Star Bores 2

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"So, guys, we're it?" Frazil asked them.

"Let's wait a while. Maybe some more will join us." Supe responded, looking intently around the crowd, but all he could see was the backs of blue, red, and yellow uniforms, most of them seated now, filling out their new contract forms.

"So quick to turn their backs on their oaths. Idiots!" Benbones said, in disgust.

"Why did you stay, Roadie-Wan?" Frazil asked the Jedi.

"I wish to take no part in piracy, however, that is not the reason I stayed." He turned to face her, hands folded into the front of his robes. "First and foremost, we need to rescue King Road Guy. Once we have him, I believe it should be no difficult matter to find a ride off of this planet. They will do anything for money here, you know, or even the promise of money." He smiled slyly. "Second, since we have arrived I have sensed the presence of ... something ... I have not felt in a very long time. I hope you three do not mind, but once we find our ride, I will need to be making a side trip to the ****-bah system."

Supe turned to face him, and said, enthusiastically, "to see Master Gore-da?"

"Yes. I think he might be able to make sense of all this. Come, let's go. No one else will be joining us."

The four walked out the wide double doors, past the rental car booths, and out of the spaceport into the wide, cavernous underground world of Earth.

 
"Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!" A small voice came running up behind them as they exited.

"Padawan! I thought you were going to stay with sschell!?" Roadie-Wan turned to face kevo.

"Please, Master Roadie-Wan! Take me with you!"

"Kevo, I have trained you well. Misguided as he may be, sschell will need a Jedi aboard to keep him and the Chucktown out of trouble. Besides, I need you there. Don't lose this!" Roadie-Wan handed kevo his Jedi communicator. "But never let anyone see you using it!"

A tear rolled down kevo's cheek. "Oh, Master! I don't know if I'm ready for this!"

"Honestly, neither am I. But things have gotten weird, kevo. And when things get weird, kevo..."

"I know, I know... the weird turn pro."

"Correct!" Roadie-Wan bowed. "May The Farce be with you, Jedi Knight Kevo!"

Kevo beamed with pride. "Jedi Knight?!"

"Well, technically I still have to clear this with Master Windex, and there is still that matter of the trashed hotel room on Alderan, but... yes! Jedi Knight!"

Kevo turned and ran back toward the Immigration room. "You won't regret this, Roadie-Wan! I promise you!"

"I kind of doubt that!" Roadie-Wan said quietly, through his forced smile.

 
They emerged from the last set of doors onto a sidewalk alongside a busy roadway. Electric hoverbuses and hovertaxis zipped by in both directions. A stony ceiling could be seen high above them, with bright, flourescent lights suspended from it, that cast everything in a pale-greenish, flickering, yet evenly-lit glare. The air smelled of burning plastic, rotting garbage, and human wastes. All four began coughing and gagging immediately, and the beeping of low oxygen alarms rang from their sensor badges.

"Jebus Christ! This is awful!" Benbones reached into his medical bag and pulled out a small respirator, and handed one to each of the others.

"That's better." Said Supe, somewhat muffled through the polymer mask.

"TAXI!" Roadie-Wan flagged down a yellow hovercar, which stopped swiftly, and opened a door. "Can you take us to Reverse Engineering Partners Limited, kind sir?"

"Get in." came the gruff reply, from a big man seated at the controls.

 
While the Chucktown's crew were busy filling out their contracts for Acquisitions Service, Speedy Ox was explaining to Captain sschell the process for filling the vacancies in his command.

"So, I get to interview and choose the prisoners myself, right?" asked sschell. Flyer looked on; sschell had asked the conn officer to fill in as Executive Officer in the absence of Supe.

"Captain sschell," Speedy Ox was no longer quite so friendly, without the influence of Roadie-Wan's Jedi mind control. "For the last fudging time. They are not 'prisoners' they are 'debtors'."

