits. > "Idol what?" > > "Singers that are very popular to civilians and military personel." > MIKE: The guy who did "Ballad of the Green Berets?" > "I know one singer like that. Her name is Cellus Brown, very popular > and she would be an equivalent of the Lynn-Minmei here." TOM: Let me guess--she comes in six-packs? MIKE: Doesn't everything these days? > I showed her > a portrate of Cellus Brown fromm my wrist computer. CROW: One picture of a pretty girl, and ten thousand pictures of Crongus atrocities. Well, at least he's not *too* self-indulgent... > She was cacasian > looking like in her mid-20's with white hair, blue eyes and red lips. MIKE: She's frequently in demand for patriotic galas. > "Shes a real hit and I have a CD of her song." > TOM: [Karl] Then I can read you some love poems off my microfilm spools. Nothing but the most futuristic technology for you! > "Can you play it for me Ribber?" She looked at me with that look > again, so I played it. The song started with a sound like a chiming > zap MIKE: [wincing] He should really replace the CD when it gets scratched like that. TOM: He's not about to let them foist their soulless memory cards on him! > and then Cellus Brown started singing: > > I will always wait for you > > To return to me. > TOM: Yes, I really do have nothing better to do. > I miss the times that we were together > > When you leld me in your arms. > CROW: They say poetry is what gets left out in translation. MIKE: Well, given that she's in demand for *Russian* patriotic galas... > Even though you are far away > > I can fell that you are here. > CROW: Yeah, her favourite pillow is a definite match for his physique. > I can see the stars in your eyes > > And your eyes among the stars. > TOM: It's much nicer to look at than those empty sockets. > I will wait for you (Choir) Wait for you. > MIKE: Classy. Not like those cheap singers who use echo chambers. > We may be light years far apart (Choir) Far apart > > But our love keeps us close together (Choir) Close together > > And your love will always be within my heart. (Choir) Always within > my heart > CROW: Not even oat bran will scrub it out. > You are out amongst the stars > > Fighting with our love that we have made. > MIKE: Bristling with Cupid's painful shafts... TOM: Struggling hopelessly against biochemical reactions and societal pressures... > I hope that we will be together soon > > And that we will never be apart. > CROW: Aw! And here we hoped that five-minute meeting they pencilled in would be enough. > I will wait for you (Choir) Wait for you. > > We may be light years far apart (Choir) Far apart > CROW: What if they're just on different sides of a planet? TOM: If it's *that* trivial, they can find their own song. > But our love keeps us close together (Choir) Close together > > And your love will always be within my heart. (Choir) Always within > my heart > CROW: Which explains her poor circulation. > I remember the day that we first fell in love > > When you told me the true fellings you felt about me. > MIKE: The painful facts drove me straight back into denial. > I thought that we will be together > > and even now I still do. > TOM: I'm gullible, but hey, what are you going to do? > I will wait for you (Choir) Wait for you. > CROW: So consider yourself warned! > We may be light years far apart (Choir) Far apart > MIKE: But at least they aren't parsecs apart. *That* would be just tragic. > But our love keeps us close together (Choir) Close together > > And your love will always be within my heart. (Choir) Always within > my heart > TOM: Say... what about *his* heart? MIKE: She *does* get a little bashful about conducting inventories of that nature. > I will be waiting for you > > We may be light years far apart > > But our love keeps us close together > CROW: Hey, where's the choir? MIKE: Don't worry, Crow. The symphony orchestra's still playing. CROW: [tilts head] Oh, yeah. I shouldn't have worried. > I will wait for you (Choir) Wait for you. > > We may be light years far apart (Choir) Far apart > > But our love keeps us close together (Choir) Close together > TOM: Soldiers *always* have to have things repeated to them these days. > And your love will always be within my heart. (Choir) Always within > my heart > > And your love will always be in my heart. (Choir) Always within my > heart > CROW: So... His love will always be in her heart? MIKE: Let's not jump to conclusions. > Always be within my heart. (Choir) Always within my heart > > Your love will always be in my heart. (Choir) Always within my heart > TOM: Wait, what about her pancreas? Isn't it kind of left out? MIKE: I'm afraid it's pretty clear her heart's kind of selfish. > Your love will always be in my heart. (Choir) Always within my heart > CROW: How much longer are we going to have to listen to this song? > Always > CROW: Er, thanks. > > > I turned off the player and she looked at me with tears in her eyes > and then suddenly jumped into my arms, clinging to my shirt MIKE: Lisa recognises too late why she really needs a security blanket. > and > started crying. I held her head and gently patted her hair as she > continued to cry. I guess that love songs can hit a person like that. TOM: Yeah, Karl. You *guess.* > I would know because that song always reminded me of Lisa and I > always have unshead tears in my eyes. > CROW: Must make it tough to keep his contacts in... > The next morning I was in Lisa's quarters ALL: [whistle innocently] > since I don't actualy have > a place to stay yet and Lisa insisted that I stay for the night, MIKE: But why the threadbare excuse? CROW: He's probably just ashamed she gave him "that look" again. > plus > the U.C.E. fleet was in pursuit aftter the enemy fleet and won't be > back for a few days. TOM: Not to mention the turn-on of going AWOL. > Before Lisa went on duty, I told her that I'm > going to see the rest of the STF-1 and find something to do while I > was waiting for the fleet to return, not as if I was in a hurry. > CROW: It may have taken twenty years, but Karl's finally got his chance to be a gentleman of leisure. MIKE: [getting up] And so do we... [Mike picks up Tom and follows Crow out of the theatre.] [commercials] [SOL bridge. A projection screen has been set up in the opposite corner from the Hexfield Viewscreen, and an image of Karl Riber is projected on it. Crow stands near the screen in the dim light.] CROW: [announcer] This is the true tale of Karl Riber, a cautionary tale indeed. Karl thought that appearing in one episode of Robotech would mean only a lucrative career afterwards on the convention circuit--but he was wrong. Will *you* make the same mistake? [The image vanishes, the lights go up, and Cambot pulls back to reveal Mike, standing under the Hexfield Viewscreen.] MIKE: Well, as they say, it's better to have appeared and be rewritten than to never have appeared at all... [Tom enters. He constantly spins from side to side, waving around the flyswatter he carries in one hand.] MIKE: Now what are *you* up to? TOM: Isn't is obvious? Think back to the most important lesson of today's experiment... CROW: Some people will wait for years to be easily impressed? MIKE: Everything comes down to the frequency? CROW: There's always room for another list? TOM: No, no, no! Invisible aliens are everywhere! MIKE: Okay, Tom, I think it's about time-- TOM: They could be *right here!* At this very moment, the Zambonis, Whigs, Hambergs, F'reh'eds, Royal Order of the Moose, and the Scare Slurfs-- [Suddenly, Tom collides with something and bounces backwards. A moment later, a horde of plain grey sock puppets swarms through the bridge. Mike grabs hold of the edge of the Hexfield Viewscreen, Crow is knocked back against the screen, and the picture starts to bob as if Cambot is being shaken.] MIKE: Okay, Tom--I believe you! TOM: Er--thanks. So *now* what? [The lights and sirens go off.] TOM: Ask a silly question... MIKE: Gypsy! We could use some help here--because *we've got fanfic sign!* [Cambot finally breaks free of the horde and heads for the opening doors.] [...6...5...4...3...2...1...] [With Crow trailing close behind him, Mike staggers into the theatre. He drops Tom in his seat, then checks under his own before sitting down.] MIKE: Okay, no invisible aliens in here. TOM: Now *that* was curiously disturbing. CROW: I just hope Gypsy can hold the fort out there. > In the mainstreet of the city, I belive I think it was, TOM: You're sure about that now? > I bumped into > one of the pilots named Roy Folker. > > "Oh, excuse me sir." > MIKE: Karl shows a rare talent for colliding with people with names. > "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Roy asked me as if he had seen me > before. > > "Nope, not at the moment. TOM: But wait, what about Roy's curious deja vu? MIKE: It's enough that he knows him *now.