Tales of the Fantastic!

On bare feet Jillian Starburst walked into the mess. The femme fatal must have only just woken up as her hair was less then perfect and her red robe being a bit crooked exposing her left colarbone. Setting down her research tablet she reached up to grab a coffee cup from the cupboard, moving more then a few around, until she found one exceptable to her, a comemorative mug from the Great Space Quake two years prior.

Walking over and pouring her mug full of hot liquid she let out a great yawn and looked around. "Mm, morning Captain." She looked around some more as she took the sip of her coffee. Her eyes grew a bit wider at the taste, being not what she expected. "Right then," she muttered then noticed the little robot. Something wasn't right at all.

Setting her coffee down, the blonde walked over to the robot. "How is it going Spanner?" The reply was the same the captain had gotten before she had been concious, and even before she was in the mess. She hugged the robot, even if it was a little uncomfortable. "You let me know if you need anything, alright?"

Upon releasing the little robot, she turned to look at Captain Clarke, straightenng her robe finally. "What?" She asked, expecting a comment after her actions just now and maybe being a bit defensive before knowing if she needed to be.
 
Holly woke up with her normal cranky attitude, but ten times worse than normal.

"Ahh Jimmie, my aching head!"

After all the excitement from their Magravore adventure, Holly plum forgotten to take care of her weekly chore - caring for her little pet.

That morning, she woke up to a splitting migraine, and vertigo causing her steps to trip over themselves as if she's tilted too many shot glasses. That nasty little Psynix was a priceless treasure, a gift from the Torradians; she was honored to have the privilege of caring for.... Ah, who is she trying to kid; she was getting tired of the thing, but she has no choice in this matter. Her Psynix made her job easier, allowing her to speak fluently and pick up strange languages most could hardly pronounce, but the side-effects for its around-the-clock care was becoming too much for her to take every week.

"I've got to set a feeding schedule for you, Psy..." she mumbled to herself, holding the back of her neck as she dragged herself out of bed. Slipping her toes in her fluffy red house shoes, and tossing a housecoat over her short sleeper, Holly slowly made her way to the bathroom in her dorm-like room she shared with another Star Gun.

She flipped on the light once she was inside, and screamed at the top of her lungs at what she saw. Her eyes were bloodshot and dark rings shadowed underneath them. And what was worse, the whole back of her neck where her Psynix was latched on her spine was horribly black and blue. He wasn't a happy little camper. He kept her up most of the night, and even when she got up to feed him those disgusting slime fruits, he was still agitated enough to keep her away from her beauty sleep.

"AHGH, there's not enough Avon made to cover that up!"

Dropping her hair from its ponytail to cover her neck, Holly added a bit of concealer under her eyes to make herself look half way decent - enough to pass for okay. When she was satisfied, she tightened her housecoat and headed out of her room, slowly feeling the hallway walls to guide her towards the kitchen. The bright morning light caused her sensitive eyes to ache, which didn't help anything... Hell, it was like she had a freaking hang-over, which could get her in trouble with the Captain if he'd thought she'd broke that rule again.

Slipping into the kitchen, seeing that she wasn't the early bird today, Holly stood taller and sashayed her way towards the refrigerator.

"Morning, everyone," she announced in her typical chipper tone, biting her lower lip against the truth as she turned to look into the fridge, pulling out a bowl that held those nasty Torradian fruits. Taking another pralix from the bowl, she closed the door and fished for a clean bowl and coffee mug from the cabinet. She took her time, more time than normal, to fix herself a cup of coffee and to slice up her fruit in bite-size pieces she could manage; smothering them in Hershey's chocolate before she settled down clumsily in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Wondering why the Captain and Jillian was standing around Spanner, Holly looked up to listen to what they were talking about. Spanner looked sad. It was not normal for their trusted mascot to be so down, but there he was, head lowered in the newspaper he held.

Taking a quick bite of the pralix, folding her face against the flavor and texture as she chewed before chasing it with two large swallows of hot coffee, Holly called out, "Hey, what's going on with the little guy? Spanner, did someone mix up your happy circuits with your sad circuits again?"

Usually, that would make him pop up a witty come-back or a funny joke, but from the look she was given it was clear that he wasn't in that kind of mood.

 
"Gee whiz! You guys ought to try these Beta House Breakfast Milkshakes! They sure pack a wallop o' taste!"