"Yeah, but they're incarcerated in 'Debtor's Prison', so doesn't that make them 'Prisoners'?"

"Tell you what, how bout you just shut the fudge up and follow me. I've already posted the vacancies on their site, and let's see..." Speedy Ox pulled out a small communicator device. "You already have over four thousand applicants."

"For three jobs!?"

"Four! We're replacing your Jedi, as well."

"You have Jedis in prison?"

"Debtor's Prison! There's a difference, dammit!"

sshcell and Flyer followed Speedy Ox outside the room, through a series of winding, concrete corridors, and finally into a massive parking garage. Speedy Ox pulled out a set of keys and pressed a button. A hovercar halfway down the nearest row beeped and flashed its hazards.

"That's my baby, right there!" Speedy Ox smiled with pride. "You guys are lucky I'm letting you ride with me. I've only had her for three days!"

Flyer walked around behind the aerodynamic-looking, candy-apple red vehicle. "Wilheld Motors Camaro... is this a good car?"

Speedy Ox stopped and looked up at him, irritated. "Good car!? What the fudge are you talking about! This is a kick-*** car! You won't believe the ***** this car is going to be getting me!" He sat in the drivers seat and put the keys in the ignition. "Listen to that power!" He revved the electric motor, letting out an ear-piercing whine. "Eh?"

 
They cruised quietly out of the parking garage and out onto the main highway.

"This baby rocks, huh?" Speedy Ox looked at them with obvious pride.

"Oh, yeah." sschell humored him, while looking outside at the rock ceilings and pale fluorescent lighting that illuminated the highway leaving the airport. "Is everything underground here?"

"Fudge yeah! There's barely any atmosphere up top anymore. Things rock down here, anyway!" Speedy Ox tapped on the steering wheel and turned up the music.

"What is that we're listening to?" yelled sschell.

"Classical music, man! Classical! This here is Justin Bieber!"

sschell looked back at Flyer. Flyer grimaced in pain. The spaceport highway spilled onto a major arterial, and they merged with the heavy traffic. They were in a much large cavern now, and gray concrete buildings could be seen on both sides of the road, many of them brightly lit with neon signs, but obscured by the heavy smog.

"The air quality in here doesn't seem too good..." sschell shouted.

Speedy Ox turned the volume down. "Yeah, but this baby's got its own oxygen generation unit! I'm tellin you, you are NOT going to believe the ***** I will be getting in this thing!" He gave a little air-guitar flourish on the steering wheel. "Besides, this is the low-class district. You work in management, and you can move up into one of the middle-class caverns. The rent includes oxygen! These poor suckers out here get to breath our exhaust! Ha ha! Maybe if you guys do well in acquisitions, you can qualify for an apartment in a lower middle class neighborhood, maybe even straight middle class, like me!"

"You're all class, that's for sure, Speedy Ox!"

 
The car turned off at an exit and headed toward a brightly illuminated red and Yellow sign. "McWilheld's?" sschell asked, confused.

"Yeah." Speedy Ox slowed and turned into the parking lot. "I'm not buying, just so you know! This is just where the top applicant for replacement Jedi happens to be working."

"Wait, what?"

Speedy Ox had already parked and was out the door, walking very quickly toward the entrance to McWilheld's. A wave of foul-smelling, smoky air filled the Camaro. "Jebus!" sschell coughed, followed by Flyer. "Hurry up!" He opened the passenger door and rushed for the entrance, leaving Flyer struggling for breath, trying to fold the passenger seat forward so he could exit.

Speedy Ox was already talking to the McWilheld's manager at the orders counter when they entered. He motioned to them to follow him around to the rear of the establishment, into the doors marked for restrooms, and then through a greasy door marked "Employees Only." The passed by a bank of deep fryers, and then through a stainless steel door into the manager's cramped office. The manager was waiting for them there.

"Just wait here, and I'll go unlock him and bring him to you."