* > But It's nice to meet you. My name is Karl > Riber. With a 'K" not a 'C'." > CROW: [Roy] Thanks so much for that. I'll be sure to get it right in my memoirs. > "Karl Ribber. It's great to see yah, everyone thought that you were > dead?" > > "I get that alot from people." TOM: And yet, he continues to rise above it. It's an inspiration to us all! > Roy took me to a hannar on the > Prometheus carrier and said that they have something of mine. MIKE: Talk about your unfortunate collisions. They could have *kept* it a secret if Roy had been quicker on his feet. > In the > carrier, I saw my Dragon Borg just sitting there and mechanics were > trying to figure out how this fighter works. "I don't think that you > sould-" CROW: [Karl] It's still got a month on its warranty, and I don't want it voided! > Then an energy serge sent the mechanics across the hannar. > TOM: I wonder what the turnover rate is in the U.C.E. maintenance division. > "What just happened?" Roy asked me. > > "Securety system. Keeps anyone from learning the secrets of the > Dragon Borg." > MIKE: You mean the amusing surprise value is entirely coincidental? > "That's what this this thing is called?" > CROW: Well, hey. When it's that well protected, they can call it whatever they like. > "Yah, the newist fighter of the U.C.E. It was desighned to fight the > capitol ships of the enemy fleet. It has about five attack modes; MIKE: "About" five? CROW: Maybe he hasn't learned all the secret codes yet. TOM: Or maybe the toy's got so many articulation points he's scared of breaking it. > Fighter, Walker, Robot, Cannon and Dual Fighter mode." > CROW: Your average Transformer only has two modes, and it's still more than meets the eye. TOM: But *they* never had to fight the Crongus. > "This is very interesting. So what do the fighters of the U.C.E. > power their machines with." > MIKE: You've gotta hand it to Roy--he won't let a little thing like hull plates charged with fifty thousand volts discourage him. > "The machines are powered by Cryonite shards for energy and > Hydrogen/Nitrogen combuston for thrust TOM: So they move using rockets stuffed with fertiliser? > but smaller machines like > fighters and bikes arn't large enough to hold a Cryonite Cell > Genterators and so use energy reserves stored in smaller energy > cells, CROW: The very same energy cells that keep Karl's artificial arm at peak readiness at all times! > the reactor of capitol ships are powered by a mixture of > plasma, Cryonite, and Ionic waves TOM: The three orders of waves. > charged with E.M.P. to power the > ships basic functions, weapons and shields." > MIKE: But with pilots as talkative as Karl, I can sort of see why the U.C.E. needs extreme measures to maintain secrecy. > "How about innerstelar travil?" > CROW: It's good that Karl's answering your questions, Roy, but you don't have to squeeze him dry all at once. > "Hyberspace warp. It uses a particle exelerator and a Hyperspace > > generator to create a hole through Hyperspace and change the ship > into particles lighter and faster that light to cut down the time." > TOM: You may end up as subatomic soup, but it's worth it to shave fifteen minutes off your journey! > "So what's a Hyperspace jump like on one of those ships." I showed > him an immage of a typical Sub-Hyperspace warp. Its starts up as a > portal opening up CROW: Accompanied by creaking hinges and maniacal laughter. > and then flashes of light come twards you. Then > streaks of starlight suddenly streaked and dissapeared MIKE: Wow. I'd expect them to streak, but to disappear too... > as a tunnle of > blue haze and light with a background of red and black space raced > across you CROW: Good ol' living projection screens. You never get tired of them! > as the tunnle twists and turns and finaly there were the > starstreaks and then the same lights fly by and the the ship appeares > like nothing happened. > TOM: Well, save that you've just been through hyperspace without it. > "It's more intence than it looks, and believe me it's INTENCE." Then > Rick Hunter came twards us. > > "Karl, this is-" > > " I know the name and the face, just not alive." > MIKE: That's a disturbing and ambiguous way to acknowledge someone. CROW: Well, he didn't collide with him. He's not quite sure how to go about it now. > "What do you mean 'not alive' Karl?" Roy and Rick asked me. > > "Well I rather not tell you and-" > TOM: [Karl] I've disturbed you far too much already. Now just try and forget about that cryptic, worrisome, nagging comment... > "Just tell us!" they yelled at me. > CROW: Not if they're going to be *difficult* about it. > "Well in the other universe, your dead." > > "What?!" they both said as if they didn't believe me. > MIKE: I mean, Rick *is* forever! > "Rick was captured while in battle with the other enemy, the Crongus > and was presumed dead." > TOM: Every time Karl tells this story, he leaves a little more out. CROW: It's not like Rick would be interested in all the details. > "Is there a Minmei in that other universe?" Rick asked me as > Lynn-Minmei came twards us unnoticed. > CROW: Come on! If he can't notice the one that's already there, he doesn't need another one. > "Well this, um Minmei, well she's a..... very strict women and a > viciouse fighter pilot." > MIKE: Wow. It just keeps getting better. > "How strict is she!?" Lynn-Minmei said as she poped next to my ear. > > "Yoww!!! Not so loud!" I said as I rubed my ear. Has that girl ever > heard of a thing called mannars, Yeash. > TOM: Look on the bright side. What with the demands of superstardom, you're sort of lucky she bothered to see you at all. > "So, how strict?" She asked again. > MIKE: It's always good when a young woman finds a role model. > "Let me put it this way, she's nothing like you." > CROW: Well, I don't know. They can both make him jump. > "So this Minmei is a hot headed, short tempered, strait with the book > fighter and a real sourpuss. Sourt of like Lisa Ha-" I punched him in > the nose with my robotic arm. > TOM: Chivalry is not dead! > "If you insult Lisa like that again and I promise that you will > regret it, you hear me?!" CROW: [Rick] ...Wait, if you *don't* promise I'll regret it, then... > Then my robotic arm fell off and my > artificial skin was just hanning and then Lynn Minmei just fainted. TOM: And all very matter-of-fact, of course. > "Oh great, this skin is going to take hours to repair." > > "Hey, that hurt!" Rick said as he cupped his red nose MIKE: Hey, I'm not blaming anyone for steering clear of "reindeer games" cracks. > and sounded as > if he was holding his nose. > > "We better get her to wake up." I said TOM: Artificial skin first, bloody nose second, unconscious girl third. Yep, they've got their priorities straight! > as I lifted out a small bottle > filled with a yellow goo from my chest pocket. > > "What is that thing you got?" Royk asked me about the bottle. > CROW: [Karl] It used to be mustard. > "You know those things that are used to wake someone by fumes." MIKE: Smelling salts? TOM: Do-it-yourself description! > they > nodded as I opened the bottle and wafed the vaper next to her nose. > Lynn Minmei cough as she woke up from the fumes of the bottle. > TOM: It's a robust, full-bodied aroma, suitable for clearing pipes. > "What happened?" She said to me and then she saw my arm hang from the > skin. "YAAAA!!!! What happened to your arm?!" She pointed to my arm. > MIKE: Just in case he's missed it himself, you understand. > "Sorry, it happens when it hits something." TOM: A brick wall, a pillow, a boyfriend's face... "something." > I detached the artificial > skin and reattached my robotic arm. My artificial skin sagged at the > armpit. "Man this looks nasty." CROW: Especially since his deodorant's given out. > I then desided to remove the > artificial skin and let my robotec arm show TOM: Yeah, man! Let it all hang out! > since the skin is > streached out so many times that it warn out then I stood up and then > something hit me on the top of my head. > MIKE: Okay, who's packing the clown mallet? > "What is that thing?" Roy said about the object that hit me. > CROW: It's good that Roy's curious, but I think he may be starting to push it a bit. TOM: Teach a man shorthand, and all of a sudden he's jotting down everything. > "Hey, I was looking for this." I was looking at a flat circle with > wires comming out from the bottom of it and small green lightning > flashed across the screen. "This stinking borg reenergizer was > sucking the energy from my figh- MIKE: And then it jumped off to land on his head? > Uh oh." The Borg Reenergizer > suddenly skocked me and I only saw streaks of lighting and then > blackness. > CROW: Try fiddling with the contrast a bit. > I woke up a few minutes later and saw people crowding around me and a > medic was about to preform CPR TOM: Well, maybe they wanted to mellow him a little through the miracle of oxygen deprivation... > when I put my hand to his face. "Don't > even think about it buddy." I pushed him away from me CROW: He may well wind up choking for air, but at least he'll do it in an uncompromising and manly way. > and I stood up > and starting shooing everyone away from me. "OK now shows over, get > get." and then a terrible throbbing came to my head. > MIKE: For secretly, he *did* crave their attention... very much so indeed. > "Are you OK Karl?" Rick asked me. I checked my pockets for a headach > soother and found it burnt to a crisp. > TOM: He began smacking his lips in anticipation of the now-gooey treat in his other pocket. > "Dose anyone have any asprin, I got a huge headach." Minmei gave me > some asprin and a glass of water to drink but as soon as I got a sip, > ZAP. I was shocked again and then little bolts of electricity made my > body twitched. "Nevermind." smoke came out of my mouth CROW: Not only does Riber do all his own stunts, he does all his own comedy relief. > and