Billy Terrason was walking into the room with a dark brown bomber jacket and some jet black pants, possessing two golden stripes, whose pant-legs covered a pair of brand new sneakers he'd bought. In his soft, youthful hands was the steel container that held the Beta House fast food brand's new, and popular breakfast item. In his other was the latest issue of 'Solarman,' the champion of solar radiation, who in this issue, happened to be standing in the middle of an intersection, mutants ahead, humans behind, robots to the right, and aliens to the left, as part of the special event he'd been following the last few months in each issue.

Just as he was about to greet the others, he had came in to hear Spanner had lost his 'father,' his original creator. Dampened would have been a very minor word to describe the loss of Terrason's boyish enthusiasm, as he took a seat, and tried his hand at consoling their metallic mascot, after Jillian and Holly said their words.

"Just brought in all your usuals from the shop!" He announced, taking out a few various copies of the latest periodicals on the table, magazines of several different topics to please the different types of reader founded among the StarGuns.

"I've got a catalog for Jillian here, and something about some new rides for Holly, something she'll want to see. Something about the future of the public transportation system? As if we weren't already so gosh darned futuristic all-a-rooney. I've got some other stuff, including the Captain's usual rags, as well as some assorted reads that'll be going to the coffee table after everything else has been cleared off."

And then, digging into the bomber jacket once more...

"Hey, Spans, ole' buddy ole' pal. I'm sorry the big guy joined the choir invisible, but I'm sure wherever he's headed, he'll still be watching all of his 'bots. If it means anything, I got you some info-chips. No longer will y'have to worry about tearing up the magazines… One of 'em is supposed to be for that new-fangled brawling sport. Some kinda inter-species wrestling or something?"

Billy set the items down on the side away from the other items he brought in, hoping Spanner would appreciate the sentiment. It wouldn't help him get over Brightflaw so quickly, but he sure hoped this would help him get his mind off of it for a moment.
 
When Billy announced the deliveries he'd had from the shop, Holly whistled out to him, regretting the act, "Toss it over here, Billy. I've been dying to see the new huvs they've just released..."

Diving into the magazine, she overheard what Billy had told Spanner, which took her by surprise. So, that's why he's so down in the gears, she thought as she stood up and made her way over to the others circling him.

"Oh Spanner, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that had happened. Are you going to be okay?" She pat the little robot on the shoulder, wondering if she should set up the chess board to get his mind off of it all.
 
dawn_zpse097b302.jpg

Spanners lowered the newspaper, looking up at Holly, then over at Billy. His large white eyes dilated, circuits whirred; his head tilted.

"I have wrestling enough... in my heart... Mister Terrason... and there is no info-chip for this sadness... this heavy sadness..."

He drooped his head, then placed the newspaper down on the dining table with the other magazines. His tinny, electric voice was buzzing with anguish. "Robots have no soul... NO SOUL... how can Father watch over us when he is energy and we are but metal..."

Spanners moved to the window, looking out over Alphatron city, where cars were zipping by and buildings were glittering. He raised both clamp-like hands, emulating theatrical despair. "...Frail, soulless metal...!"

Captain Clarke raised an eyebrow at the robot's emotions, then sipped his coffee. He took a seat at the table opposite Billy and picked up the Engineer's Digest, his favourite periodical about energy research. There was a picture of his father on the cover... again... standing outside one of the newly-refurbished Alphatron power stations. "Yes, well, anyway, I heard from the lab boys at 4am. They're almost finished testing our blood samples. If all's well we should be out of quarantine by lunchtime."

He put his feet up on another chair, flicking through the magazine. A free scratch-and-sniff plutonium perfume sample dropped out as he did so. "First order of business is to research one of those crashed saucers. I want to know how those Magra-chaps jammed our technology, so we can reverse-engineer our own counter-jammer for the next time they get frisky."

He glanced over the magazine at Jillian. "So no fancy date for you tonight, Jill. You're on a double shift."

In the background, Spanners put his arm against the window and leant his head on it, closing his eyes.


 
"No soul?" Jillian whispered. She never gave much thought to the concept of an afterlife, after all there was so much living to be had. As she watched the others settle into their chairs to read, she found herself thinking, really thinking about death and what it held. It was the type of thinking that didn't lead you really anywhere, so she perfered not thinking about it. It was the type of thing everyone had an opinion on, so she perfered not talking about it.

Picking up the fashion catalouge she puased and lifted an eyebrow at Clarke. "You don't think I can get in a date between lunch and a midnight screening while getting my work done? I could, with the right date." She smiled brightly at him, then with a pearly laugh she walked away. "I'm a good girl."