Speedy Ox, sschell, and Flyer took seats in the office and looked around. There was nothing but a desk, four chairs, a dirty couch, a file cabinet, and a calendar on the wall that showed a picture of a bikini-clad woman walking on a white sandy beach.

"Willy World Tropical Paradise" Flyer read the calendar. "What's that?"

"That," responded Speedy Ox, "is where I will be going next February!" He pointed to himself proudly. "All I need is 120 more acquisitions, and at the rate I'm going, that's in the bag!"

The door opened and the McWilheld's manager entered, leading a uniformed fry cook by a set of handcuffs. He sat the fry cook down on the dirty couch, extended the chain, and locked it to a steel eyebolt on the floor.

 
"Dude, what's with the mask?" sschell laughed.

"It's just his thing." Answered the manager, with a dismissive wave of his hand. The fry cook wore a heavy, black, rubbery-looking mask with what looked like two small, pointy ears on top. His eyes glared silently from two holes just large enough to allow him to see.

"Is he?" sschell hesitated, and directed his question to the fry cook. "Are you wearing black makeup around your eyes?" The fry cook stared back, expressionless. "I mean, I only ask because you're mouth, um, area is totally exposed and shows that you're a white guy. Doesn't that ruin the effect for you?"

The fry cook did not reply, but stared, unblinking, back at sschell.

Speedy Ox cleared his throat and opened the folder the manager had handed to him. "This is The Dark Knight. Dark Knight, this is Captain sschell and ... " he looked at Flyer, hesitating.

"Lt. Commander Flyer. Pleasure." Flyer extended his hand. The Dark Knight shook it, and turned to shake sschell's hands as well.

"Good! So you are a Jedi!" the Dark Knight stared back, somewhat quizically. "So, what are you in here for?" sschell laughed.

"Damages." The Dark Knight replied, emotionless.

"Huh?"

"He trashed an entire office building." Explained the McWilheld's manager. "So now, Mr. 'Hero,'" he paused for sarcastic effect, making quotation gestures in the air, "gets to work for McWilheld's for the next, what is it now? Twenty years?"

The Dark Knight's eyes had never left sschell. "Where is your starship headed?"

sschell paused. "Um..." he looked at Speedy Ox.

"That's classified. Acquisitions." Speedy Ox turned his gaze back to his papers.

"Pirates, huh?" The Dark Knight straightened. "Go to hell!"

"It will reduce your sentence to two years." Answered Speedy Ox, handing a contract to him, which the Dark Knight signed without further comment or question.

(p. 20, post 976)

 
"Not much company, is he?" chuckled Speedy Ox, as they re-entered the freeway from the on-ramp. The Dark Knight sat stiffly in the back seat, saying nothing, his hands still cuffed in front of him.

"Where to now, Speedy?" Asked sschell.

"They've already chosen a replacement for your X.O. We're going to go pick him up."

"What? I thought you said I was going to get to choose?" sschell asked, confused.

"No, I said you would get to choose your Jedi."

"But I didn't choose my Jedi, you just handed the guy the contract before I even had a chance to say anything!"

"Well, you didn't object, did you?" Speedy Ox turned up the Justin Bieber to drown out any further conversation. sschell looked out the window, as they passed a seemingly endless ghetto of stained, gray concrete buildings and neon signs. He saw several that read "24 Hour Pawn", a few that read "Checks Cashed Here", dozens of bars, and a few "Girls Girls Girls".

Speedy exited from the elevated freeway again and descended into the slums. The lower-level streets were filled with pedestrians from an obviously lower class of society than they had seen at McWilheld's, which admittedly was not very high to begin with. The streets appeared to be lined with cardboard boxes that people were actively living in. People in rags, obvious prostitutes, and low-class street gangsters seemed to be the sole residents of this area.

They passed by several pawn shops, strip clubs, and check cashing establishments before the trash thinned out a bit, and gradually a few pedestrians could be seen wearing cleaner clothes. A few even wore respirators and small oxygen tanks.