soon I > went back to the infermary. > MIKE: For the second stamp on his card. Three more visits, and he gets a free appendectomy. > The doctors put me in special care and attacked an electric monitor > to my robotic arm to drain some of the energy. CROW: And since he was running the monitor himself, they gave him the movie channels for free. > Later that day I was > showing the other pilots of how the Dragon Borg works. I showed them > how it can split into two seperate fighters, TOM: And right down the middle. Just be sure you have your seatbelt off first! > switch into an > anti-capital ship cannon and use cloak. When I got back Lisa and > Commander Minmei were waiting for me. > MIKE: Good grief, they found each other! CROW: Looks like a double-teaming in the works... > "Holy Mother Terasa!!" I said as I saw Commander Minmei come twards > me. > CROW: [Lisa] You never get that excited when it's just me... > "Time to go Riber" > > "Oh geeze Commander can't I stay a little-" Then Minmei Grabed me by > the neck. "I guess this means< yack> no." TOM: Well, it could. Discerning minds might find rich symbolism in it too, though. > then Minmei droped > me and I hit my head on the wing of my fighter and I blacked out > again. I always find myself blacking out alot. > CROW: And the disturbing thing is that it becomes harder for him to figure out why every time. > An hour later I think, I was in Lisa's room but lisa wasn't the first > thing I saw. MIKE: Looks like the glue didn't stick her picture to the ceiling after all. > I saw Lynn Minmei's face and thought it was Commander > Minmei and my first thought was that I was sleeping on the job again > and she was going to pownd me. > CROW: Management by pounding. She certainly keeps up with the buzzwords! > "YAAAEEEEE!!!!" I jumped out of the couch and then I hesitaded and > remembered that I was still on the STF-1. TOM: They signed that treaty making pounding a diplomatic offence just in time. > "Sorry, I thought that I > was in trouble with the Commander and speaking of the > Commander, where is she and what just happeded?" > > "She, I mean me, I mean the Commander CROW: Uh-oh--identity crisis in progress! MIKE: Her management of her backup group may well involve death threats soon. > was surprized when she saw Rick > and immedeately droped you. TOM: Leave it to Minmei to get right to the important job. > Commander went to the other ships for > some reason." Lynn-Minmei informed me about the Commander. > MIKE: Karl just can't let other people speak for themselves, can he? > "Are you alright Karl?" Lisa asked me as she placed her hand on my > forehead to check for a fever. > CROW: Then she palpitated his chest to check for congenital heart weakness. > "Nothin but some asprin woun't cure, next time I keep my helmet on > when I get off the fighter." Then suddenly my computer lite up TOM: [computer] The correct pronunciation is "aerospace interceptor." > and > then there was a transmission from the Captin of the U.C.E. > Dreadnaught Angel Fire. > > "Riber, are you there?" > MIKE: Wouldn't he always be where his *wrist* computer was? TOM: Perhaps self-inflicted amputations are a problem in the U.C.E. > "Yes captin." > > "Riber, we have recieved information of a Crongus bace on Io. CROW: Unsubstantiated tips in unmarked envelopes are good enough for the U.C.E.! > We are > calling all Terrain trained soldgiers for an immediate attack on the > bace." > MIKE: Charging blindly into the jaws of death ought to add a nice veneer of tragedy to the Crongus Wars. > "But why ground troops Captin?" > TOM: Well, it turns out the Dragon Borg models aren't selling as well as they'd hoped... > "Their defence is too tight for fighters and so we'll land troops on > the other side of the moon and attack on foot." > CROW: Plus, y'know, riding around inside a big robot isn't quite as inspirational as waving a gun around with your sweaty face in the thick of it. TOM: But if he was landing on Io, he'd still have to wear a space suit to hike halfway around it. MIKE: Not if he took a very deep breath just before he landed. > "Let me guess, were being droped are we?" > > "Yes and we've recieved volunteers from the STF-1 for the mission. CROW: Hey, fresh cannon fodder! MIKE: Still, they're calling up a soldier who's just recovered from a concussion... > We'll see you in two hours so get here and ready for drop > immediately. Out." > > "What's a drop Karl?" Lynn-Minmei asked me. > TOM: Well, it usually involves releasing something above the ground... > "When we cannot set up a bace or a camp, we are dropped in Troop > Carriers from a capitol ship to the planet's surface and deployed > immediately. The drop feels like you're falling a hundred miles an > hour MIKE: Which is actually quite good, considering you only have to pay fifty cents for the ride. > and the Carrier shakes and rattles and the worst thing of all is > that a Troop Carrier is vunderable and can be destroyed." > TOM: He's not concerned about the pitched battles that immediately follow the drop, of course. If he dies then, it's just his own fault. > "And they still have to do it." Lisa asked me with a worried face. > CROW: Because if they're all like Karl, there's one dangerously unenthusiastic crowd packed into those carriers. > "Yes and I Hate drops. I was close to death in drops, I don't know > how many times." > MIKE: Given how much time he spends out of it, I'm starting to wonder how good Karl's Dragon Borg skills really are. TOM: Perhaps he just has a little trouble disengaging the boobytraps. > An hour and a half later on the Angel Fire, we were prepairing for > drop. CROW: For somebody who hates drops so much, he was admirably prompt in showing up. > Lisa wanted to attach a camera so she can realy see a Crongus > battle. I don't realy see the point in seeing the person you love die > on video but she gave me that look again. TOM: ...I find myself worried that she's thought about Karl's little gorefest-on-tape a bit too deeply. CROW: She should bottle "that look." It's pure power in a can! > Anyway, The Dragon Fire was > assighned to Troop Carrier #147 in drop bay #9. > MIKE: Karl may be spinning a yarn, but he hasn't neglected the academic researchers. > "This is the Captin speaking, all personel prepair for drop. I > repeat, all personel prepair for drop." CROW: Be sure you've got your padded sneakers on! > All of the soldiers rushed in > an orderly fasion tward their Carriers, TOM: With no tripping, and hardly any elbows. > the tanks were being > prepaired for drop and Robroids are attached to Drop baskets in the > middle of the drop deck. > MIKE: But just try and get them to go to such lengths to pick them up again, and you'll see... > "We are going in with the first wave, and you know what that means, > you crush the entire area and kill all of the enemy in your warpath. TOM: And the second wave is being told to advance over what's left of these guys, and the *third* wave is being told to mop up... > Do you get me?" Commander told us and we replied. > > "We get you Ma'am!" > TOM: And she didn't even have to threaten to kill any of them. MIKE: Well, she does have the battle to look forward to for that. > The Carriers and other things being droped are lowered into the drop > zone where we are cleared of the ship and then there was a sudden > jolt and then the drop experience. TOM: Are they experienced? Well, they are now... > I closed my eyes and wished that > we haven't got to do this opperation. MIKE: But if wishes were pigs, we'd all eat sausages. > after a few moments we hit the > landing zone CROW: Huh! He worries and worries, and then it's over almost before it starts. > and the doors opened up and we rushed out with weapons > ready for firing and we were given orders to join the first wave > attack group at the attack zone. TOM: I guess they needed to look enthusiastic to really be asked to take part in the attack. > There were energy bolts, grenades, > and rockets flying all over the place. MIKE: And let's have a moment of appreciation for the munitions plants that made all this possible. > There was a legion of Vicoo > Destroyers and flyers heading straight for us and a squad of Qulan > Insectoids attacked us. We launched a mini nuke at the aproaching > Legion whick destroyed all but 52 of them CROW: Although granted there were only fifty-three of them to begin with. MIKE: At least they're still playing with a full deck. > and five of us were > captured by the tongs of Killers and ripped apart by their jaws. > TOM: If the Crongus ever bothered to invent long-range weapons, they'd *really* clean up. CROW: Well, they're doing well enough already. Why make the less fortunate hostile aliens look really bad? > "Come on!! Let's kill these stinking bastards!" The young soldier > named Marco Hemandes shouted and starting to run twards the Vicoo > legion, cursing with every word under the sun, TOM: Even "indubitable?" CROW: *Especially* "indubitable." > if you get my drift. > Then suddenly a Warrior surprized Marco and launched a spike from the > bottom of his mandables TOM: No wonder he was surprised. I thought they'd pulled all the spike-launching Warriors off the shelves myself. > that went through his chest and dragged him > to the Warrior's snapping jaws and I can still see him strugling for > his life has the Vicoo riped him piece by piece. > MIKE: See, what makes this scene so powerful is that we know and care about Marco as a character. CROW: [sadly] I already miss his foul mouth... > After that grousome encounter with the Vicoo we headed straight for > the bace pirimiter and then several Crongus Tri-wing Bio fighters > bombarded us with Plasm blasts. TOM: And you know they're evil when they use their own secretions to attack! > We launched every solid weapon we had MIKE: Aren't weapons usually solid? CROW: They must be keeping their irresistible sense of rightness in reserve. > because the exoskeleton of the Bio fighters absorb energy weapons. We > destroyed all but one but then all of the enemy forces began > retreating. TOM: Um, is "everyone" retreating that impressive when there's just one of them left? > This was odd since they only retreat if they were eather > badly damaged or their prize is destroyed and then a horrible thought > hit me. > CROW: That he'd stomped on the Cracker Jack box himself. > "Commander, they rigged the bace to blow!!" > > "We know, everybody get your asses out of here, TOM: But leave your burros! There's no time for the burros! > back to the > carriers!!!" > > Everyone rushed back to the troop carriers MIKE: Good to see them keeping up the enthusiasm they went in with. > as the bace began to glow > blood red which means that the self destruct sequence is already at > work. CROW: What about the ever-popular surprise boobytrap? TOM: These are the *Crongus.* They'll tear their enemies to gory ribbons some other time. > We barely made it out when a huge Plasm explosion that looked > like a yellow dome rocked the carrier followed by a blue mushroon > cloud MIKE: In specially marked boxes, for a limited time only. > and all that remains of the bace is a huge lava filled crater. > > Back on the Angel Fire, Lisa and I were in the squadron's quarters > packing up for a temporary move to the STF-1 CROW: Wait, why is Lisa moving back to her own ship? TOM: Leave it to Karl to ask for a woman's help packing his socks. > to protect it while the > new bace on Eroupa was being constructed to protect this parallel > universe from the Crongus still in the system and future invasions. MIKE: That and it keeps the base-building lobby happy. > Lisa asked me if there were other parallel universes of what she > called as the Robotech Universe. > TOM: Because, in an odd way, the thought that other people were going through almost exactly what she's going through was strangely comforting. > "Yah, I've heard stories of other Robotech Universes from squadrons > in the 167th Colonial Defence Fleet like the famouse Thunder > Stalions." > MIKE: [Karl] I don't know what I'd do without that fleet... the first hundred and sixty-six aren't all that talkative. > "Well that makes me wonder if your realy in the right universe." > TOM: Lisa, it may be just a little late to start worrying about that. > "I've thought of that too, but with you in it I do fell like I'm > home." We were about to kiss CROW: And hey, any universe where those lines work is a good one. > when there was a sudden beep from my > wrist computer. "I've got to find the off swich on this thing." I > muttered to myself as I answered it. MIKE: They told him it would be just as good as a Lens, too. Talk about your false advertising! > "Riber here, who is it?" > > "This is Gloval, we heard a confession from a captive Quazar Raider CROW: Coming from Saturday morning cartoons as they do, Quazar Raiders can only be captured, not killed. > that the Crongus plans to kill Lynn-Minmei but we don't know why?" > TOM: After all, those earmarked for Crongus destruction could benefit from personal examination. Why go to all the trouble of protecting her if they'll give up when she stops shouting in assorted ears? > "They probably think that Lynn-Minmei is a Sire-Singer." > > "What makes you say that?" > MIKE: The "sire" bit's obvious enough, but there's something puzzling about the whole "singer" concept. > "The Crongus hate music because to them it sounds like nails on a > chalk board magnefied fifteen times TOM: Hey, I just thought of an anti-Crongus weapon! CROW: So did the U.C.E. Unfortunately, the battles in the slate mines didn't go well... to say nothing of their struggles building amps that go up to fifteen. > and any Crongus Biology and in > all of the other parallel Robotech Universes, Lynn-Minmei is a > popular singer from what I've heard and will want to kill her." > CROW: ...I guess you can't have *too* much competition with yourself. > "Have they become sucsessful with the other assasinations." > > "I'm not sure but there assasin will stop at nothing until he > eliminates the target." > TOM: He'll pass fake bills, take two papers from the newsstand, and ring doorbells and run away! MIKE: The fiend! > "Well the Raider also said that the Crongus will send their best > warrior." > > "Is his name Zor Omega?" > > "Yes but how did you know of that Riber?" > CROW: He *could* ask that very same question. But since *not* asking it gives him a chance to ramble on a bit further, he won't. > "The U.C.E. had some dealings with Zor Omega in which we codenamed > him Prototype. MIKE: [Karl] Because any self-respecting production model would keep *his* side of the bargain... but I digress. > Prototype was an expiramental soldier created by a > combination of Crongus DNA and the DNA of a Tiresian named Zor who > discovered Robotechnolgy and desighned this fortress and-" > TOM: And when he can do all that, he's just got to add something effective to a soldier! > "This original Zor built the STF-1?" Lisa interupted me. > CROW: A genuine Zor original! Sure, there's a little aftermarket customisation, but still... > "Yes, now where was, I oh yes. TOM: Be careful, Lisa. You might make him repeat himself! > Prototype was created from a > combination of Crongus DNA and Zor's DNA with the frame work of a > Biomech MIKE: --And *just* a pinch of pixie dust-- > in resulding the birth of Prototype. TOM: On the half shell, with Vicoo Killers carrying in clothes. > Prototype had two main > purposes to reveal the secrets of Robotechnology to the Crongus and > to be the perfect warrior. CROW: Well, that and he'd also be a great fry cook. > The Crongus implaned blockers in his mind > to prevent the original Zor from resurvising. TOM: The Tycrolnian Candidate. > He had the telepathic, > telecanetic, and energy powers of the Crongus with the super strenth, > agility, and healing abilities of a Biomech with the complex and > intelegent mind of Zor. MIKE: Plus a refreshing minty flavour-- TOM: --A powertrain warranty-- CROW: --And a free carrying case. *Now* how much would you pay? > They named him Zor Omega and sent him into a > battle and was so sucsessful that the Crongus decided to create an > army of Prototypes CROW: Come on, it's not that much trouble to make dies. TOM: No, no. The prototype's always the best model in these things, so why stop at just one? > with Zor Omega as the General. The U.C.E. began a > counter offencive against the lab but Commander Minmei Lynn was the > one who destroyed the lab and the unborn soldiers and Prototype has a > vendeta against Minmei for the death of his unborn race. TOM: A vendetta? Wow, he *is* evil! MIKE: And it's not even a good vendetta like avenging a lost fiance. > Prototype is > a very skilled worrior with the Martial Arts of Earth and Tyclolni > programed into him and is relentless in destroying us. CROW: The classic Type A personality all around. > I'd better > report this to the admiral about Prototype." > > "How dangerouse is Prototype?" Lisa asked me. > > "Extreamly dangerouse." MIKE: They say they'll put hand guards on before he goes to market, though. > Then Lisa's heal bumbed into something. She > looked down and pulled out a large, heavy black box with the symbol > of the cross on the lid. CROW: It was about time his cross trainers showed up, too. > A box that I remembered too well. > TOM: Which is why he keeps it where anyone can trip over it. > "Karl, what's this?" Lisa asked me as she bent down to take a closer > look at the box. Then Rick, Roy and Lynn-Minmei came in the quarters. > CROW: Karl should've thought ahead before he gave out those party invitations. > "Say Lisa, what did you find?" Roy asked Lisa about the box. > > "Well Lisa, that box contained a few idems when I had my first > dimentional expirience." I explained. > MIKE: Lisa has become Karl's official press secretary. TOM: The items were confiscated by the vice squad, but at least the box reminds him of it... > "What expirience Karl?" Lisa asked with that look on her face. > > "Well it wasn't one of my faundest memory but..... when I was in > patrol with my first squadron the Blazing Angels, MIKE: He put up a valiant fight, but "that look" ultimately prevailed. > a Crongus > Dreadnaught opened a dimentional portal and I got sucked in and fell > onto a totaly alien Earth known as Rifts Earth. CROW: "Totally alien?" Come on, his stats all carried over! TOM: Fanbot. CROW: It's *obscure!