Sfstory Log 038

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Subject:     How much for that doggie in the window?
From:        (CFW9587 at TNTECH)

Space... The final frontier...  Oops!  Wrong channel.

The HMS Golden Lance and the HMS Liberator shot through Space and Time on  their
way to Time Central, in a precisely timed attack to rid the  multiverse  of  the
meddling influences of CBN, NOW, MFSOB, and other interventionist movements that
try to live other's lives for them.  Aided in this  attack  by  over  a  hundred
SPAM-powered warriors, they hope for a bloodless takeover.

But all is not as it should be.  The dictator of  Time  Central,  Ms.  Priscilla
Tussbonnet, has discovered these plans and has sent her son,  Sylvester  (a.k.a.
Greez Hyperiok, renegade Time Agent) to stop  them  using  the  newest  timeship
available, the HMS Silver Bullet, fitted with the largest ABPSARI known to man.

As we join out intrepid band of misfits, Time Agent 357, Doctor Bing Von Spleen,
Omegas, and Maldor, they have just discovered a ship on their tail.

"We have a ship  on  our  tail,"  muttered  Omegas.   He  idly  flipped  on  the
communicator and signalled the Golden Lance.  "357, we have a ship on our  tail.
Teleport Maldor back over here and we'll take it out for you."  Immortals can be
so arrogant sometimes, y'know.

=I'm afraid that won't be possible,= answered the voice of the VAL9000 computer.
=357 has ordered our shields raised.  And we're confronting the ship together.=

"Stupid mortals," mumbled Omegas.  "Why did I consent to fight with them?"

As the ship  came  closer,  357  noticed  that  the  ship's  armaments  appeared
uncomfortably  numerous.   "Doctor  Spleen,  any  suggestions.   It's  obviously
SPAM-powered, and you're the resident SPAMologist."

Doctor Bing Von Spleen looked up from his card  game  with  Maldor,  stating  "I
altered the Golden Lance Energy beam to disrupt  ABPSARI  operation.   It  won't
affect us, because we have the Cheez Whiz retrofit.  Go fish."

Time Agent 357 considered his options.  "Val, power up the Golden Lance and fire
at that ship as soon as it's in range."

=Shouldn't we see if they're friendly first?=

"Don't ask stupid questions.  Fire!"

Val fired.  The beam of destructive energy  and  Cheez  Whiz  shot  out  at  the
approaching craft, only to be scattered by its shields.  357 was about to  order
a full salvo when the communications terminal beeped.  "This is the  HMS  Silver
Bullet," said a voice.  "Surrender or die.   In  fact,  if  you  surrender  I'll
probably still kill you."

"I recognize that voice," said 357  as  he  switched  on  the  monitor.   "Greez
Hyperiok, you're supposed to be dead."

"So are you, 357," chuckled Greez.  "And you soon will be, unless you do exactly
what I say.  Hand over Spleen and Omegas, and I'll let the rest of you go."   He
fired several shots to emphasize each sentence, rocking the Golden Lance and the
Liberator.

"Why those two?" asked 357, stalling for time.

Greez looked a little amused.  He was going to kill 357 anyway, so why not  tell
him?  "Omegas is the single most powerful proponent of wrong thinking-"

"You mean FREE thinking," hissed Omegas.

"-of wrong thinking in the  multiverse,"  continued  Greez,  blasting  away  the
landing gear of Omegas' ship for interrupting.  "My mother wants him brought  to
her so she can dispose of him personally.  Spleen is the leading SPAMologist  in
the known multiverse, and my mother wants to have him design  weapons  for  her.
With the new weapons my mother can force all the people in all the universes  to
think the right way.  Namely, her way."

"Never!" shouted Spleen.  "She doesn't pay good enough!  And I  refuse  to  work
for any woman who would hire a man like me!"  Having made this attempt at valor,
he hid behind Maldor and attempted not to wet his pants.

"Your mother's a Jehovah's Witness, isn't she?" asked 357.

While all this was going on  another  subplot  was  hatching.   Sean  Landorian,
Captain in and temporary Chief of the Time Police, was still hacking his way out
of the hold of the Silver Bullet, utilizing blade scavenged from a SPAM- powered
Death to All Killer Combine that had been stored in the hold by mistake, or by a
contrived plot device.  Once free, he would attack the bridge  or  sabotage  the
engines, and live to be a hero or die an agonizing death.  Pick one from  either
column.

"Well?" continued Greez, obviously enjoying himself.  "What's it going to be?"

=357!= whispered Val.  =The engines of the Liberator are powering up.  Omegas is
up to something."

"Keep quiet, and ready the Temporal Teleporter Terminal," answered 357, who  had
a good idea of what Omegas was up to.  I don't, so let's watch.

Greez Hyperiok was still gloating over his apparent victory when  the  Liberator
reversed course and headed directly towards him.   "What?"  he  shouted.   "That
crazy immortal intends to ram me.  Doesn't he realize that the explosion  caused
when the two ships collide will destroy his form, even  if  his  soul  (or  lack
thereof) is immortal?"  Greez considered his options for all of two tenths of  a
second, then blew the HMS Liberator  to  kingdom  come.   "Now  for  the  Golden
Lance," he cackled evilly.

"Not so fast," said two voices behind him,  almost  in  unison.   Greez  whirled
about, DIESCUM pistol appearing as if by magic in his hand.  He was  shocked  to
see Sean Landorian and Omegas standing behind him.

"But... but..." stuttered Hyperiok.  "But I just killed you," he said to Omegas.
"And you're locked in the hold," he said to Landorian.

Landorian chuckled.  "So, it's my turn to  surprise  you.   Omegas  materialized
just after I cut my way out of the hold."

"Apparently you forgot about my inherent abilities  of  teleportation,"  snarled
Omegas as he moved closer.

Falsely assuming that Omegas was  less  dangerous,  as  he  was  unarmed,  Greez
attempted to attack him first, firing a shot through his chest.  Omegas was  not
bothered, as his body healed almost before the shot was completely through  him.
The instrument panel behind him did not fair so well.