"Here's the place." Speedy pulled to the curb in front of a neon sign that read 'The Captain's Lounge.' "Careful with your wallets." He opened the door and rushed through the front door of the bar, leaving sschell and Flyer struggling to get out of the Camaro behind him again. The Dark Knight followed silently.

 
The inside of the bar was dim and filled with cigarette smoke, but the air quality was significantly better than outside. The decor was tacky; dark red, dirty velvet cushions on deep, private booths, dingy brass rails, chipped marble tabletops. A spiral staricase with a tarnished brass rail led to several booths lining a darkened, unused balcony. There were only a few customers. An older man polished beer mugs behind the bar. He looked up and smiled as they walked in.

"Dark Knight! Great to see you! How did you get away?!"

"Worley." The Dark Knight acknowledged him and moved silently to the bar and sat down, putting his shackled hands in front of him.

Speedy Ox slapped The Dark Knight across his shoulders with the file he held in his hands. "Hey! I'm not buying anything!"

sschell had been about to sit down, but remained standing after the warning. The bartender extended his arm across the bar.

"Captain Worley! I'd offer you a drink myself, but I still owe too much..." He held his left hand up in the air, revealing the long cable attached to the stainless steelf wrist cuff.

"Captain sschell!" sschell smiled and shook his hand. "This is Lt. Commander Flyer, our conn officer." Flyer shook his hand.

A voice came from the darkness at the end of the bar. "Put whatever they want on my tab, Admiral."

 
"Yes, sir, Mr. President!" Captain Worley, retired Vice Admiral, immediately set to work pouring each of his guests a glass of fine Scotch.

Speedy Ox slapped his file on the bar angrily. "None for me, thanks. I don't accept handouts from tyrants!" He sneered, and glared at the man at the end of the bar.

A flame appeared in the darkness where the man sat, momentarily reflecting off the two small lenses of the man's glasses. He then stood and stepped into the light, revealing an aging face, and walked slowly up and put a hand on Speedy's shoulder.

"Now, now, Speedy. No need to be so testy! Worley, get this man his favorite anyway." Worley nodded and reached into the refrigerator under the bar, then poured a pink, frozen concoction into a tall glass, inserted an umbrella and a cherry on a plastic sword, and handed it to Speedy.

The man with the glasses stepped around behind them and took The Dark Knight's hand. "Good to see you, DK! I hope you take this assignment. I know everything associated with Wilheldburton is crap, but you need to get out of that fast food ******** before you kill the manager."

"Yeah, I know. I've already accepted." The Dark Knight sat back down and lifted his scotch.

The man in the glasses held his hand out for sschell, next. "The name's Dleg, friend."

sschell turned and shook his hand. "Captain James T. Sschell! Say, why did he call you 'Mr. President'? I thought this was an anarcho-capitalist planet, ruled only by the free market? That's what Speedy told me, anyway."

"Free market! Ha! There is no such thing!" Dleg took a seat at an empty stool between him and Flyer. "Nope. Never worked. I mean, I truly believe Wilheld genuinely thought it would, but it didn't." Dleg took a draft from his cigarette and motioned towards Captain Worley, who reached under the counter and then handed him a cold, green bottle of beer labled 'Williken's'. "Sorry, I suppose none of this makes any sense. I'll try to explain it as briefly as possible. Close your ears, Speedy." Dleg and Worley laughed, and then he began to tell sschell and Flyer the history of Earth.

 
He explained to them the story of the inter-dimensional rift that had resulted in the destruction of his former country and the creation of a new universe called Middle West. With Worley's help, he then told the story of how Worley's ship, the USS Clinton, had taken back the country and then how he had unified the entire planet of Earth under one government, which had only been made possible because of the shock the inhabitants of the Earth had fallen into upon learning that the Earth had been cut loose from it's gravitational bond with their home star; a tragic side effect of the temporo-spacial shifts caused by the string accelerator that had been used to close off a third universe, inhabited by an evil being and an equally evil artificial intelligence.

