STC slippage

* AWOOOGA! AWOOOGA! *

"Proximity alert! Incoming at twentytwo degrees mark nine" the navigator shouted over the alarm.

"Hard to starboard. Full thrusters, lieutenant" the plummy British voice commanded, using the proper 'leftenant' pronounciation. Then the captain turned to me. "Display" he ordered.

"Aye, Sir" I complied, bringing an image of the interloper into view within the holographic display at the centre of the bridge.

"What the deuce is that, lieutenant-commander?" the captain asked.

"Unknown, Sir. A private cruiser, maybe?" My fingers flicked across the interface bringing up details of the unknown vessel from the ongoing intelligence scans. "Hull pennant identifies it as one SS Garland. Registry SNSN1MPLB."

The captain pursed his thin lips as he watched the vessel on the display passing beneath our ship. "I don't recognise the configuration - Whose is it?"

"It doesn't match any known classes or recorded ship sightings, Sir. Although, there are some similarities with fictional ships."

"If I may interrupt, Sirs" the science officer politely interjected. "Sensors are detecting Cusp interface residue on the hull."

"Cusp?! Here?" I blurted out in shock. The captain narrowed his eyes at my outburst.

The science officer looked up from her console again. "I am detecting two other distinct Cusp trails on parallel headings to the unknown vessel."

"Lieutenant-Commander, would you hail that thing."

"Yes, Sir." I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as the hail went out.

"Sorry fellas" a female voice suddenly emanated from the speakers. It had a distinct Australian accent. "Shit! Nearly got you just now. Good job you're pretty manoeuvrable, eh?"

I winced in recognition, feeling chunks rising up my throat.

"Indeed" the captain replied, completely unamused. "I am Captain Bronson of the HMS Iceni. And you are?"

"T-Bird" the disembodied voice answered. "Listen, I don't suppose you've seen a Cher-class STC cruiser go by, have you?"

Captain Bronson looked at me quizzically and mouthed "Cher-class?" I rolled my eyes. "Young lady" he started to say before T-Bird chimed in again.

"Crap. IDV's gonna kill me. He's probably facing off Tim as we speak."

Before I could try and explain what was going on to my captain, the navigator piped up. "We have another two incoming contacts, Sir, on one ninetyseven mark two oh four."

"Display." Complying, I changed the holographic image to show the positions of the STC cruisers in relation to our ship, and magnified the two incoming cruisers in a seperate display. They were attacking each other.

"Captain! Some kind of weapon system has activated on the SS Garland" the science officer warned.

"T-Bird" the captain barked. "What's going on?"

"I have to go to IDV's aid. His SS Judith Hann is only a science ship, he'll need help to defeat Tim's battleship SS Autumn Reeser." Some scrabbling and flicking of switches could be heard over the open comm channel. "I've just gone to pink alert and armed my Cillian Murphy Bee Sting Torpedo Cannons - You'd better clear the area" T-Bird answered. "Spooling up Dolly Parton Drive..."

We watched the display as the SS Garland pulled away from us and headed towards the incoming ships. The sound of her drive reverberated over the comm: Va Va VOOM!

"Monitor those ships but keep us out of their firing range" Captain Bronson said trying hard not to let the bewilderment he felt become evident to his crew.

I managed to tap into the comm systems of the other two ships so we could listen in as they continued their dog fight.

"You'll never penetrate my launch bay, IDV! Engaging Panic at the Discotron Weapons!"

"Ha! That might have worked against my last ship, the Joanna Lumley, but this is a Cher-class cruiser. Those waves of intense sound are easily neutralised."

"Damn it."

"Here. Have some of your own medicine - Let's see how you fare against my Vocoder Beam!"

"Arrrggh! My ears! Raising Boob Deflectors and increasing Sexiness."

"Ohhh... So sexy... Must. Resist."

"Mwah hah hah hah ha- What the...?"

"Agent B. Hive was one of the best, you diabolical fiend!"

"T-Bird?!"

"The very same. Cillian Murphy Bee Sting Torpedoes away!"

"Yikes! Evasive action!" We watched as the SS Autumn Reeser spiralled away from the incoming SS Garland, attempting to dodge the subtle but expensive torpedoes. "Launching Agatha Christie Counter Measures." A techno-organic swarm of old ladies suddenly deployed from the launch tubes of the spaceworn battleship, most were destroyed by the SS Garland's torpedoes, but some made their way to the hulls of both the Garland and the Judith Hann.

"Eeeek!" T-Bird shrieked. "The Miss Marples are investigating my hull for weaknesses and picking away at it with their Gossip Beams. Mayday! Mayday!"

"Hang on, T-Bird! I'm coming." The Judith Hann, it's regenerative plastic shielding easily thwarting the Miss Marples that had landed on it, swung towards the listing SS Garland. "I'm deploying Tea and Cake. That should take care of the Miss Marples but you might want to shake your ship a couple of times when they're distracted - They'll fall and break their hips, rendering them ineffective."

"Will do. Thanks IDV."

"No, thank you for coming to my aid. I could never penetrate Tim's launch bay without you. Speaking of which, where is he?"

"Oh no! It looks like he's coming about for a strafeing run!"

"Not to worry, my main disruptor is fully charged. He won't know what's hit him!"

"You don't mean-?"

"Yes. Firing Fabulous Ray!"

A beam of pink glittering light erupted from the Judith Hann and enveloped the approaching Autumn Reeser.

"What the-?" Tim stuttered over the comm. "All my status displays and view screens have changed - They're showing online shopping... Oooh! Look at those shoes! I must have them. And I wonder if that shirt comes in my size? Can I carry off pink? That skinny fit sweater would show off my awesome pecs. * gasp * Sexy trainers!"