The ship rolled up upon one side, which wouldn't have bothered the occupants had
not the artificial gravity kept its original alignment.   This  threw  off  Sean
Landorian's shot, causing it to miss Greez  and  blow  another  panel.   Omegas,
tiring of the struggle and not wanting to have to patch any more  holes  in  his
shirt, straightened his raybans and levitated above the sloping deck.   Once  he
had his balance, he backhanded Greez against yet another  panel,  and  signalled
the Golden Lance to teleport him aboard.

=Capture successful,= reported Val, as Greez materialized in  the  Golden  Lance
approximately seven feet above the deck.  Maldor caught him on the second bounce
and used gentle persuasion and spiked knuckles to convince  him  to  come  along
quietly.

"I'll be takin' care o' 'im," Maldor said to 357.  "Him father and a few  others
be the ones that lead us Krell inta a war."  He  dragged  Greez,  screaming  and
pleading, off to the brig.

=Report from Time Central,= said Val.   =The  Krell  warriors  have  taken  Time
Central and are holding Ms. Tussbonnet until we arrive.=

"Good," said 357.  "That takes care of everything."

Val cleared her electronic throat.  =Not everything, I'm afraid.  The HMS Silver
Bullet seems to be out of control.=  357 looked at the viewer, and  sure  enough
the Silver Bullet was shooting off into Space.  Omegas and  Landorian  were  not
aware of this yet, as they were still arguing over who was  getting  the  credit
for Hyperiok's capture.

"Nothing we can do about it now, Val," said 357.  "Set course for Time  Central,
via Netherspace so we can drop of the good Doctor."

"But what about the methane problem in the Earth's atmosphere cause by  all  the
cattle belching?" asked Spleen.

WHAT ABOUT IT?
WHAT ABOUT ME?
WHAT ABOUT HER?

and in the words of Socrates, "I drank WHAT?"

***** Received 01:41:53 on 03/11/89, Posting #   124 *****
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Subject:     Part two of the Sabre Update {Huzzah!}
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (B45J at CORNELLA)

     Here's part two of the ever-popular Sabre Plotline update.
Unfortunatly, its quite a bit smaller than part one, due to the
few remaining characters left to tell about.  Still, I hear tell
other people might put these plotline updates into their own
postings, so we will have to see.

     When we last left Will, Doc Smith, and the Robot....

     MUCK-LUCK: Muck-Luck is an alien who looks rather like Gene
Roddenberry mated with Gahndi.  He dresses in robes rather a
lot.  He used to be one of the most enlightened beings in the
universe--this in fact being his job--by using his omniscient
computer account, Superbrain at Oracle2.
     Astute readers will note this is the name of Matt
DeForrest's omniscient account.  You can begin to see the
difficulties.
     Needless to say, Muck-Luck wants to see Matt dead.  As
Muck-Luck tendsto be one of the sickest, most sadistic mothers ever to be
spawned since Zark Flyby (hey, whatever happened to Zark?) Matt
would certainly not enjoy being made suddenly dead by Muck-Luck.
To aid him in his quest to eliminate Matt DeForrest, Muck-Luck
has access to an Omnidestructive account,
Execution at Destructionvax5.  As the heros of Sabre's plotlines are
STILL trying to destroy Dvax5, this gives Muck-Luck yet another
reason to kill and pillage and maim and burn!!!!!
     To aid him, Itself--the Omnivax core of Destructionvax5--has
also provided him with a Hyperdreadnought--the HyD
Lets_Kill_Matt_DeForrest, with Mordred at Deathcom (formerly
Galahad, a shipboard computer on one of Matt's old ships, which
had been destroyed for which the computer blamed Matt) as an aid.
This HyperDreadnought is currently torturing the T.S. Challenger
II.

     KITTY HITOWERS:  Space Ingenue major at Interstellar
University.  Kitty is very pretty and shows an amazing aptitude
for being a typical Space Ingenue (ie--screams really well, looks
great in jumpsuits, easily terrorized by villains, belligerent
towards every hero or would-be rescuer, and (as could be figured
out from the above) none too bright upstairs.)  Little is known
about her, except that she followed Mark Hyperthrust on an
adventure...which possibly shows a lower Intelligence rating
that even most Space Ingenues manage.

     LUCKY:  The Ship's Cat of the Challenger II.  Lucky was
mutated by a spam-related accident so that he is now six feet at
the shoulder.  Go figure.


Well, that's our merry band of adventurers.  Now, if the
*OTHER* authors of Sfstory would follow suit, we might actually
have a snowball's chance in hell of understanding what is going
on here.  But I wouldn't hold my breath....

***** Received 20:40:21 on 03/14/89, Posting #   125 *****
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Subject:     Wherin some very nasty things happen to some nice machinery
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (B45J at CORNELLA)

     Muck-Luck, ex-enlightened guy and nasty person, possessor of
an evil account that does his evil bidding, horrific force from
beyond the stars, and champion Maj Jongg player, was intently
watching the helpless Challenger II on his viewscreen.  He was
watching it attempt to maneuver, and attempt to break out of the
magnapressor beams, and attempt to shift away from the heat beam
that was eating a hole in the outer hull of the ship.
     He was NOT watching Camelot Command.
     This was a mistake of biblical proportions.
     Suddenly, the various and sundry energy weaponry of Camelot
Command, designed by Muck-Luck himself to make people really wish
they had not decided to attack the artificial sattilite, began to
open fire and hammer the HyperDreadnought
Lets_Kill_Matt_DeForrest, trying to reduce it to particularly
ugly rubble.
     &&Sir,&&  said Mordred, the onboard computer who had his own
reasons to hate Matt DeForrest, paladin and terminally
embarrassed guy, &&We're under attack from Camelot Command!&&
     "I **KNOW** that, you idiot!!!"  shouted Muck-Luck, trying
to steady himself on the chair beside himself as the cannonades
from CamCom rocked him.  "Raise shields, return fire!"
     &&Shields raised, sir.  Sir, a deflector field is blocking
the heat beam!  The Challenger II has not been destroyed!!!&&
     "Of course, this is all the result of Linda's Deus Ex
Machina powers!  Now then, since the computer systems I designed
for Enlightenment Command can't activate on their own, and since
DeForrest stole Enlightenment Command from me, making it Camelot
Command, it stands to reason DeForrest is now on board Camelot
Command, correct?"
     &&Er, whatever you say.&&
     "Right!!!!!!  Concentrate all weapons systems onto the
Sattilite!  Lets blow DeForrest and his damn renegade Omniscience
account straight back to the ruins of Boston!!!!"