Walking over to the large window, she sat down, curling her legs to the side and leaning against the window still, looking up at the little robot. "I don't know much about death and souls and afterlife, but I do know that talking about the good things of a person who passed helps. Want to tell me about your father until we are out of quaranine?" It didn't matter what Spanners told her, or so she thought. She was just offering the little robit a chance to let go of some of it's grief. She didn't need the Heart of Kohex to understand that.
 
John got up with a blistering headache. He didn't remember much about the fight after the Magrovores had appeared. Gingerly pushing himself into a sitting position he took stock of his surroundings.

The Stargun Infirmary.

The computer next to him blinked on. "Good morning Mr. Carpenter" it stated, "It is good that you are awake. Currently all Stargun Defenders are under quarantine pending blood analysis. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause."

"Thanks Doc" John replied. The Stargun infirmary had a state of the line AI installed, it was efficient, polite, and John couldn't break it. "Do you know what happened? Last I remember was the UFO in the residential area going down."

Doc was quite for a few seconds, it then chimed out "According to surveillance footage, you were attacked by two Magravore drones. A psychic blast from one knocked you off the third story of the building you were in, it also triggered a gravity shell. Your co-workers at the construction company helped retrieve you from the rubble. You have been unconscious for 10 hours 26 minutes."

Standing up, John's head started pulsing with pain. "Can you give me something to help with this headache?" He asked.

"Certainly," Doc replied, a small capsule dropped out of the dispenser by the door. "All defenders are currently congregating in the mess hall. I would suggest joining them before you begin your daily training."

"Thanks Doc," John said as he picked up the capsule. He walked down to the mess.

Walking in he quickly grabbed a glass of water, downed the pain killers, and waited for someone to make a comment about him being out cold.
 
Captain Clarke lowered his magazine.

"Hey John, you were out cold."

He raised the magazine again.

Meanwhile, Spanners arched his back, clamp-like hands raising as he prepared to narrate.


<table><tr><td>
"Ernest Brightflaw was Father. Once a brilliant neurosurgeon, he saw that Humanity was becoming more machine-like, losing its empathy, its ability to feel. The effect was irreversible - a quirk of evolution he could not - DARE NOT - oppose!

So, at the start of the 22nd Century, Father arrived at a solution. To bridge the gap. To make machines more human, in case one day our places would be switched in the cosmiiiiiic ooooorder!​
​

<tr><td>
The governments of Earth did not like Father's idea. So he came here, to Alphatron Prime, and found Omni-Corps, the greatest robo-manufacturer in history. With the finest colonial minds and the wisdom of the Ferati aliens, he constructed ever-greater generations of Ancilobots - droids to serve every household need.​
​
​

<tr><td>
From the Raternator 2000 to the Sushibot 400, we were a family. Father cared for us like his own children, and programmed us to dream of electric sheep. ELECTRIC SHEEEEP!​
​
​

<img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/4a59dc02-07ce-4495-900f-3c5e7253668a.jpg width=24% align=left><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/cf9f84c6-e460-4e01-9b05-61bd25a47518.jpg width=24% align=left><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/c034c66a-20a1-4d7d-8f47-baa7b6505c58.jpg width=24% align=left><img src=http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l81/Asmodeus1845/Stories/44ac2035-ac5e-422a-b4e7-6ebd6eb53dec.jpg width=24% align=left>

<tr><td>
It was something that made the Board of Directors unhappy. They told Father he was wasting money on idle emotions, money better spent on lazer attachments and jetpacks. Father tried to make them understand, that a robot needs a heart before it can wield a thermic lance. But his dream was never realised. And now he is dead. DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAD!"​
</table>
Captain Clarke lowered his magazine.

"Steady there, Spanners. I had to reboot my last Helper Bot when he developed Tourettes."

He raised the magazine again.

And Spanners, his story ended, made a little bloopy sound and rested his head against the window.
 
Holly settled back down in her seat, finished her god awful breakfast, and began flipping through her magazine before Spanner began his monologue. Most of the history of Omni-Corp she was aware of, since the majority of Alpha Motors' Alpha Chauffeurs that they sell with their luxury hovers are build by them. But, all the information about his father, especially his troubles on Earth, was new to her. But, like all things, life comes to an end, but legacies will live on.

Seeing that the morning's dramatic conversation was over, and John slipping through the kitchen like a greaser, Holly stood up to put her used dishes in the sink. "Hey Captain, perhaps that saucer that I put down is still at the park in the Brownstone Residential area. It didn't sustain too much damage. With John's help, we can get it here, lickety split!"