* > I was stuck there for > three months and to survive, I became a.........Vanpire Hunter." > TOM: Karl, it's not really *that* much worse than working behind a lunch counter. > "A Vanpire Hunter?!" They all said in surprize of my previouse > ocupation. > CROW: Sure, the hours are weird and the pay's bad, but at least you come home at the start of the day knowing you've made a difference. > "Yes a Vanpire Hunter. I became an expert on Rift Vampires and > everything I had learned I wrote in this book." MIKE: Which became a heart-warming gift shop bestseller on his return. > I opened the box and > lifted out a black book with red outlines titled Rifts Vanpires. CROW: Looks like he got the limited collector's edition. > "In > this book, I've wrote down every single information on how vanpires > in Rifts Earth behave, the hierarchy of the vampire society, how to > protect yourself from a vanpire and how to kill them." > MIKE: That's the first thing I look for in any guidebook. TOM: Saved the best for last, I see. > "Well tell us what the vampires are?" Rick asked me. > > I opened to the first page and on it was a spell to create the "Orb > of Light" > TOM: See, you'll frequently be consulting it in dark cellars... > "Yah know how vanpires are vunderable to daylight, well this spell > can create an orb of light that is powerful enought only to repel the > vanpires but it is efective." MIKE: Uh, didn't Rick ask what the vampires were? CROW: Come on, Mike. You don't have to *understand* something to destroy it. > I turned a cupple of pages until I came > to a chapter entitled "How to kill Rifts Vanpires" and placed my > finger on a paragraph that takls about stakings. MIKE: He must have included his gold rush supplement in there too. > "Vanpires are > powerless if you drive a stake directly into its heart in result of > him turning into a skeleton. The stake can be any wood type or > silver, in fact it can be anything wooden like an arrow or a spear TOM: A two-by-four! A toothpick! Popsicle sticks! It's all good! > but the arrow must only be wood tipped and not metal because it would > just bounce off. Once you drive the stake into the heart, do not > remove it because if you do, the vanpire will rematerialize and > attack again. MIKE: Now you tell me! That was my favourite stake! > After you stake the vanpire you must cut its head off, > burn the head and the body in several diffrent places and scatter the > ashes. > CROW: But it's a skeleton! Can't we just toss it in a wood chipper? > "A silver bullet can also weaken the vanpire but if it moves through > the vanpire's body too quickly, it will just heal itself. Also the > bullet must be more than 85% silver TOM: Now *why* did I know there'd be percentages in there somewhere? CROW: *Now* who's the fanbot? > or it would just bounce off and > the most difficult about the use of a silver bullet is that the > vanpire can transform into mists to remove the bullet. CROW: So always back up your silver bullets with leaf blowers and heat lamps. > Herbs can > repel vanpires like garlic and wolfbay and if you eat herbs, the > vanpire will vomit the herb contaminated blood. MIKE: You'll get away with a craving for tomato juice and a squint in bright sunshine. TOM: Oh, and herb breath. > I you make a circle > of herbs around you, then you are protected because vanpires cannot > cross a circle of herbs. CROW: But *do* make sure first it's not a windy day. > The cross or the shadow of the cross can > deliver great pain to the vanpire so it can protect you from a > vanpire's bite. > > "Vanpires cannot cross running water unless there's a bridge over it MIKE: Surprisingly, though, they don't need bridges over troubled waters. > because running water is like asid to them and the water of a squrt > gun is considered running water. CROW: There's no scene more thrilling in a vampire hunting story than the one where they pass out the squirt guns. > Still water like a puddle or a pool > will cause it great pain and Holy water is even worse to them. Plus > they can't enter a ring of Holy water. TOM: They can't do this, they can't do that... Why were we ever scared of vampires? CROW: Uh, because of the capes? > Vanpires must sleep during the > day and in the soil of the land where it became a vanpire like if you > were bitten in North America then it must sleep in soil of North > America. CROW: If you're bitten in a garden centre, you have to sleep in potting soil. MIKE: North America's a pretty big place. TOM: Oh, and what if the vampire wanted to go on a broadening world tour? Philistine! > Vanpires are vunerable in the day, but they can be awaken > and attack any intruders for one hour before they collaps into a coma > like state of sleep. TOM: Plenty of time! How long does it take to bite someone? > If you contaminate the soil of the vanpire if it > was outside of it's homeland with holy water, herbs, or crosses CROW: This seems disturbingly uninclusive. MIKE: Hey, they've always got herbs. > then > the vanpire cannot rest and will go mad and by the second day it dies > so it caries soil for three lairs just in case if one of them is > contaminated." > CROW: These vampires sound like real belt-and-suspenders people. > "You said something about Vanpire hierarchy?" Roy asked me. > MIKE: Don't encourage him, Roy! > "In the Vanpire soiety, there are three vanpire types; a wild > Vanpire, secondary, and master Vanpire but the master Vanpire must > answer to the Vanpire intelegents." TOM: And there's the org chart to prove it. MIKE: He did say he'd written down everything. > I turned to a page with a drawing > of the ugly Vanpire Intelegents. It was one huge mass with one huge > eye surounded by a ring of eyes and had tenticles with mouths full of > canine teeth. CROW: It was clever of him to use the loaded word "ugly." Of course, we're too sharp to have our opinions twisted by it. > "The Intelegents is the master of the vanpires. When it > enters a dimention, it looks for a being willing to join with it to > be an anchor to the dimention and soon replace the personalaty of the > host. MIKE: Oh, so we get to see the tragic doom of a deluded traitor. TOM: Either that, or toss out another note at the end of the story. > It requires humanoid blood and a power source known as a Ley > Line Nexus to power itself. CROW: Hey, Rifts Earth really *is* totally alien if they call a wall socket that! > Then it creates a Demon Familiar that > looks like a giant bat and a master vanpire. The Master Vanpire sets > out to create more vanpires. TOM: Even vampires delegate. MIKE: That's why it's intelligent. > There are three ways to kill the vanpire > intelegents. 1: kill all of the vanpires in service to the vanpire > intelegents which must be done early before the master vanpire > creates hundreds of vanpires. CROW: Wouldn't it make sense just to take out the master vampire, then? MIKE: He said he was going to kill the smart vampire, and he's going to take care of that first! > 2: attack it directly and quickly > before it regenerates which is very difficult. 3: force it to retreat > into another dimention. The intelegents will be shocked from rapidly > traveling to another dimention and will kill it. TOM: But I thought the purpose of other dimensions was so you *didn't* have to kill anyone. MIKE: When you're fighting vampires, you're forced to extreme measures. > When the intelegents > die, its vanpire followers turn to dust." > > "Wow! That's amazing!" Lynn-Minmei said. > MIKE: Well, until the Rifts Dust Bunnies show up. > "Well I woun't say amazing but it is different than normal legend of > Vanpires. CROW: I'll say. Where's the dark, subversive sexuality? MIKE: It's too hard to model in RPG terms. TOM: Even with eight-sided dice. > Well I need to report to the admiral now." > > "Why's that?" Lynn-Minmei asked. > MIKE: After spending so long talking about vampires, he obviously doesn't have anything important to report. > "Well I got word from Gloval that the Crongus is . . . . . . . > planning to kill you." > CROW: Well, at least he *seemed* to try to soften the disturbing news. > "What, but why?!" Lynn-Minmei gasped at the news. > > "The Crongus believe that you are a singer, TOM: Yeah, people believe a lot of things. > in which the Crongus > called Sirens, and any music makes their ears bleed MIKE: Which makes wax plugs fall out. It's an ultimate weapon! > and go mad with > anger. Exept that one song by Colio, I believe the song's title is > 'Gangsters Paradice' TOM: Amazing. Any song would work there, and yet the ridiculousness remains unique. > and I have to report this to the Admiral so in > the meantime don't say anything." > > "Why's that Karl?" Lynn-Minmei asked me about my all too important > advice. > MIKE: Well, he's already spent long enough answering questions. > "The Crongus can identify your voice fluctuations and can pinpoint > your location so if you don't talk, chances are that they won't find > you if they don't have more than your voice." CROW: But I thought her voice was all they needed anyway... TOM: That's talking! No talking! > Lynn-Minmei was almost > shivering in fear of what I told > > her. MIKE: Not only is she being hunted by a ruthless and powerful foe, she has to depend on someone who'd rather lecture about vampires than warn her. > Five minutes later, I reported the latest news of the Crongus' > plans. The Admiral asighned the entire squadron to protect her and > hope to get Prototype to leave Lynn-Minmei for another target but > that was unlikely. TOM: Hey, protection *and* a fitness report! The Admiral's sharp. > We were going down some street near a park and > Lynn-Minmei asking us all of these questions about us, MIKE: Wait, wasn't she warned not to talk? CROW: That was over five minutes ago. Obviously, the danger's passed. > especialy > Commander Minmei and then from out of the shadows and right in frount > of us was Prototype although we didn't knew that it was Prototype > then. > MIKE: Well, so much for the amazing semblance of suspense... again. > "Excuse me but your in our way sir." A pilot named Javiar Santargo > from the Latin quadront of South America TOM: Ooh--another new guy with a name! How long do you think *he'll* last? > told the cloaked man who was > Prototype MIKE: All cloaked eccentrics should be considered innocent until proven guilty. > and then he snached out his hand like a bullet CROW: He said *move!