He explained how loosened trade regulations had allowed a former war hero to build a corporation so vast that it became impossible for any other private entity to compete, and how this monopoly had eventually dominated politics and bombarded public opinion to the point that the people of Earth willingly voted to end all government and hand over control to private corporations.

"So that's Wilheldburton Holdings?" sschell asked.

"Yes. They own everything, now. There were a number of competitors, but no one could resist the buy-out deals Wilheld offered. He just had too much money."

"But... How did this planet become a pirate planet, you know, able to actually move around like a ship? How did you guys come up with Warp Drive? I see no signs that your civilization is advanced enough to have come up with that on your own. Did you capture a Spacefleet command ship? Or were you guys somewhere out here on the Outer Rim to begin with?"

"Well, that's the really interesting thing about all of this!" Dleg set his beer down and extinguished his cigarette. "The Earth can barely even propel itself - all our propulsion, and all our power comes purely from the radioactive decay of the planet's core. That's hardly enough to even move us at what you call 'sub-warp' speeds. No. The way we do it is through the string accelerator technology I explained earlier. That's how Wilheld made his initial fortune."

"Huh?"

"The Earth moves around through space..." Dleg paused. "... and time...." he paused again and smiled "and universes. We're not even from your universe. By our reference points, you guys exist in a place that is far, far away, and long, long ago." He laughed, and Worley joined in.

 
sschell stared back. "I need to smoke something. I'm assuming that's legal here, right? I mean, you guys don't have any laws around here."

Dleg leaned back. "Well, sure! Everything is legal here! Worley there can set you up with whatever you want."

"Hey hey hey!" Speedy Ox put his umbrella drink down. "There's certainly no laws against anything here, but your contract prohibits you from partaking of any number of narcotics identified under subpart FF of your employment terms. You're in a sensitive position, operating expensive and dangerous equipment. You fail a hair scan, you're in violation of your contract and you're off to debtor's prison!"

"Geeze, this place is just loads of fun!" Sschell stared back at Speedy. "What's the freaking point of all that chaos outside, if you aren't even free to smoke a joint once in a while?!"

"Hey, fudge you, you socialist prick!" Speedy Ox stood and jabbed his fingers into his chest. "I don't pay any taxes. Yep! That's right! Every penny I make is mine! So what if I have to accept a few responsibilities in order to have a decent job? Tell me, sschell, how much of your paycheck do you get to take home with you, huh?"

sschell snickered. "Uh, all of it?" Flyer, Dleg, and Worley laughed.

"That's not what I meant! How much do your oppressive, socialist overlords take from your check in taxes?"

"Oh, I don't know. I think it's around 50%."

"Ah ha!" Speedy pointed his finger back at sschell, wide eyed. "You know how much money is taken out of my check in taxes? Zero! Zilch! Nada! Not a penny of my hard earned money goes to support all those worthless poor fudgers you saw outside who won't get off their *** and work! How much of your taxes goes to support the poor, sschell, huh? Just take a guess!"

"Uh, we don't have any poor people where I come from." Flyer looked over and nodded in agreement.

"Fudging socialists! Of course not! You're paying for those fudgers to live a nice comfortable, worthless life, all on your fitty cents! I guess a sucker is born every minute!"

"Honestly, Speedy, everyone on Croissant works. Everyone goes to school, everyone gets top notch health care, it's really quite nice. Well worth the taxes, in my opinion."

"Ha! Socialists! Just imagine what you could do, sschell, with that 50% or whatever they take from you!"

"What do you do with all your extra pay, Speedy?" sschell asked, genuinely interested.

"Whatever I damn well please! You saw my ride! That's just one example!"

"Who pays for the roads?"