After being cooped-up all that time, she just wanted to get out and breath some fresh air. That might help her headache more if she did.
 
Jillian looked over and smirked as Jon walked in. "Morning Sleeping Beauty," she teased. There was no malice in her joke, just the type of banter one would have with someone they had a good working relationship with. Even though the StarGun Squad was equally mixed with men and women, it was still a boys club in some psychological ways and while the type of jest would have never occured to Jillian at her day job, here it just built comradery. Then again, if Jillian thought about it more, nearly getting killed with each other, and saving each others skins on a regular basis created much deeper binds, then someone you argued with on how to catalogue the era of the Demek Dynasty since they tried, and failed, to use time travel to prolong their reign.

As Spanners begain his story, Jillian pulled her attention back to the little robot. She nodded occassionally to let the little robot know she was paying attention and when it was done she put a hand on it's shoulder region. "It seems to me that you all are almost there, and even without him, you dream, you have emotions, well, isn't that partly what a heart does?" She didn't bring up the biological function because well that would be just silly. She gave the bot a sympathetic grin. "Maybe you don't need the Board to make his last wish realized?"

The conversation was depressing, and Jillian was glad to get a break from it. "Holly, are you suggesting a joy ride?"
 
Jillian had returned to the kitchen after talking to Spanner. Hopefully, she helped the little guy pep up. It would be a complete joykill to have the robot rolling around here depressed in his own way. He was no fun that way.

"Holly, are you suggesting a joy ride?"

"Well, of course!" Holly smiled as she stretched her arms above her head. "Anything than sitting around here any longer than I should. If that means to get to work after they clear us, then so be it! And if I can hitch a ride on one of those bucket of bolts, it saves me having to charge up my bike..." She rubbed her temple slightly before picking up her cup of coffee and magazine again.

"Geezy, those lab boys must really have their hands full with our blood samples, or they're just lagging around playing cards while we sit here waiting..." She was a bit antsy. Going out for a smoke was out of the question right now, in more ways than one. She wouldn't feel so nerved if she had, at least, five hours of full sleep last night.

Holly flipped through her magazine, hoping an exciting article would catch her interest long enough to calm her sudden attention disorder.


 
John sat down near Holly, flinching at Spanner's narration every time he went into a high pitched wine. Taking a drink from his coffee he turned to Spanner "Easy there pal. Every death is a sad event, but blowing a circuit doesn't help anyone. I find the best thing is to work on what the man would have wanted, I'm sure there are plenty of people on Alphatron who would help continue Dr. Brightflaw's work."

John then turned to Holly.

"I could help get that saucer out of the ground and to the lab, don't know about any 'joy riding' though," John remarked, making a quotation sign with his fingers.

"Hey boy wonder, feel like working out for once? Putting on some actual muscle?" He jabbed at Billy, grabbing a newspaper and opening it up.
 
"I could help get that saucer out of the ground and to the lab, don't know about any 'joy riding' though," John remarked, making a quotation sign with his fingers.

Holly dropped her magazine with a gasp, "What? You mean I can sit on the top while you carry it? Ahh, that would of been fun." She was being silly, of course, but the idea of standing on top of such a huge craft while it was carted off did sound like fun - like surfing on the world's largest surf board. But, it wouldn't be as fun as attempting to restart the craft herself, but she would need a mechanic for that. She knew one of her waves damaged the engines.

She rubbed her temple again while suppressing a huge yawn, then lifted the magazine before her once more, "Well, you know me, just trying to make the most out of another interesting day at work."
 
"…Why the heck did I do that? Now I just feel like a complete jerk. Offering two-bit reads to a bot that's going through some serious feels."

Billy left the things he'd brought on the table, before sending a small drone out to survey the area outside for anything interesting. While sending the drone down the street however, he couldn't help but notice there was a glove. And it was near an open manhole cover of all things?…

"Gosh… Who'd leave a glove going down into that nasty rat-retreat?" He mused. Just as he was about to poke his head through, a beam seemed to light up. The local exterminators were up to their usual business!"

"Blue Blazes!" Exclaimed Billy. "It's the Under-Cleaners! The meanest sons o' guns to ever grasp a particle accelerator! Usually they handle small time underground matters, being versed in all that geological whosits!… I just wonder what exactly they're up to firing protonic whips in the sewers!…"

For a brief moment, Billy scratched his chin in contemplation...