     Meanwhile, on the Challenger II, people were slightly
happier with the sudden turn of events.
     "Yaaaaaay!!!!!  Huzzzaaaaaaahhh!!!" said the happy people.

     Well, all right, they didn't quite say 'yay huzzah,' but you
try writing this silly story when the room is thirty degrees, on
a strange computer and your fargin' roommate playing 'Flight Of
The Valkries as loudly as your neighbor's borrowed CD player can
possibly put the damn thing out and see how good YOUR writing
is!!!!!  God Damn it, there are some days when I just have to
wonder why I bother trying to do this damn sh--

     In the author's altiverse, a very pretty young elf began to
give Sabre a really nice backrub.  This calmed him sufficently
and the story was able to continue.

     "Steve!" shouted Linda, who was looking rather relieved (and
quite perky in her skintight science fiction bodysuit--but since
she was a Paladin and quite happily in love with Matt, I wouldn't
even think about trying it, "CamCom just opened fire on the Hyper-
Dreadnought!  They've also activated a concentrated point deflector
field, cutting off the heat beam!  We're saved!!!"
     "Actually, Linda, we're still trapped by magnapressor beams,
and the damage done by the heat beams reduced that section of
armorplating to a few millimeters, so now air pressure's
beginning to make it buckle.  We're hardly saved!" said Steve,
who was not one of those who had shouted Huzzah earlier.
     "I take it the Intern's TARDIS landed safely in CamCom?"
said Ralph.
     "More than likely," said Steve.  Steve began to punch up the
communications systems codes for CamCom.  He then pummelled them
and beat at them until they gave in and established contact with
CamCom.
     There was rather a lot of interference in the signal, but
this was to be expected.  After all, there was this Magnapressor
beam locked on the ship.  Come on, didn't you listen to anything
in High School physics?

     The Elf shifted her massage and offered a very nice drink to
Sabre, relaxing him visibly and making him much happier.

     "Camelot Command here," said Radar Vogel's confident voice.
"SO good to finally see you again, Steve."
     "You too, Sis!  What's happening?"
     "Well, we rescued Trudy from Alecision, and came back here,
to discover the big bad ship trying to cook you.  Well, Matt
wanted to fire all thge weapons but the Intern has a plan, so
we're just softening them up a bit."
    The Bulkhead that lay between the crew of the ship and
harsh, cold, caffine free space made a groaning noise and buckled
further, adding a bit of surface tension (sorry, bad pun) to the
crew.
     "Um, not to rush him or anything, Sis, but do you think the
Intern could whip up this plan, oh, sometime SOON?"
     "I'll check, CamCom out."
     The crew sat for a few minutes, playing a rousing game of
Pictionary.  Linda and Natchwald were in the lead, beating out
both Steve and Lameduck (of course) and Ralph and Lucky (again,
quite obviously) when, just as it seemed certain that a hairline
crack would form on the bulkhead, breaking structural integrity
and causing the entire ship to be shattered by the Magnapressor
beams, exposing the entire crew to the ravages, savages, and
sewage of vacumn (which damn few of them were equipped to deal
with) the Beer-Keg TARDIS of the Intern appeared and cycled open.
     "EVERYBODY GET IN!!!!!" shouted the Intern.  This was rather
a useless thing to shout, as given the above situation, most of
the crew wasn't about to sit around and do nothing when a
rescuing ship appeared.
     As I said, MOST of the crew wouldn't.
     The TARDIS cycled closed and disappeared with the wheezing
engine noise made so popular on Dr. Who.  The Intern was the only
one of the good guys in the TARDIS, therefore preventing any
tearful reunions between Linda and Matt, or Steve and Radar, or
any of the other peoples.  Moments later, the TARDIS appeared inside the
Central Command Center of Camelot Command, while outside the
Challenger II shattered into a few billion pieces.

     Everybody hold a hand on your heart, and intone "did I leave
the water running," in honor of the ship that lauched the entire
Sfstory, which now was microscopic star pizza.

     The TARDIS opened, and Linda ran out.  Matt DeForrest, who
hasn't been in one of these postings for entirly TOO LONG, sprang
from the Command Chair of Camelot Command (which was identical to
the one Captain Kirk used in the Original Star Trek) and the two
embraced, ignoring both the deep blush on Matt's face and the
distant sounding explosions.  The others deTARDISed in a rather
more orderly manner.
     "Situation?" barked out the Intern, who was one of the two
professionals in this room.
     "Unchanged," said Major Trudy Tetwaters, the other
professional.  Trudy was seated at the combination
Communications/Systems scanning console, Radar was at
Engineering, and the Intern sat back down at Weapons, where he
had been before.
     After about three minutes, the Intern said, "Matt, I know
you're Station Commander and all, but could you please break out
of that clinch and get back toi the business of commanding?  I
mean, we DO still have this HyperDreadnought shooting at us, and
trying very hard to kill us."
     Matt and Linda continued on their way to hickey heaven.
     Lameduck was in the corner, absolutly entranced by a food
synthisiser he had managed to make synthisise alchoholic
beverages.
     Steve said "Hello" to Radar and sat in the corner, depressed
about his ship's being turned into astrojunk.
     Lucky began to claw the apolstry.
     The Intern stopped, and made a quick mental count.
     "Where's Natchwald?" he asked.
     Back on the Kill_Matt, Muck-Luck logged onto
Execution at Destructionvax5, his Destruction account.  "NOW THEY
ALL DIE!!!!" He shouted in a very comic fashion.

     WILL THEY ALL DIE?
     WHERE *IS* NATCHWALD?
     WILL MATT AND LINDA EVER STOP KISSING?
     WILL THE INTERN EVER BE STUPID ENOUGH TO SEPERATE THE TWO
FOR ANY LENGTH OF TIME AGAIN?
     WILL THIS FARGIN' PLOTLINE **EVER** END?