"Tolls. I just have them deducted from my paycheck." Speedy eyed him suspiciously.

"How about the oxygen in your middle class neighborhood?"

"That's included in my rent!"

"And what about the cost of the lighting, the tunnels, the construction of these caverns?"

"There's a tunneling fee that's deducted from my paycheck, the lighting surcharge on my electrical bill...." Speedy turned back to the bar and took his drink in hand. "Fudge you sschell. I see where you're going with this. It's totally different than a tax. I pay only for what I use."

"Really? What about all those worthless, lazy *******s outside? Are they paying tunneling fees? Lighting fees?"

"Okay, Okay!" Dleg stepped in to break it up. "How about another round? That's not against anyone's contract. Even yours, Speedy. Besides, don't you want to hear about how we all ended up underground, and pillaging your way through the universe?"

 
"Actually, no." Sschell put down his glass and stood. "I mean, I would love to, but maybe some other time. We need to get going, right Speedy?"

Everyone else stood. Speedy reached across the bar and unlocked Captain Worley's handcuffs.

 
"That guy's nuts!" said Flyer, as they pulled away from the curb in Speedy's Camaro, the Dark Knight and Captain Worley now in the back seat.

"Tell me about it!" laughed Speedy. Suddenly, the car let out a loud "beep!" and returned to the curb and shut itself off. "What the fudge! What?" Speedy turned the ingnition and flipped switches, but nothing happened. The dash display suddenly turned red and flashed "DEFAULT!" Speedy threw both hands up. "Well that's just fudging great! How in the fudge!?"

"What's up, Speedy?" Asked sschell, but Speedy was already up and rushing for the door of the Captain's Lounge again. sschell gagged on the sour outside air and rushed behind him, again leaving Flyer stuck in the back seat, frantically attempting to fold the seat so he could exit.

sschell entered the Bar to hear Dleg laughing his *** off, alone at the bar. Speedy Ox had his cell phone out and was talking animatedly. "That's not possible! It was set up for automatic deduction!" Flyer, Worley, and The Dark Knight stumbled in behind sschell, coughing.

"My what!? My student loans?! I paid those off!" Speedy gripped his hair in one hand, hodling the phone in the other. "Third grade!? Third fudging grade!!?? That's not possible! I-" He stopped talking for a moment. "I see. Well, could I-" He had stopped pulling his hair. "Oh come on! All I need is one paycheck, you can't-" He sat on a bar stool and listened as the woman from the First Bank of Wilheld explained to him the reasons she could not forward his debt to his paycheck, and how the Bank was repossessing his Camaro, and how he was now in default on his loans and there was no way he could possibly afford to pay them back now, not on a branch assistant manager's salary.

 
"We're never going to get into space at this rate..." complained sschell, as he sat at the bar and accepted another drink from Worley.

"Hey now, it can't be that bad, Speedy." Worley handed Speedy Ox another pink umbrella drink, which he immediately chugged.

"I'm going with you!"

sschell spit his scotch out. "What!? You don't know how to do anything useful on a starship!"

"I can use this Crackberry, I can be your new communications officer!" Speedy held up his cell phone.

"Well, there's a lot more to Comms than just using the phone!" sschell thought, "there's uh, um, well..." Flyer whispered in sschell's ear. "The comms officer is the Captain's *****! Hey! Dammit, Flyer! I mean, the comms officer takes care of all the stuff that I can't- I mean, I don't have time, to do! Like, answering calls to Spacefleet! Like scheduling the maintenance crews! Like entering the log data! There's ton's of stuff!"

"I can do that! Seriously! You've got to get me off this hell-hole! Or Ship's Doctor! I can do that!"

"No! OK, fine! You can come along as comms officer! But how the hell are we going to get back to the ship now? You don't even have a car!"

 
"Let's just take a taxi," Speedy Ox said, dejected.