* > onto the > stomach of a fat store owner and ripped his intestines from his gut TOM: Don't you think there's been enough tripe already? > and threw it twards Lynn-Minmey and his eyes glowed bright yellow. > CROW: Another gruesome death... but Javiar wasn't the victim! MIKE: The surprises never cease. > "Oh holy mother Teresa!! It's Prototype!!" Prototype pushed his hood > back to reveal his face. MIKE: Typical. You get someone a nice cloak, and look how much they use it. > He had purple hair with blue eyes now turned > red which indicate that he is prepairing himself for battle, TOM: Or that it's hay fever season. > lightly > taned skin and a small nose. Prototype unhooked his cloak and it fell > to the ground CROW: So not only is he evil, but he's a litterbug too! > while we pulled out our hand guns. > > "He's mine." Commander Minmei placed her arm in front of us TOM: Come on, what's the point of a squadron if you don't *use* it? MIKE: But they can cheer just as loudly as before. > and then > she pulled out a U.C.E. Energy Blade and at that same moment, > Prototype activated his Crongus Double Energy Blade MIKE: Oh, like we aren't supposed to know where that came from. CROW: Yep. There can only be one! > which is actualy > two Crongus Energy Blades attacked to the handle but then we noticed > that he had an external blade generator TOM: The little go-cart he carried the half-ton generator on was their first clue. > which enables him to > reenergize his blade when he fires and energy blade rapidly while > normaly would take a normal blade five seconds to reenergize and that > means that he can fire multiple blades at us that would shread us > into burning matter. > CROW: Leave it to Karl to save the most important bit of trivia for last. > "Let's get outa here guys." I said to the squadron. > TOM: Yeah, they've got a throne room to get to. > "You can't leave her here, you just can't!" Lynn-Minmei was almost > crying and I can see tears forming in her eyes. > CROW: Come on, it's not like she *identifies* with that crazed... Oh, right. > "Now Minmei, the Commander can handle herself with him like she did > before MIKE: After a while, you almost begin to expect hot buttery innuendoes in scenes like this one. CROW: So *you* say. I think they make a lovely couple. > and you don't want to be around when they fight, it can get > very brutal-" and then Prototype's energy blade almost sliced my leg > in two. "YYYYEEEOOOOOWWWWWWW!!!!!!! See what I mean. TOM: Okay, he's handled the screaming pain. Now to the important part: the object lesson! > Dose any of you > guys have a Nano Bloob on you..eeww, its wrigling." Then Hunk carried > me ALL: Hunk? MIKE: Did we just add a crossover with Voltron? > far away from the fight but in visual range. The battle was > intence, it was almost like a Starwars light saber duel. ALL: Whoops! CROW: Now where's the fun in being subtle when they go right out and *tell* us? > The blades > clashing as the blades pulse with access energy and energy blades MIKE: Three blades, for the closest shave ever! > fired from the handle and reflected. Commander Minmei and Prototype > were doing Martial kicks and slaming their fists to the ground to > make the ground shake since both had super human strenth CROW: Since when? MIKE: Well, Minmei hasn't had to open any pickle jars. She didn't have to *show* it. > and most of > the time have their fists stuck to a wall TOM: Minmei's gamble when she raided the beehives in the park paid off. Prototype couldn't resist the honey either. > and then throw a piece of > the wall at the other. Prototype grabed something in his bag and blew > on the dust which suddenly became fire. MIKE: And for his *next* trick, he'll pull a War Dog out of his bag! > Commander Minmei did a flip > over Prototype and kicked him in the back tward a car in which > Prototype lifted above the air CROW: Prototype makes a living launching satellites on the side. > and threw it twards the Commander. She > sliced the car in half MIKE: He gives her a nice thoughtful gift, and just look how she treats it! > and clashed her blade with Prototype. > Prototype's eyes glowed blood red and bolts of his own energy came > flying ALL: EWWWWW!!! > our of his eyes and Commander Minmei used her blade to defledt > the bolts and then his hands glowed until it semed that his hands are > glowing blue orbs TOM: Wait, he glows red *and* blue? CROW: Well, he *is* a prototype. Maybe there's a bug in his evil energy generator. > and fired a beam of energy tward the Commander and > she fliped out of the path of the beam that soon destroyed a building > about a block down the street. > MIKE: From legs to cars to buildings... once you get started, it's hard to stop. > Roy and Rick saw us across the street and came twards us. TOM: This may not be the best time to get the squadron involved in a "tastes great--less filling" debate, though... > Natualy we > pulled them twards us since Prototype missed a shot and almost missed > Rick. > MIKE: *Ouch.* CROW: Still, Prototype managed to keep his streak running, if barely. > "That could have been you." I said TOM: Why don't you look? > as they opened a tube filled with > Nano bloob. > > "What happened to you?" Roy stared at my scar on my left leg. > MIKE: It's nice of Roy to avert his eyes from the gaping cauterised void in the leg. > "I've been sliced." I turned to the other guys and said. "Do you guys > have any anastedics or something." CROW: [Roy] No, but you can bite down on this pencil. TOM: [Rick] Why not just black out like you usually do? > Then they pulled out a gun-like > neddle labled anastedics and gave me a shot of in in my arm. "The > leg, not the arm the leg. TOM: Ah yes, the wacky antics of incompetent paramedics! MIKE: Always good for a chuckle. > That's where the pain is, the leg. Awww > great, now my arm is num." MIKE: I just hope the batteries in his mechanical arm are still good. TOM: *ahem* MIKE: Right, right, energy cells. > We wached the fight continue for fifteen > minutes and twards the climax of the duel, they were in the park and > they sliced five trees and then somehow she paralized Prototype CROW: "Somehow?" Well, she isn't the main character. I suppose it doesn't matter that much. > and > was about to impail him with her Energy blade when he teleported in a > blaze of light and went shooting across the city. > TOM: On the other hand, even Prototype is unsatisfied to be killed in such a manner. > About an hour later and Prototype still hasn't return to kill > Lynn-Minmei and we suspect that he's up to something MIKE: So he's a master of psychological warfare, too! TOM: An hour's wait! They must be close to cracking! > and then we got > a call from Gloval. > > "Riber come in, this is Gloval and were under attack by what many > survivors say vanpires and we need your help imediately." > CROW: You mean his lecture wasn't simply the educational content for the day? I'm shocked! MIKE: I'm just curious as to when Gloval heard Karl was useful for getting rid of vampires. TOM: Hey, it's weird. That's all the justification he needs! > "Karl was a vanpire hunter and he has weapons under his bed." > TOM: I don't know... that's the sort of admission I'd really rather make myself. CROW: *If* you had weapons under your bed. TOM: Yes. If. > "Good, Karl, as captin of the STF-1 I'm placing you in charge of > taking care of the vanpires. MIKE: Um, should Karl be running around after one of his legs was almost sliced off? TOM: Oh, he can still command. He just has to *hop* to it. MIKE & CROW: [groan] > Commander Minmei, you'll keep an eye on > Lynn-Minmei and be careful." > TOM: Oh, sure--give Karl the easy job! MIKE: Those autograph sessions can really get brutal. > In the quarters I was putting on my anti-vanpire armor CROW: Which he's now thanking himself for packing instead of his anti-mummy or anti-wolfman armour. > and was > sliping on my leg and boot armor when Lisa walked in and from the > look on her face, she heard of the mission about the Vanpires. > TOM: Did the ear-to-ear grin give it away, or was it the twinkle in her eye? > "So your going to do it?" Lisa asked me with sadness in her eyes like > she will lose me. > CROW: ...Um, was that the dark, subversive sexuality finally showing up? > "Well I have to, I'm the only one on this ship that knows how to kill > vanpires. TOM: What, his lecture didn't take? MIKE: Were *you* paying attention by the end? TOM: Fair enough. > It is strange though." > > "What is it Karl?" > CROW: Well, what isn't? > "Vanpires are never a few kilometers away from a Vanpire Intelegents, MIKE: They're either right beside them or light years away. Just don't try to