     For the answers to these, and reletivly few other questions
of rather no import, check into the very next episode of SFSTORY
CSNOTICE!  Although actually, it isn't CSNOTICE anymore, and
there is that damn imbedded blank to deal with, but you get the
idea.

     Hi Mom.

***** Received 21:01:42 on 03/14/89, Posting #   126 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     An update on Nathan's characters
From:        Nathan Irwin (UD140680 at NDSUVM1)

     Following Sabre's example, I have compiled a list of Sfstory
characters involved with my plotline, and have posted it here.  For
those of you who are new to Sfstory, here's the gang:

     Louie Stevens - former Music theory student at UND (Univ. of North
Dakota), current space adventurer.  After the town of Grand Forks was
kidnapped by aliens, Louie (the sole survivor) joined forces with Bubba
Wojohowitz and Zark Flyby (q.v.) to save its residents.  After doing so,
he joined them on their mission to invade the planet Oonglagaloonga.
Currntly, he is in hyperspace, aboard the HMS Homeward Bound, awaiting
a new plotline.
     Louie is slowly adapting to life as a space adventurer.  He has
learned to pilot a spaceship, and is slowly learning how to get himself
out of a jam (he's already rather good at gettingh himself INTO them).
However, when the experience of a veterabn Sfstory character is called
for, he turns to:

     Bubba Wojohowitz - former student at CUNY, current space adventurer
and free-lance agent of God.  After a prolonged series of Sfstory
misadventurers, which twice resulted in his death, Bubba choose to retire
in Heaven, where he befriended St. Peter.  However, Bubba was soon
abducted by the Author, and given a new plotline.  After teaming up with
Louie and Zark Flyby, Bubba manged to free to citizens of Grand Forks,
Minot, and Jamestown, North Dakota, Bubba halted the Oonglagaloongan
invasion of Earth, and saved Disneyland from destruction.  He, too, is
presently on board the HMS Homeward Bound.
     Bubba is a passive sort.  After wandering about the universe for two
years, and being killed twice, you tend to not get troubled easily.
Bubba is at ease as an adventurer, and is generally able to tolerate
whatever abuses the Authors toss out.  Nonetheless, his goal is to get
back to Heaven, retire, and not get killed anymore.

     Time Captain Zark Flyby - Time Police Officer.  Zark's first mission
was to capture Spamologist Bing von Spleen and bring him to Time Central.
He failed utterly and, as a result, was given a desk job and a promotion.
He was then abducted by the Author for more adventures, much to the
relief of Time Central.  During the course of his adventures, Zark lost
his temper a lot, passed out often, and inadvertantly almost destroyed
the entire Universe.  Upon returning to Time Central, he was given
another promotion, and was appointed Time Police Media Spokesman.  He is
currently in the Time Central Medical Annex, where he is about to
undergo brain surgery to reconnect several of his dormant brain cells
(Since entering the Time Police, he has been running on four).
     Zark has two characteristics: violence and stupidity.  Zark's
favorite passtime is shooting things, and if he can yell a lot while he's
doing, that's all the better.  Left to his own devices, Zark would
probably obliterate anyone and anything that even mildly annoyed him,
which is one of the reasons the Time Police was so eager to recruit him.
However, in spite of his innate hostility, Zark does know how to suck up
to his superiors.  This skill has saved him from court-martial many
times.

     Billy Guardian - former Computer Science student at Univ. of
Wisconsin, space adventurer, and special agent of God.  While studying
Computer science at UW, Billy was asked by God to undertake a quest.
In the course of this cross-country quest, he worked as a shoe repairman,
gas station attendant, and Provisional Military Governor of Fiji (Don't
ask).  While vacationing at Disneyland, Billy was abducted by the Author,
and united with Louie, Bubba, abd Zark.  Since then, he has joined Louie
and Bubba as a crewmember of the HMS Homeward Bound.
     Not much is known about Billy, as the Author only recently tossed
him into the plotline.  However, he IS an outstandingly good mechanic.
Billy's development as a character thus far has been limitted, due to
the fact that he has no idea what is going on.

     Sean Landorian - Time Police Officer and Acting Time Chief.  This
Billy Dee Williams lookalike was a crewmember of the HMS Synchronicity
and, along with Time Agent 357, Ian Lockheed, and Floyd Cobalt, freed
Time Central from the minions of the Destructionvax5 satellite.  After
Ian became involved in another Author's plotline, Sean became Time Chief.
Since then, Sean has been kidnapped by Greez Hyperiok, and rescued by
Time Agent 357 and Omegas (see's Cowboy's plots).  Currently, he is
aboard the HMS Silver Bullet, soaring through space, arguing with Omegas.
     Sean is usually an easy-going sort, however, his experience as
Acting Time Chief has left him a bit prone to temper tantrums.  He is
especially hostile towards Omegas.

     Well, that's it.  A new posting should be on its way (or in your
mailbox) even as you read this!

- Nathan

***** Received 14:37:53 on 03/16/89, Posting #   127 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     Wherein Nathan posts again!!
From:        Nathan Irwin (UD140680 at NDSUVM1)

     The HMS Homeward Bound hurtled through Hyperspace at the speed
of... well, let's just say that is was cruising along rather nicely.

     "What's our heading, Louie?" asked Bubba Wojohowitz, who was
commanding the ship.

     "I don't know." replied Louie Stevens, the ship's navigator.

     "Speed?" asked Bubba.

     "Don't know."

     "Destination?"

     "Search me."

     "Gee, guys, what do all these blinking lights mean?" asked Billy
Guardian, the third crew member of the ship, of his companions.

     "Er, Ummm," stammered Bubba, punching up the 'What do those blinking
lights mean?' sequence on his command console, "Let's see... it means,
'Arbitrary Plot Contrivance approaching.'"

     "Is that GOOD news or BAD news?" asked Billy.

     "Who knows?" Bubba responded.  "Louie, bring us out of Hyperspace,
so we can investigate."

     "Okay, dandy." chirped Louie.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

     Meanwhile, the HMS Silver Bullet was hurtling unguided through
space.  Inside, Temporary Time Chief Sean Landorian and the immortal
Omegas were arguing.