"Now you're the one who's nuts!" Dleg pulled out a key ring and jangled it in the air. "I'll give you guys a ride. Wilheld Cab is notorious for abusing riders who don't have cash, or even worse, attempt to ride on credit when in default."

 
"You will accept Republic Credits. We are free to go now." Roadie-Wan waved his hand across the face of the taxi driver.

"I will accept Republic credits. You are free to go now." The dazed driver then drove off, leaving Roadie-Wan, Frazil, Supe, and benbones standing in front of the security checkpoint at the main parking lot entrance to Reverse Engineering, Inc. They had removed their respirators now that they were in more of a tech business zone, which obviously had enough money to cover better air quality and lighting. Reverse Engineering, Inc., was a sprawling complex of glass-walled buildings, surrounded by rolling, astro-turf covered lawns and fake trees. A 15-foot, wrought iron security fence, topped every 100 feet with cameras and gun mounts, surrounded the facility. Two body-armored guards eyed them from the security hut, and readied their automatic rifles.

"What's your business here!?" One of the guards called out the challenge.

"Your company mistakenly took one of our, um, alien friends, and we're here to get him back!" Called Roadie-Wan from the curb, afraid to approach any closer. Two additional security guards approached from behind the hut, weapons half-raised.

"Wait, wait, guys!" One of the guards in the shack lowered his weapon and motioned the other guards back. "I know these dudes! They're from the Trekkie convention downtown! Ha ha! Nice costumes!" He stepped out of the shack and motioned them closer. "You're here for-"

Roadie-Wan interrupted, waving his hand in front of his face. "We are free to enter."

"You are free to enter." The security guard waved them through, a dazed expression on his face.

They walked as a tight group down the long, fake-landscaped walkway toward the nearest glass building. When they had gone far enough to ensure they would not be heard, Supe whispered angrily to Roadie-Wan. "Dude! How many times do you think you can get away with that Jedi mind trick ****!? It's like it's the only damn trick you know!"

Roadie-Wan waved him off. "Eh. Just leave the negotiations to me, Supe. It's always worked before, hasn't it?"

They entered and found themselves in a huge, glass-enclosed space. A large, stainless-steel sign read "Reverse Engineering, Incorporated - World Headquarters" A reception desk was located below the sign, but Roadie Wan headed straight toward the elevators to the right of the desk. Men and women in tasteful business attire walked around them in all directions, and armed security guards stood watch in several locations.

"Excuse me, sir, but may I help you?" A man in a red vest and I.D. badge had walked up briskly behind them.

"You will tell us the location where the captured alien life forms are held." Roadie-Wan waved his hand, and the man responded:

"I will tell you where the captured alien life forms are held." And stared blankly, at first, but slowly creased his forehead in confusion. Roadie Wan waited a moment, but the man said nothing else.

"Where are the captured alien life forms held?" Roadie Wan tried again.

"Where are the captured alien life forms held...." Then man looked even more confused, but did not offer any further information.

"****... let's try a different approach. I will take you to the captured alien life forms!" Roadie Wan persisted.

"****, let's, uh, I will take you to, uh, what did you say?" The man was totally confused now. Two security guards had walked up in the meantime, and stood some distance away, 180 degrees apart from Roadie-Wan.

"What's happening here?! Where's your I.D.cards!?" One of the guards asked gruffly.

Roadie-Wan turned to him and waved his hand, "You will - "

The other guard promptly tazed Roadie-Wan in the back, sending him quivering to the floor. Five other guards ran up and cuffed Roadie-Wan and his three companions, and led them swiftly away.

 
"I'm awfully sorry about the way you've been treated." An older man in a coat and tie entered the holding cell. He was very fit looking, and fished a key from his pocket and began removing Roadie-Wan's handcuffs. "You'll have to excuse us. We're new here in the Galaxy, and most of our people don't know about Jedis or Spacefleet."