follow them when they're going away, though! > not even in another dimention and there are no Ley Line Nexuses to > power it." Then I shiped on my right arm armor and gauntlet. > TOM: Not that that strange fact will stop him from sallying forth to hunt what he *assumes* are Rifts Vampires, no... > A moment later, I was in my armor and was placing my silver and > wooden weapons on to my armor. MIKE: Poor Karl. After he spent all his money on his sterling slingshot, he had to back it up with a pointy stick. > I was reaching for my three swords > when Rick came it to the quarters. > TOM: You know, Karl, that door *does* have a lock on it. > "Don't you think that its a bit much." He said about my armor. > CROW: [Karl] So I buy lots of silver polish; what's it to you? > "Hey, I don't want to be bitten by a vanpire and besides, this armor > increases my strenth and agility to mach that of a vanpire." MIKE: And, as such, is much more expensive than anti-zombie armour. TOM: Well, that's just fifty pounds of chains heaped on the shoulders. > Then I > grabed my cross and placed it in my holder and pulled out my rapid > firing stake launcher TOM: Would Buffy approve? > and a Solar Beam generator and my helmet. > > After my debreafing of vanpires to my team, Rick came in and > volentered to hunt the vanpires, CROW: He's already sat through a similar lecture; he might as well put it to use. > after a long discusion I finaly let > Rick join the mission MIKE: Good thing they added the extra man. They'll definitely need him against the couple of hundred vampires that got cranked out while they were arguing. > and headed straight for the formaly Fold > Generator because that's were most of the vanpires were from TOM: As suggested by the sharp creases of their trousers. > and > discovered that the Vanpire Intelegents was feeding on the fold > fluctuations of the disapeared fold generator. CROW: You know, I'm starting to think these vampires wouldn't bother with the blood bank if you sent it to them. TOM: The risks of appearing on a ship of herb-eaters is just too great these days. > We were about to enter > the Fold Generator room when we were attacked by a hord of vanpires. > We began fireing water guns CROW: High-tech weaponry and vampires. It's like peanut butter and chocolate! > and solar beam cannons and killed many of > the attacking vanpires and one of the vanpires took a bite on my > armored gauntlet but got a sever burn from the cross I placed on his > head and then jammed a wooden steak right into its heart. > MIKE: Against this new, unleashed Karl, even vampires do themselves in quickly. > We entered the generator room and found hundreds of vanpires and one > Demon Familar surounding the Vanpire Intelegents. I thought then that > the vanpires originated from the dimention of Rifts Earths CROW: Because, after all, if they weren't then his lecture simply would have been talking to hear himself talking. > and not > from the STF-1 because the entire population of the STF-1 couldn't > become vanpires in one sector. TOM: Wow, he's *still* trying to make sense of things. It's almost touching. > We opened fired on the Vanpires and > fired many Garlic Grenades CROW: I dunno. The cooking may be a little bland, but that's just going to make matters worse. MIKE: Maybe a ginger bomb will blend the spicing a little. TOM: Oh, of course a Big Ugly like you would think of that. > at the other vanpires. The Deamon Familiar > began to fly twards us and then amasingly Rick fired a silver steak > right into the giant bat's heart. > CROW: An important character from the original story did something? That *is* amazing! TOM: He's also got a more expensive weapon. > "Everyone, fire at the other vanpires, the fat one's mine." MIKE: Yes, the one that needs to go on a diet has to be the most formidable one! > I ordered > my vanpire extermination squad to attack the other vanpires as I ran > tward the Intelegents and fired my solar beam cannons, wooden arrows > and silver bullets. TOM: Great, now he's got *both* Robin Hood and the Lone Ranger mad. > I mainly fired at the central body of the > Intelegents and blown up three tenticles. One of the Intelegent's > tenticles got a grip on my armored neck and tries continuously to > bite into my neck and drink my blood. TOM: Hey, I thought that vampire was supposed to be the smart one. CROW: Well, there's something slightly encouraging about its persistence. > I fired a beam at the bace of > the tenticle and fell to the floor with a loud thud. > CROW: Karl, you're kicking vampire tail. Why do you need to play dead? MIKE: He just needs to catch his breath, that's all. > "You cannot defeat me mortal." a loud, gurgling and rumbling voice > suddenly roared into my head TOM: What a time for his stomach to try out for a junk food commercial. > and I suddenly turned to the Vanpire > Intelegents. > > "I have existed for centuries and I cannot be killed, MIKE: Um, there seems to be a gap in your logic somewhere. TOM: By *that* reasoning, Mike *never* should have caught us raiding the candy jar. CROW: Well, maybe he wouldn't have if you hadn't taken the last piece... > your feeble > weapons cannot have any chance of defeating me. Your resistance is > feutile and you will be killed." TOM: The vampires sure are self-confident. They don't need our technology, and they don't even need us. > The Intelegents told me of my > actions to it. > > "You've gota be kidding." CROW: I'd say something a bit wittier myself, but hey, he's getting into the right spirit. > I pulled out a minaturized dimentional > generator and swiched it on. > > "What are you doing?!" > MIKE: It insults him and then asks for an explanation? I thought that vampire was supposed to be the smart one, too... > "Say hello to oblivion ugly!" CROW: Oh, and now you've gone and hurt its feelings. > I tosed the generator onto the > Intelegents and ducked as a dimentional rift began to open. TOM: Is a dimensional rift really that terrifying if you can avoid it by ducking? > "Everyone > hold on to something!" I shouted to my squad and they all hung on to > pipes and laders MIKE: Fortunately, the fold drive compartment is free of snakes. > and the suction of the rift pulls the Intelegents > into its Event Horizon and then spagetifies the fat creature. CROW: And in a truly delicious bit of irony, they'll top him off with garlic sauce. > The > rifts closed and all of the vanpires turned to dust. > MIKE: Gloval's next white-glove inspection was promptly rescheduled. > We emerged out of the engine area and found the streets crouded with > paniced people as an army of Lancer Vicoo carged twards us. TOM: Even after a string of fantastic crossovers, it's still strangely reassuring to see that some things never change. > I fired > an explosive carterage twards the center of the army which then blew > up about two thirds of the lancer MIKE: Cannon to the right of them, cannon to the left of them... an explosive cartridge in their centre. TOM: Theirs not to reason why... nor anyone else's. > and then I pulled out a pulse gun > and fired onto the Vicoo but strangely they ran away as if their > purpose was complete. > CROW: Yep, Karl wrought bloody havoc. Their mission is indeed complete! > We hurried to the safehouse where Lynn-Minmei was kepted and found > Prototype battling the commander. TOM: What? No staggeringly sudden appearance? Prototype's slipping. > Rick rushed to aid Lynn-Minmei MIKE: Ah, there's nothing like pairing off two supporting characters in passing. > as > the two combatence croced energy sword and fought hand-to-hand > combat. During the climax of the fight when Commander Minmei and > Prototype were about to clash again when I saw Prototype's eyes > wandering to the side CROW: Sure, the Crongus created an ultimate warrior, but they could have cured his lazy eye while they were at it. > and then I saw what he was looking at, a small > girl hudling a stuffed bear MIKE: Where did *she* come from? TOM: The set dresser? > and her now dead parents CROW: Remarkable armspan for a preschooler. MIKE: A crisis brings out the best in all of us. > with tears > running down her cheak and with a flagh of light, Prototype leaped > into the air in the direction of the girl. I ran tward the kid and > yelled to the girl to get out of the year but I was too late. TOM: What happened to Karl's sudden tail-kicking competence? CROW: He *does* have Minmei watching and judging him again... > Pototype jabed his energy blade into her heart and everyone gasped as > he pulled out his sword and the girl fell to the ground in a pool of > her own blood. > ALL: AAAAAHHHHH!!! CROW: We *knew* he was evil! He didn't have to *show* us! > We got another call from Gloval that the Crongus are asembaling an > attack force near Mars TOM: But *what about Prototype?* Did they just *let* him blip off? MIKE: ...Maybe he fell into a dimensional rift. CROW: So *that's* what they call plot holes these days! > and the fleet is organizing an attack force to > make the Crongus return to our universe and naturaly we must make > sure that the Crongus don't create any chaos as they return to the > universe TOM: What, so now their own universe is "the" universe? CROW: You'd think all of this would've expanded their minds... by *something.