The Track of the Pocket Miner
Page 2
Ill Met In Darkness
"You call this a starship?" The Eli ranted, "This is nothing more than an old bus. You expect all eleven of us and yourself to spend four days cramped into this tub?"
"Well beggars can hardly be choosers. Would you rather stay here." The Fabian slid the door open. I'm lifting off in three minutes whether you are coming or not.
Four Days in a Sardine Can
"Dammit, Tuibb, I swear, if you fart again, I'll kill you. By the dugs of the moon goddess even my helmet's gas filters are useless against your farts." Wimdit shook the sleep from his eyes and looked around, "Where is my helmet? This is not funny! Who has my helmet?"
The armored door to the pilots compartment opened with a hiss. "Calm down, Wim, you'll bust a blood vessel." Vlad the Fabian, stepped into the crowded cabin, an Eli helmet in his hand. "I had to make sure your helmet com could communicate with the ol' Nightmare." He casually tossed the helmet to the big Eli. "I had to upgrade your operating system to Windows 4400. I hope you don't mind."
"Does it work?"
Wimdit clapped the helmet on and fastened the mask. "Ya, dats good. I'm gettin' the full tactical display and the input from the ship."
"Britttt" came the sound of a fart from the back of the cabin. "Oh!" The Fabian wrinkled his nose and made waving motions with his hands. "It is pretty rank in here all right."
"Whad ya expec?" Honebead took one more swipe up the barrel of his grenade launcher and dropped the oily rag carelessly on the floor. "Ders been nuttun to eat but canned beans since we lef Lee's End." As if to illustrate his remarks the Eli grenadier rocked up on one hip and broke wind loudly. "Iffen you wasn't da only pilot we got, we'ed a kilt you two days gone."
Drich Binble leaned forward in his seat and blasted forth.
"Uggh!" Zuvebee gagged. "Why din' ya try to get some variety in our grub? You tink that miner might smell us and run away?"
"Sorry about that." Said the Fabian, "It took nearly everything I had to get the ship." Valdamire shuffled quickly back to the cockpit door. "There just wasn't much left for provisions. How was I to know that beans affect you guys like that?" The only comment was a chorus of loud farts. "While we are on the subject of money, there is something else I should tell you." The Fabian stepped back into the pilots compartment and put his hand on the door actuation mechanism. "I didn't have money enough for amcrys for the return trip either. But that will be OK after you capture the miners stash of amcrys. We'll just use a bit of it to get us out of there. We can go any where in the universe."
"Aagg! Kill him! Rip out his lungs!" Vald slammed the door against a wave of angry Eli warriors. He could hear their enraged screams through the armored door. "Come on boys! Its no problem. The Pocket Miner has plenty enough to spare. " When the Fabian saw that he was getting nowhere trying diplomacy. He reached over for the cabin gravity control box. He opened the cover and went directly for the fine tuning. In a matter of seconds the gravity to the passenger compartment was turned down to zero.
"Gaakk!" screamed Barjhel Gip "I hate zero gee. I'm gonna throw up!"
The screams coming from the other side of the door were no longer angry, but anguished. The Fabian waited until they ware all floating free then jammed the cabin gravity adjustment all the way over to two gees. The tangled mass of Eli manhood hit the floor with a thud. Now back the gravity to minus one. Now up the cabin gravity to plus one. "Arrgh!" Thump, bang, crash, "Yagghh" as someone spewed all over the cabin.
"OK, OK, we give! Sorry about the misunderstanding." Screamed Wimdit as he fell from the ceiling to the floor and back up again. "Please just normalize the gravity."
Too - reel Beev - leek (means rolling thunder, in Eli) sitting in the middle of the floor, covered with barf, with an achey huge head still, and a very unhappy stomach is thinking evil thoughts about sly Fabians.... Lifting his right hip, he blasts forth a greenish cloud of digestive gas by products, in the general direction of the cockpit door. Satisfied that he is still able to live up to his name, the ancient, potbellied Eli, staggered to his feet, and looked about with bloodshot blue eyes. "Wat a mess! Youse guys is sup - posed to be veteran Eli raiders! Anna awl youse can do is barf when dat Bronstik dude plays wif da gravity controls!" "Gods owf space! How did I efer tie up wit youse guys?"
"What's in da name of da ancestors is wrong wit him?", Drich Bimble whispered to Barjhel Gip.
"Oh nuttnin really," Barjhel replied, "He been like dat ever since he took a heavy cone rifle bullet in da head back at Netsuko when we was radin' a chicken ranch."
"A heavy cone rifle bullet?" Drich repeated with an awed look.
"Yah, it smacked 'im right in da back a' da head. Blew his helmet right off. Knocked 'im silly for a while, but he's fine now.
Completely oblivious to the chaos around him, Turel Bevlick rattled on, "Dem beans is gonna tell da damn miner dude we is a comin' long afore we gets dere! Maybe we can dee - scise owr seffs as honka - sowers herd, eff da damn dirt ball has honka -sowers! Might eben oafer load da armor's lifesupports if we gots to button up down dere!"
"Gods owf space! Tuibbs eff ya gots to bend offer, point dat butt somewheres udder den at me! Spray me wif last nights dinner anna I gonna open ya up and see just wot make ya stink so bad inna sides!"
The Fabian let them lay on the floor for a few minutes, before he opened the cabin door. "If you pigs would clean the barf off the windows..." he threw them a roll of disposable towels from the latrine. "You could see we have arrived. The large orange ball off the Starboard side is the Pocket Miner's world. Get you ready for battle!"
"Wot we needs is a cunning plan!" Turel's noble brow wrinkles and sweat pops out on it as he wrestles with the effort of heavy thought. He hangs his tongue out of his mouth (for leverage - shove those thoughts out of that mighty Eli mind), as he doodles with his combat knife on the Fabian' s mess table top. "Aye gots it! Les barrel in low, shoot crap out owf da place wiv da main guns, and den doubles back fer anudder gun run! Effen da sumbeech is still wiv us, he will be stunned stooopit, anna effen he be daid, wail, we gots it made!"
"just plop dis wreck down next to his wreck anna load up da ahmikis stuff! Effen Bronstik doan wanna do it dat way, we can awl ways drop from da sky wit style, Eli raider way, anna blow his shit away anna den take dat ahmikis stuff!"
"Haus dat for a plan guys?" Turel bevlik, proud of his cunning plan looks around for approval.
(Find out more about the Disco Nightmare) (Read the stats for the Eli warriors) (See the map for the game.)
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