He finished unlocking the cuffs and dropped them to the floor, and then held out his hand. "Name's Sapper! I'm the President of Reverse Engineering Incorporated, and I take full responsibility for all of this. Please, if you will, join me in my office for a drink. Your Spacefleet companions are already in there."

Roadie-Wan stood, slowly. "Ow! Criminy! Why did your people have to taze me?!"

"Again, I'm sorry about that. But they were getting mighty tired of your mind trick stuff. You know, that can be pretty irritating, especially to a cop-type personality. If I may be so bold as to offer some advice, I'd suggest you save that only for people you aren't going to have to walk past again to get out."

"Point taken."

 
Roadie Wan followed Sapper down a corridor, up an elevator, and into a massive, luxurious penthouse. Comfortable couches and chairs were scattered about, creating many areas where people could have intimate discussions. A fully staffed bar was located in the middle of this area, and the windows, on all sides, looked out on an incredible view of a tropical ocean at sunset on one side, and a tall, vegetated island on the other.

"Where are we?" Roadie Wan felt disoriented.

"Oh, this is just our Board Room. Well, not technically a Board Room anymore, since we no longer have a Board." Sapper led him to the bar. Frazil, Supe, and benbones sat stiffly at a nearby settee, between the bar and the windows.

"No, I mean, why is there an ocean out there, and an atmoshpere?"

"Oh, that! That's just the view program." Sapper reached for a remote control at a corner of the bar, while the bartender prepared their drinks. He pressed a button and the windows suddenly grew dark, slowly revealing the dim cavern roof just above them, and the artificially lit and landscaped parking lot below. He pushed the button again, and returned to the tropical sunset.

The bartender handed a mixed drink to Roadie Wan. "Oh, no thank you. Jedi's don't drink."

"Yeah, right!" Laughed Sapper. "What's all that weed the security boys found in your robes?"

"Well, that's not ... Hey!" Roadie Wan felt his pockets. "Where's my Swiss Army Saber?!"

Sapper chuckled. "Yes, that's a very interesting item you had with you. I'm particularly intrigued by the quantum toothpick. Don't worry, I'm having it reverse engineered by my own personal staff. We should have it back to you soon, provided my boys can figure out how to put it back together again!" He laughed.

"Hey! Give it back! You know, I made that thing myself, when I was twelve, at Jedi camp!"

 
"Calm down, we'll take good care of it!" Sapper walked around and sat in a plush chair facing the two couches that held Frazil, Supe, and benbones.

"Yeah, just like you took care of Road Guy?" benbones asked, sarcastically.

"What happened to Road Guy? What have you done with him?" Roadie Wan asked, taking a seat on another chair. A model of a large, strange ship topped with what looked like a treadmill adorned the coffee table between the chairs and the couches.

"The Gerbil?" Sapper chuckled. "The Gerbil will be fine." He crossed his legs and sipped from his drink. "He's really a fascinating species. Capabilities vastly beyond our ordinary Earth gerbils. He's a good candidate for weaponization, you know."

"Weaponization!" benbones flushed. "This is insanity! Gerbils are dangerous enough as it is! Only a madman would-"

Supe cut him off. "Benbones, if you please, let me handle this." He turned back to Sapper. "Gerbils are a Class Z hazardous alien species, and breeding and or cloning are prohibited activities under the Hamsteridium Convention -"

"You guys just don't seem to get it." Sapper chuckled again. "We're not from your Galactic Union, or whatever you call it. We are not a party to your treaties or conventions. That doesn't mean we will weaponize the Gerbil, but we want to retain the option." Sapper leaned forward. "What with you guys roaming the galaxy, destroying entire planets and such."

"That wasn't us!" Roadie Wan protested.

"As far your Galactic Union is concerned, it was!" Sapper chuckled again and sat back in his chair. "Here, see for yourself." Sapper pressed another button on the remote he had carried with him from the bar. A portion of the window facing the couches suddenly became a monitor, displaying a cable news program.

 

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