As Tim tailed off, his ship drifting aimlessly, T-Bird and IDV crowed in victory. Tractor beams took the SS Autumn Reeser in tow and all three ships moved off, disappearing over a Cusp Interface.

Love at first sight

"I can't reach it."

"Well, stretch a bit more."

"I've stretched as much as I can without my bones popping out of their sockets!"

"Can't you just, you know, wriggle in a bit further?"

There was silence for a moment. Then a very exasperated Conrad sighed. "Oh, for Heavens sakes..." He started wriggling. But backwards. Soon, he had manoeuvred his way out from the access compartment and turned to face his colleague.

Scott looked hopefully at Conrad's flushed face. "Did you-" was all he managed to say before Conrad cut him down with a withering glare.

"No. I did not" he stated, getting to his feet and towering over Scott who was still on his hands and knees. Conrad looked down his not-too-large, but straight, nose at the communications technician also scrabbling to his feet. "Send in the drones" he ordered half in jest, turning away from Scott and waving a hand dismissively over his right shoulder as he headed for the biological operations station.

Just as he reached the smooth, clear crystal interface, his comm beeped in his ear. Cocking his head slightly upwards and to the right, a habit that most users of sub-dermal communications affected, Conrad answered it. "This is Folkard. Go ahead."

"Sir" it was the young twist/spin operator. "The Engineer has arrived."

Oh, bugger! Conrad immediately thought. All that fart-arsing about under the comms console for Scott has made me lose track of time. Shit. However, he recovered his composure to answer. "Very good. I'll be there shortly. Folkard out" and he cut the connection.

Striding across the small bridge on his long legs took mere seconds. Conrad paused at the rear doors and nudged Scott in the the back with his elbow as he stood by the comms console. "Look after things here, Starovski. And don't break anything else." Permitting himself a small grin at Scott's expense, Conrad left the bridge. Then allowed the panic to take over.



He clattered down the stairs to the next level, his mind racing with ways to apologise for being late. The new commander and engineer had been specifically picked by the admiralty for this mission, for this ship. The fact that none of the few crew already aboard had any real idea what the mission was to entail, had caused rumour and gossip to be rife for the last few days. Anticipation and nerves were at a high. The unknown quantity of their commander and other senior officers, including the engineer, had even got to Conrad. Normally calm and collected, he'd been swept up in the tension and secrecy of this assignment. The added pressure of being the ranking officer on board for the last three days hadn't helped either. He couldn't wait to pass the responsibility to those that wanted it.

In his haste, and wrapped up in his thoughts, Conrad unconsciously projected his astral form from his body. It sped through the small ship leaving his physical body behind, but still linked to it by an unseen, but shimmering tether, rather like an umbilical cord. Reaching the twist/spin room, Conrad passed through the unopened doors. It was only then, after the automatic doors had been unresponsive to him, having had no approaching physical form to sense, that he realised what he had done. He drifted to a halt by the figure at the control console. Immediately, he started. The figure wasn't Midshipman Matuzevicius, the slight, boyish looking, red haired girl from engineering. Instead, it was a man. A tall, though not as tall as himself, man wearing the uniform of the Royal Fleet. A commander. The Engineer. He must have dismissed Matuzevicius as she was nowhere to be seen. Conrad stared at the Engineer, taking in the details of his masculine features: His short, straight, brown-black hair, cut a little severely around his delicate-looking elfin ears, tapered at the nape of his thick neck; His dark-tanned skin with a curious red hue to it - Not that of a blush, or from exertion, but more of a natural pigment; And his strong smooth nose with its slightly flared nostrils.

Conrad gasped silently in his astral form, or so he thought. The man's head snapped around and faced him, but his eyes, with their deep black irises, didn't focus on him. Conrad was riveted to the spot. This man, the Engineer, was so very handsome. His slightly narrowed eyes were framed by thick but elegant dark eyebrows above, and a very faint dusting of barely noticeable red-brown freckles on his sculpted cheekbones below. His skin was smooth, unblemished, except for a small scar at the outer edge of his left eye and the beginnings of five-o'clock-shadow. Impulses travelled back and forth along Conrad's shining astral umbilicus, conveying and confirming emotional stimuli from this encounter.

The engineer turned his attention back to the crystal console, his lips pursing slightly as he manipulated the interface. Rather delicately despite his large hands, Conrad thought as he watched, like a concert pianist he'd once seen giving an impromptu performance in a hotel bar. The lights around the platform opposite dimmed as the twist/spin generator engaged. Silently but brightly and oh so quickly, a female figure appeared to uncurl from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Conrad never tired of witnessing the marvel of this instantaneous transportation. A second later, and it was all over. A commander, The Commander, grinned at the Engineer and almost leapt from the platform towards him, her pretty features, haloed by fine blonde hair, alight with joy. The Engineer swept her up in his arms, her infectious grin causing him to reciprocate, his lips pulling apart in a broad grin exposing his strong just off-white teeth, including curiously pointed and elongated canines and lateral incisors. Together, they radiated their love for each other.

Conrad felt the pull of his physical body as it reached the doors outside the room. He was glad of the distraction. The dark grey doors parted with a small pneumatic sigh. This slight interruption was all that was needed for the Commander and the Engineer to disengage from each other, their smiles disintegrating, their demeanours falling easily to those of serious professionals. It was as if the last few seconds had never existed.

As he stepped into the room, the physical and the astral merging, Conrad, as befitting a witch, did not salute. Instead he inclined his head in a small but courteous bow. In the milliseconds spent with his head directed at the floor, Conrad let his heart fall. He raised his head with a well practised smile, not insincere but nevertheless a facade.

"Welcome aboard, Sirs."