     "This is a Time Police vehicle!" shrieked Sean Landorian.
"Therefore, I will fix the guidance system!"

     "I'm the immortal around here, and I'll fix this the guidance
system!" Omegas bellowed.

     "Will NOT!"

     "Will TOO!"

     "No, you WON'T!"

     "Yes, I WILL!"

     This battle of logic went on for quite some time.  Finally, in
desperation, Sean reached for his Time Police Telechronal Displacement
Blaster, intending to literally blast Omegas into next Tuesday.  However,
using his immortal powers, Omegas turned Sean's blaster into a bunch of
petunias, and summoned a Really Nasty, Zapomatic Electric Sword for
himself.

     "Too bad, worm," bellowed Omegas, "looks like you're gonna get
your chips cashed in!"  With that, he swung his sword directly at Sean's
neck.

     "Oooog." said Sean, who, due to his superior Time Police Advanced
Combat training, fainted.  As a result, Omegas missed him, and plunged
his sword into a bank of electronics.  The resulting power feedback
knocked Omegas out for several minutes.

     Which was really unfortunate, since the HMS Silver Bullet chose that
precise moment to plunge into a supernova.

     Fortunately for Omegas and Sean, the Author had placed an Arbitrary
Plot Contrivance in their path.  As a result, the HMS Silver Bullet and
its occupants were able to pass through the supernova unharmed.  More or
less.

     After passing through the supernova, Omegas and Sean were rudely
awakened when an unidentified object struck their spacecraft.

     "Clunk." said the hull of the HMS Silver Bullet, as it was struck by
the aforementioned object.

     "Groan." groaned Omegas and Sean, as they began searching for
aspirin, so that they might cure their rather intense headaches.

     Suddenly, the ship's airlock cycled open, and three humanoid shapes
lumbered into the bridge.  Unable to summon a blaster, Omegas tried to
use the wreckage of his Electric Sword as a weapon, while Sean attempted
to wave his petunias in a threatening manner.

     Just then, one of the humanoids emerged from the shadows and spoke.
"Hey!  It's Sean Landorian!" exclaimed Louie.

     "And Omegas!" hissed Bubba.

     "Omegas WHO?" asked Billy.

     After a few quick introductions, several off-color jokes, and a few
mind-altering substances, the gang quickly turned to the business at
hand.

     "I hate to interrupt," interrupted Bubba, "but we have to find a
way to seperate our ships.  Otherwise, we'll be adrift in space, and
we'll get sucked into that supernova.  And if THAT happens, I doubt that
the Author will pull our fat out of the fire again."

     "Agreed," agreed Sean, "but our guidance system is shot.  I was just
about to repair it,..."

     "No, *I* was just about to repair it..." interjected Omegas,
whereupon Sean and Omegas began quarreling again.

     "This will never do." muttered Bubba.  Using his superhuman
strength, he pulled a rather large bank of electronics out of the wall,
and clubbed Omegas over the head with it.  Meanwhile, Louie took a Sonic
Crowbar from his flight bag, and beat Sean about the head.  Thus, the
squabble was once again ended, at least temporarily.

     "Now, then," said Bubba, assuming command of the situation, "Since
the Silver Bullet's guidance system is blitzed, and since I've just
trashed half the bridge, I would suggest that we all move over to the
Homeward Bound.  Then, after we seperate the ships, we'll take off in
the HB, and leave this one behind."

     "Nothing doing." retorted Sean.  "This ship is Time Police property,
and Time Police regulation JQ907643.A1.CG67 explicitly states that it is
forbidden to abandon Time Police property."

     "Besides," added Omegas, "it's got one HELL of an automatic bar."

     "All right, then," sighed Bubba, "we'll board the Homeward Bound,
and drag this one behind us.  But first, we have to seperate these
ships."

     And so, using Sonic Crowbars and Spam-antiSpam energi-field
repulsion generators (available at Sears; just $19.97 for a set of three
in mixed colors), our heroes managed to seperate the Homeward Bound from
the Silver Bullet, and vice-versa.  Then, using hyperalloy magnetic
cables, they were able to tow the Silver Bullet behind the Homeward
Bound.

     "Well," said Bubba to Sean, as both ships began to move forward,
"it looks like we'd better be getting you and the Silver Bullet back to
Time Central."

     "Nothing doing." replied Sean.  "I'm not going back there, just to
sit at a desk and shuffle paperwork.  I'm going back into space.  For all
I care, they can let Zark Flyby run the place!"

     "Ditto." said Omegas, polishing his Ray-Bans.  "It would be ultra-
uncool for a party dude such as myself to work for the Time Cops.  Now,
if you'll just excuse me, I have a MAJOR party to crash.  Ciao!"  And
with that, he attempted to teleport away.  And failed.

     "Bogus," he exclaimed, "my immortal powers are gone.  Again."

     "Oy!" exclaimed Billy, who's not really Jewish - he just likes to
say 'Oy!'


WHY DOES BILLY LIKE TO SAY 'OY???'
HAS OMEGAS REALLY LOST HIS POWERS AGAIN???
WHO'S GOING TO RUN TIME CENTRAL FROM NOW ON???
WHAT'S THE GROSS NATIONAL PRODUCT OF ZIMBABWE???

None of the answers to the the above questions will not be appearing in
future non-postings to what may or may not be Sfstory, the story where
we really care about our readers.