* > and that means that I might leave Lisa again. I went to > Lisa's quarters to say my goodbys to her even though it tears my > heart just thinking about it. > MIKE: Wild hearts can't be broken, but frayed hearts should be checked into. > I aproached Lisa and saw in her hand the reports of the Crongus > attack group near Mars and I saw tears in her eyes. TOM: Her latest batch of paperwork, of course, must be looked into before he notices how she's feeling. > "Your going away, > arn't you Riber?" Lisa sadden voice asked me as she slowly rose her > head to face me. CROW: Gears grinding, motors whining... MIKE: But hey, she's really improved at throwing her voice. > I had the same feeling about this mission, I didn't > want to leave her eather but I had my orders, even though I hated > them. > CROW: So all in all, it's pretty much business as usual. > "I'm sorry but I have to go, it has been my duity for twenty years > and I can't suddenly stop fighting. TOM: Couldn't violent video games wean him off of that? > I wish I could but I can't stay." > > "Can't you just unlist and stay here with us, with me." MIKE: And that honesty about who really needs him would be sure to make for a solid relationship, too... > Lisa looked > at me with her eyes filled with tears and dispaired because she knows > that I cannot stay. I placed my hand onto her sholders MIKE: And just to show he cares, he used his flesh one. CROW: I thought you'd say *that.* > and tried to > explained that I was too dedicated of ridding the universe of any > treats but she just couldn't absorb the fact that I'm leaving her > again. TOM: [muttering] And of *course* we close with a disbelieving woman. > There was no way that I could stay with her and stay with the > squadron. CROW: Oh, if only Karl could control quantum mechanics for his own benefit... > The Commander is a little harsh, and I streach the word > "harsh", but they were my family while I was with the U.C.E. and > fought the Crongus. Lisa then clung to my uniform and began crying. TOM: Who wouldn't after seeing Karl head home to his dysfunctional family? > I > lifted her chin and looked into her tear filled eyes and then she > softly said "I love you." to me. I kissed her onto her cheak MIKE: Karl sure can sweep 'em off their feet! > and > hoped that we could meet again. > > I went to the hannar with a heavy heart and climed into the cockpit > and began the launch sequence when I found Lisa's photo in my pocket. TOM: The thought of her rifling his clothing left him disturbed and uncomfortable for the rest of the trip. > I placed the photo near the HUD display so I can remembered our time > together that didn't involved us being attacked by organ ripping > aliens and vanpires. CROW: Then what's the *point?* > We attacked the Crongus and destroyed their Bio > Factory TOM: There's nothing like wrapping up a story with a nice juicy anticlimax. MIKE: Karl was probably weeping in his quarters when they did it. It's not like he can give an on-the-spot report. > and when we chaced the Crongus through the rift, I looked > back at the STF-1 one last time and CROW: --Completely missed his exit. I just hope he enjoys flying with the Star Blazers! > thought of Lisa and I never saw > her since. > CROW: Oh. Well, that's sort of tragic too. > _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ > > MIKE: It's a coded message! TOM: Now all we have to do is figure out what thirty-five "T"s mean. > > "It's been nice talking to.... what's your name again?" Karl asked a > fellow Marine star pilot that he was talking to and telling his > story. > TOM: I'm afraid that Karl's new career as a storyteller will be tragically short. > "My name is Carbal Baron. MIKE: [Carbal] You killed my father. Prepare to die. > You want to watch the Scrap Races with me, > I hear that Folker is in the race." Carbal asked. > MIKE: Roy seems to have come down in the world since leaving the service. TOM: This is the future, Mike. There are no barns left to storm. > "No thanks, my squadron is leaving for the new bace on Eropa and I > would like to see her again." > > "Oh you mean Lisa Hayes that you were talking about earlier." > TOM: What? He finishes off that long story by saying he hasn't seen her, and Carbal immediately assumes he'll see her anyway? CROW: Maybe he wasn't paying as much attention as you were by the end. > "Yes, I may be a full time Marine MIKE: So does that mean there are part time Marines? TOM: Accountants by day, combat riflemen by night! > but that dosn't mean that I can't > see the women I love so." > CROW: It does, however, cramp his style somewhat with the men. > "Well arn't you going to stay to greet the new first officer. I think > that all crew members and pilots suppost to greet the new first > officer." > > "Not if your leaving this very minute, CROW: Oh, sure. Rub it in, why don't you! > my squad is leaving for the > bace right now and my flight is ready to leave." > > "Ok, I hope that we meet again sometimes, it was good talking to you." > MIKE: [Carbal] It sort of matched all the listening to you. > "I hope so to, till we meet again pilot?" > > "Till we meet again Lieutenant Karl Riber." TOM: [Carbal] I'll just remind you that *I* can remember names... > Karl walked down the hall > that leads to the fighter bay and he strapped himself down onto the > fighter seat and prepared himself for launch. MIKE: Repeating his mantra fifty times gets him in the right frame of mind. > As the fighter squadron > were about to leave the hangar of the space station, a military > shuttle lands in the shuttle bay containing the new first officer. CROW: Would you believe it? They've already shipped their new first officer, but they still need a second flight for the prybar to open the packing crate. > The crew of the space station saluted the first mate to escorted the > newest member of the stations crew to the bridge. She instead wanted > to see that pilot that was about to launch. > TOM: Thereby establishing her respect and concern for her assigned duties right off the bat. MIKE: Hey. If she wants to take to task a pilot who thought he could just slip away, then let her do it, and more power to her! > Riber was about to prep his fighter for final launch sequence when a > familiar voice called to him. > CROW: He promised himself he'd increase his medications. > "Hello Riber, it's been a while." Riber turned around sharply and saw > Lisa standing there looking up at him. > > "Lisa? Is that you? Is it really you?" > TOM: Er, Hayase Misa actually. But almost. > "Yes my love, I am here." MIKE: Well, so much for his dreams of a psychological discharge. > Both looked deeply into each others eyes > and suddenly began to race toward each other and into each others > arms. > CROW: Colliding and tearing off Karl's artificial arm in the process. > > > TOM: ...Yes? Yes? MIKE: Maybe he blacked out again on impact. > > The End TOM: Ah. Good things come to those who wait. MIKE: Come on, let's go. Maybe things are cleaned up out there... [Mike picks up Tom and follows Crow out of the theatre.] [...1...2...3...4...5...6...] [SOL bridge. The sock puppets continue to mill around, pushing Mike, Tom, and Crow back against a wall. They're all wearing dark glasses, and looking nervously at Gypsy, who is on Cambot's side of the desk, facing away from us.] GYPSY: Okay, guys--brace yourselves! [As Mike, Tom, and Crow all shudder, the horde of sock puppets scream shrilly and stampede thunderously away. A hatch slams shut with some finality. Mike breathes a sigh of relief as he removes his glasses.] MIKE: Well, "that look" saved the day again. GYPSY: But we've got to remember to use it only for good. TOM: What are you talking about? Here we've finally got-- [The mads' light begins flashing.] TOM: Well, I suppose we do have to keep it out of the wrong hands. [Mike leans over and hits the light.] [Deep 13. Dr. Forrester is now scowling at the camera while Frank, in the background, morosely unwraps one mint after another.] DR. F: I see you've survived finding "Lost Soldier." But fret not-- whether it's anime, anime-esque, or plain Saturday morning, one day I *will* uncover the thing that will make you yearn for the War Dogs! [He begins to turn towards Frank, but bumps into something on the way. Suddenly, a Vicoo Killer in all its gruesomeness is hoisting him up off the floor as the sock puppets swarm into Deep 13.] DR. F: Push the button, Frank... [FWOOSH!] -[Author's Notes]----- This is my third solo MSTing, following "Undocumented Features" and "Judgment Day." I would like to thank the SVAM chat hall and the Dibs List for suggestions and general encouragement. I also extend special thanks to J. R. Posadas, who very generously gave me permission to MST this fanfic. Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its related characters and situations are trademarks of and copyright by Best Brains, Inc. All rights reserved. Use of copyrighted and trademarked material is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement on the original copyrights or trademarks held by Best Brains, Inc. is intended or should be inferred. Lost Soldier is copyright J. R. Posadas. Robotech is copyright Harmony Gold USA, Inc. Anything remotely original within this MSTing was written by Keith Palmer , and finished January 2002. > I placed the photo near the HUD display so I can remembered our time > together that didn't involved us being attacked by organ ripping > aliens and vanpires.