"It'd do me good to get away from all that death business here at base, fooey to the quarantine. And I'd still be helping out the planet's defenses by stomping out whatever sinister super-fiend is running about our planetary plumbing!… But then again, it's the cleaners' work, and I'd hate to be a Buttinsky. No one likes a Buttinsky!"

And with that, he reversed the movements of the drone off to some other street, maybe towards his other job. For a brief moment, a dark green hand with dark brown fur on it reached out of the open manhole, before being pulled back down by some unknown force...
 
It was 12:19 when Doctor Neumann arrived with the blood samples. He always arrived on the nineteenth minute of any hour in which you were expecting him. Some said this was his true alien enhancement, and that the number 19 was somehow significant to his super-intelligence. Others just thought his watch was broken.

"Your bills of health aren't clean, but they're the right type of dirty."

He dropped a bag of hypodermic needles next to John. Each one was bent. The medics had taken thirty one attempts to puncture his skin to get the blood sample. A bill was included in the bag.

"Miss Starburst, your blood is looking top rate. There was a slight delay in processing it, though. One of the medics got some in his eye and suffered auto-erotic asphyxiation. We're not sure why. Science is a difficult mistress."

Jillian blinked and took the sheet of test results from the doctor.

"Billy, you've tested positive for ADHD, Tourettes, dyslexia and autism. So no change there." The doctor slapped Billy on the back, causing him to crash his drone into the next street sign.

"Holly, we questioned four hundred and nineteen of your blood cells, and 80% assured us they were feeling fine. The others weren't in a chatty mood." He handed a bag to Holly which included her test notes and a printout image of her blood-slides. The sample had taken the shape of a smiley face.

"And Captain Clarke, your metaserotonin has dropped to under 5%."

"That's fine, Doc."

"We're worried you may suffer another..."

"It's fine."

"But unless you sleep you'll..."

"I'm FINE, Doc." The Captain snatched the test results from Neumann and tucked them briskly into his shirt pocket. "Well, since we're all in the green we best get to the crash site. If that saucer has information on the Magravores' plans, we need to find it. Stat. Let's go to work."

Everyone began getting up and pouring their coffee into flasks. Meanwhile, over by the window, no one took much notice of Spanners. The robot was staring into the distance, and as the StarGun Heroes departed his little hands curled into angry fists.

"Would anyone like a powdered hamburger?" asked Doctor Neumann.

"NO." said everyone in unison as they headed to the hangar.

 
A typical report for most of the staff from Dr. Neumann, especially the back and forth debate between him and the Captain. It was a disturbing situation, one that could clear an entire States' room of people like flicking a light switch. Holly kept her magazine sitting high before her face, but her dark tell-tale eyes cut over the newspaper pages to watch the scene...glancing at Jill, Billy, and John in succession.

The look on her face was riddled with concern, but - like everyone else - they knew the topic to be taboo. Still, it was like a child hearing that Daddy's stomped toe was turning into pneumonia and he only had five days to live... Well, to Holly at least, that's how she felt. If anything happened to Captain Clark, what would happen to the StarGun's? There just was no existence without the other.

After speeding through getting dressed, and one quick puff for the road (hopefully unnoticed), Holly sat in her regular seat in the company vehicle, sending directions to the driver on which park the space craft was located. When they arrived, the craft still looked lifeless and untouched sitting in the large lake. "Well, looks like the neighborhood folks took care to not tamper with it," she noted. "If we're lucky, someone's home..." Her hand rested on the ray gun strapped to her thigh. After being cooped up at the headquarters for hours, Holly was looking for some sort of blood-rushing activity; either than, or a stiff drink.
 
John got out of the vehicle shaking his head about the receipt he had gotten from Doctor Neumann. "Those scientist types always know how to get blood from a stone, yet they can't figure out how to make a needle to draw my blood." Giving a half hearted laugh he moved to the crashed saucer, putting a hand against it he gave it a push, measuring the weight.

"I can move it, but I can't promise it won't fall apart." Pulling a scanner out of his pocket he placed it against the metal of the saucer. After a few seconds the scanner game a small beep. "Well, looks good over here, still," John gently tossed the scanner to Billy, "can you check the top just to be sure Billy?"

John then took a few steps back, while keeping one hand on the ship and the other he rested on his head. He reached out with his radar sense, looking for anything moving within the abandoned ship. He felt the numbness that arrived just before the pain of using this particular enhancement.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back