***** Received 14:39:56 on 03/16/89, Posting #   128 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     Wherein Skip is discharged from the hospital
From:        Patrick McCoy (enldc8c at buacca)

     Stillness hung over the author's altiverse. Birds chirped and
aligators lazilly did backfloats in the recently re-opened pool. The
air was still and cool as a spring day. The several moons and stars/suns
that various authors had placed in the heavens drifted lazilly through
their erratic orbits as they blithly ignored most of the laws put forth
by Newton, Kepler, and Einstein.
     In the midst of this stillness, a rainbow began to approach.
     In a rather fast manner...
     When the rainbow reached the deck that looked out over all of
creation, it began to spin and shimmer. Then, in a blinding display
of special effects not seen before the fx budget was re-established
following the Black Scorpion Incedent of postings past, the author
known to the SF_Story reading audience as Patrick McCoy returned.
     ++ HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY EVERYONE!!! ++
     The stillness continued. An alligator rolled over. The only
thing that indicated that Pat (that's me) had spoken was a bird began
to whistle the tune "When Irish Eyes are Smiling."
     ++ Thanks, Sweeney. It's good to know that someone's listening. ++
     |-}------- What...(yawn)...what's going on here? -------{-|
     ++ SABRE! YOU'RE BACK!!! ++
     1-}------- So are you. -------{-|
     ++ So I noticed. ++
     |-}------- Where have you been? -------{-|
     ++ Oh, here and there, you know me. I've been writing poetry... ++
Pat's voice trailed off as he got a dreamy look in his eyes.
     |-}------- Oh, no... -------{-|
     ++ Oh, yes! The poetry's been pretty good, too! I've written one
to my sister, one to all those who've been laughed at, one to our
friend Ernestine, and... ++
     |-}------- Pat... -------{-|
     ++ Yes? ++
     |-}------- You're ranting. -------{-|
     ++ So? ++
     |-}------- How many to her? -------{-|
     ++ Only three... ++
     |-}------- OK, OK. Let me get a cup of tea and we can sit down
and talk about her... -------{-|
     Pat waved his hand and his/my copy of the book flew to a table
with the indelible quill pen not far behind and, as Sabre materialized
two cups of Irish Breakfast Tea, the pen began to transcribe...

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

     Intergalactic Admiral Skip Carson yawned and streched as he left
the McCoy Medical Center where he had been recovering following his battle
with the attack drones of the Destructionvax5 Sattelite. It had not
taken Interstellar University's Administration too long to realize that
he had been admitted under the false name of Andy Sommers by Time Police
Captain Ian Lockheed and his Companion Lieutennant Floyd Cobalt.
Granted they should have recognized it earlier than in two months as
there are very few one-legged, dislexic eighty year old men with insurance
plans that are identified soley by number as to protect the Space Hero
from being identified while in the hospital.
     "Prob'ly when the bloody bills came that they checked into it,"
grumbled the aging Intergalactic Admiral.
     It was, as Skip Carson had guessed, when the bills started comming
that the Administration realized that he was being hospitalized. In all
fairness to the Administration of IU, (upon which this author has heaped
gobs o' abuse) they were genuinely concerned about Skip's health. They
even offered to replace his wooden peg-leg with the most advanced bionics
avaliable.
     "Damn fools know nothing about style," grumbled Skip as he got onto
the shuttle to the Pol Student Center where he, like Space Commander Buzz
Williams, lived.
     "Hi, Intergalactic Admiral Carson!" said a perky co-ed as he boarded
the shuttle.
     "Dale Gordon! How are you?"
     "Fine," she responded as she moved over to make room for him to
sit down, "I'm up to my ears in work. I have to defend my thesis next
week. You know how it is."
     "Actually," Skip responded sitting down, "I don't. I'm a Professor
Emeritus because of on-the-job experience. Like your father, I never made
any formal study of the field." He smiled and stroked his beard, "I got
lucky."
     "I wish I could have gotten my Space Heroics degree that way."
     "You'll do fine. I know one or two people on your comittee. You've
got your stuff down fairly well. In between that and the donations your
dad has given," Skip said with a smile and a wink, "you're a shoe-in."
     "Thanks for the vote of confidence," she replied as they arrived at
the Pol Student Center stop.
     "Why not stop up for a drink and a chat?"
     "I'd be gald to, Admiral. It's not every day a girl gets invited
to the Union by a man with your reputation."
     Skip looked at her sly and teasing smile. "Your mother talks much
to much," he grumbled.

DOES DALE"S MOTHER TALK TOO MUCH???
WHAT REPUTATION DOES INTERGALACTIC ADMIRAL CARSON HAVE???
WILL LORD SABRE FREE UP BUZZ AND THE GANG ANY DAY SOON???

This space for rent

***** Received 11:17:54 on 03/17/89, Posting #   129 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     Wherin the battle at Camelot Command heats up!
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (B45J at CORNELLA)

     In deepest space, near the fragments of the one proud, once
humble, once reasonably unemotional Challenger II, a figure
floated.  He looked to be a bizarre mixture of metal and man,
which was actually pretty close, considering he had been put
together by a half-man, half-toaster oven.
     The figure was not, as one might assume, dead.  In fact, he
dealt rather well with space's vacumn.  You see, though he was
still part human, a cyborg respirator would keep those human
parts fed with heat, food, and oxygen for close to fifteen
hundred years before needing a recharge.
     His name was Wilhelm Natchwald, and he was a bionoid
cyberwarrior, called Ultranatch by his closest friends (and well,
by put near everybody else, as well.)  Ultranatch was playing
Altairian Hyperpossum, and he was winning.  Meanwhile, his
infraimaging bioscanners were analyzing the defense fields and
hull integrity of the HyperDreadnought Lets_Kill_Matt_DeForrest,
to find weak points.  He had intentionally not been rescued,
specifically to enable him to attack from surprise.
     He was just about ready.

     In Camelot Command's command center, Matt had, at the news
of Ultranatch's missing condition, stopped kissing Linda,
apologized to Linda, and sat down in the command chair,
indicating to the Intern his reassumption of nominal command, and
with another look directing Linda to the Computer Operations
console.
     Looking back, I realize I had SEVEN different commas,
indicating multiple clauses and a probable run-on sentence.  All
right!
     "All right, Intern, so Natch didn't come over.  What's the
problem?"  Matt actually, if you read the backpostings of
Sfstory nearly as carefully as I have, had never met Natchwald,
and so he didn't feel any special NEED to save him, except of
course, that Matt was a paladin, and paladins are driven to such
things.
     "Wouldn't he have exploded in the vacumn of space?" asked
Radar.  Radar did know Natch, but well, Radar isn't the sort of
person who shed tears over people, unless it was some sort of
bizarre sexual fetish (Radar would try anything once.)
     "No," said Ralph, who knew Natch best, at least his
capabilities, "Ultranatch's bionic enhancement includes piddling
things like space survival."
     "But," said the Intern, "Natch also isn't protected by
Linda's Deus Ex Machina ability, the way the rest of us at least
nominally are."
     "What do you mean?" asked Linda.
     "Well," said Matt, "The Intern had a plan.  If we made
certain the act of saving you, Linda, involved getting you into
the control room, Muck-Luck couldn't just atomize Camelot Command
without your abilities protecting us.  But with Natch out
there...."
     "He's unprotected," said Trudy, "and what's more, we don't
dare fire all of Camelot Command's weapons systems for fear of
hitting him."
     "Oh," said Linda, very very quietly.
     "So now what?" asked Matt, looking more or less at the
Intern.
     The Intern glanced at Trudy, the only other Licensed Space
Hero in the room, and the only other professional.  "Plan two?"
he asked her.
     She nodded.
     "Plan two?  What's plan two?  Why aren't I ever *consulted*
on these things??!!" said Matt rather loudly, but Trudy was
already working the communications panel.

     On board the HyD Lets_Kill_Matt_DeForrest, Muck-Luck the
Malignant had logged into Execution at Destructionvax5.  The female
omnidestructive account purred in his mental ear [[[[[Ready to
kill, oh mighty Muck-Luck!]]]]]
     "Good, Execution!  Load parameters of Camelot Command into
your killfiles!  Once you have the image, let me know!"
     Execution set to work, loading in the size, shape, and
material of every facet of CamCom.
     %%Sir,%% said Mordred at Deathcom, the onboard computer, %We
detect a hailing signal from the Space Station!%%
     "Ignore it!" shouted Muck-Luck.  "Increase bombardment, we
don't want them to suspect I'm going to use Execution on them!"
     Deep on board CamCom, Linda's Deus Ex Machina powers deftly
caused Mordred to disobey Muck-Luck slightly, ascertaining the
identity of the signaller before ignoring it.  The power then
caused Mordred, who ordinarily wouldn't have dared disobeyed
orders from the psychotic commander, to report his finding to
Muck-Luck.
     %%Sir, the signaller is Trudy Tetwaters!%%
     The computer then cringed a computer cringe, expecting
Execution to wipe out his operational systems with a causal
afterthought.
     Nothing happened.
     Slowly, Mordred opened his eyes (actually, activated his
photoreceptors.)
     Muck-Luck had a thoughtful look on his face.
     "Patch her through," he said.
     %%Yessir!%% Said Mordred, who was happy to be alive.
     It is worth noting that, way back when young Trudy was first
introduced as a character in Sfstory, she liked Muck-Luck's name.
She is the first and ONLY being in all time to have this happen.
Muck-Luck therefore has a soft spot for her.
     And you thought the Intern and Trudy weren't SNEAKY??????

     Trudy's face appeared on the screen.  Though a nominally
pretty face, Muck-Luck wouldn't ordinarily be drawn to it.
     This time, he was fixated.
     "MUCKY-duck!!!!!"  She shouted, face all bubbly with glee.
     Back on CamCom, Radar murmured "I think I'm going to be
sick."
     "Well, Hello there, Trudy--how have you been?"
     Trudy's face assumed a petulant look, and got even more
attractive to the ex-enlightened being.  "You never write, you
never call...." she said, in the exact way airheads would to wrap
most males around their fingers.
     The problem was, Trudy was not an airhead--but Muck-Luck was
hardly thinking about that at the moment.
     "Ah, well, that is...I, well, I've been really awfully busy,
Trudles...." Muck-Luck looked sheepish.
     Back on CamCom, the Intern shook his head.  "Must be
demeaning," he whispered to Matt, "for her to speak such
bubbletalk.  Of course, it is an effective smokescreen, to cover
the work of her Omnidesirable account."
     "Yes," Matt murmured.  He couldn't take his eyes off of her.
     Neither could the Intern.
     Nor Steve.
     Nor Ralph.
     Ralph wasn't even HUMAN!
     The whole thing was VERY galling to Radar.
     It was also confusing to Linda.
     *****Desirability factor 15.5,***** announced
Massage at Eroticavm3 to Trudy, who smiled, though she wanted to
throttle Muck-Luck the way most people want to breath, or drink
water after three weeks of dehydration.
     "Well, I might forgive you, if you're nice to me," she
minced, thinking 'increase to twenty--I sure hope the males on
this station have good self-control.'
     "Oh, I'll be nice, I'll be nice," said Muck-Luck, now acting
rather like a puppy in love with a child soaked in meat juice.
     [[[[[NO YOU DON'T, BITCH!!!!!!  Boss, she's using an
Omnidesirable account on you!]]]]] shouted Execution.
     *****Eat hot death, you poor excuse for an Apple II!!!*****
responded an angry Massage.
     *****All right!!  Catfight!!!***** shouted
Superbrain at Oracle2.
     "Superbrain," shouted Matt, "keep out of this!"
     *****Hey, YOU eat hot death, White Boy!  This is gettin'
good!*****
     With considerable effort, and a reasonable amount of
aspirin, Muck-Luck shook off the Eros-effect.
     "Increase to thirty!"  shouted Trudy.
     *****If I do that, every male on CamCom will jump on
you!***** Massage shouted back.
     "Execution, destroy them all!!!!!" shouted Muck-Luck.
     Linda's Deus Ex Machina played its trump card.
     %%Sir,%% shouted Mordred, %%We're under attack by a bionoid
of incredible power!  The Shields are collapsing!!!!%%
     Ultranatch loved surprises.

     DOES MUCK-LUCK APPRECIATE SURPRISES TOO?
     WILL ULTRANATCH BE BIONIC TOAST-ON-A-PLATE?
     WILL TRUDY REMEMBER TO DISENGAGE HER OMNIDESIRABLE ACCOUNT?
     WILL PEOPLE YELL AT ME FOR OBVIOUS SEXISM?

     You decide, you be the judge!  All this week, on SFSTORY!

***** Received 16:00:55 on 03/18/89, Posting #   131 *****
=========================================================================
Subject:     Wherin The battle gets well over half-way finished
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (B45J at CORNELLA)

     Muck-Luck cursed in a rather comic fashion.  This meant instead of
normal swear words escaping his mouth, little symbols like %^$&^* came
out instead.  This caused a lot of anger in Muck-Luck, but since he was
angry to begin with, this didn't have much net effect.
     The reasons Muck-Luck was angry were many.  One--He had just had
a plan to destroy Matt DeForrest (hated enemy) go straight down the
tubes.  Two--Trudy Tetwaters, a woman Muck-Luck had had feelings for,
had just played him for a fool in an attempt to save DeForrest (and,
incidentally, herself and several other people.)  Three--he had just
been attacked by Ultranatch, an incredibly powerful bionoid who was
a little ticked off at Muck-Luck.  Four, his Tax Return had just
come back due to insufficent postage.  Five--he had stubbed his toe.
And finally, six--his underwear was at least three sizes too small.
     "Blast it, Mordred!!!!  Increase power to deflectors!" he shouted.
     %%Deflectors are already at maximum, Sir, and I don't know how
much longer they can hold!%% answered his onboard computer.
     "Execution!" he shouted, "Smoke Camelot Command as ordered!"
     [[[[[No can do, Boss!]]]]] Execution at Destructionvax5 shouted
back.  [[[[[They've raised Anti-Omnipotent Computer Radiation shields!
I could strip them away, but it would take twenty minutes!]]]]]
     "In which time the combine assaults of that bionoid and CamCom
would reduce this ship to rubble!  I understand!" shouted Muck-Luck.*
     There was, all things considered, a whole lotta shouting going
on.
     "All right," said Muck-Luck after a few seconds of thought,
"Start concentrating bombardment onto CamCom.  Only fire Antistarcraft
repeaterblasters towards the Bionoid--while he's working on us,
load his parameters into your Killfiles, Execution--we'll wipe his
molecules out of existance and take care of CamCom afterward!"
     Without comment, Mordred and Execution began to operate as
ordered.  Why is it the bad guys' computers obey without question,
but the good guys get all sorts of grief from them?
     Beats me, I just work here.
     On board the giant artificial sattilite, the heros were staring
at the latest developments.
     "Intern!" shouted Radar, at the scanning station, "Natchwald
just attacked the HyperDreadnought!  He's got their attention!"
     "Um....." said Matt, in the Command chair.
     "Excellent!" shouted the Intern.  "I'll load his position into
the armament computers and program them to disregard him as a target!
Then we can unleash the full arsenal of the station against him!  Trudy,
engage the Anti-OCR defensive screens!"
     "Guys, I--" said Matt.
     "If I do that, Matt's Omniscient account won't be able to give
us tactical information!" shouted Trudy.
     "Guys, could you--" said Matt.
     "Do it anyway!  There's limited Info Superbrain could give us
anyhow, and we don't want that Dvax5 account nuking us!" said the
Intern.
     "Now look here--" said Matt.
     "Engaged," reported Trudy.
     "But--" shouted Matt.
     "The HyperDreadnought's started hitting us with everything,"
said Radar, flush of excitement blotting out fear.  "Deflectors at 87%
and holding!  Only Antistarcraft repeaters are going for Natch!"
     "I--" said Matt.
     "Right!  Computers are programmed!  I'm going to engage the main
weapons systems!  Linda, take over Radar's position along with computer
control!  Radar, get down to the Hyperstar reactor and monitor
Engineering, in case of Emergancy!" commanded the Intern, a smile
appearing on his face as they took the offensive.
     "NOW WAIT A BLOODY MINUTE!!!!!"  shouted Matt, slamming his
hand onto his contol chair's armrest and giving himself a nasty bruise.
"IN CASE YOU PEOPLE HAVE FORGOTTEN, *I* AM IN COMMAND OF THIS STATION
AND THIS SITUATION!!  NOW NO ONE MAKE *ONE MORE BLOODY MOVE* UNTIL I
ORDER IT!!!!!  UNDERSTOOD?????!!!!!"
     Silence fell onto the station, as people looked at Matt, a bit
startled.
     Matt's anger subsided.  As people kept looking at him, he began
to blush a bit.
     "Orders, sir?" said the Intern, mildly.
     "Um...." Matt's Blush intensified.  "Well, um...proceed with the
battle plan as the Intern has suggested...."
     "Yes sir," said Trudy, grinning at Matt's discomfort a bit.  The
boy *was* a hero, and a paladin--but just hadn't been trained to respond
well in these situations.  Not like a licensed Space Hero, anyway.
     The powerful Photonic Shock cannons of Camelot Command began
to fire devestating salvo after devestating salvo, while Positronic
lasers sliced into the Lets_Kill_Matt_DeForrest's shields.  Ultranatch
noticed the new offensive with some satisfaction, and continued to
deftly avoid the antistarcraft repeaters with minimal difficulty.
Those that did hit bounced off his bioniclly enhanced hide.  He shot
up the defensive shields of the HyperDreadnought with his Ultideath-to-all
blasters, then cut loose with a few Antimatter cannonades.  His combat
sensors revealed intense weakening of said shields, and Ultranatch flew
at high speeds to exploit these weaknesses.
    His sensors did not detect the OCR from Execution deftly loading
his every specification and parameter into its Killfiles.
     [[[[[Upload completed, Muck-Luck hon,]]]]] purred Execution into
Muck-Luck's psychic ear.
     "Fine, Nuke him," said Muck-Luck, who didn't like the reports
coming in from the battle.
     Suddenly, Ultranatch felt queasy.  As his stomacvh had been
removed when he had been bioniclly enhanced, this bothered him.  At the
possible second, he realised what had happened, but by then, he couldn't
do anything.
     His automatic systems had realised what was happening a few seconds
earlier, however, and kicked in.
     All any of the observers could see, though, was Natch's abrupt
disappearance.
     "Ha HA!" shouted Muck-Luck.
    "My God," murmered Linda, "they got Wilhelm."

     DID THEY GET WILHEM?
     IF NOT, WHERE IS HE?
     WILL THIS BATTLE *EVER* END?
     WELL, HOW ABOUT THIS STUPID PLOTLINE?????

     When next we meet in Sfstory, all may (or may not) be revealed.

***** Received 17:17:50 on 03/18/89, Posting #   132 *****