The Adventures Of The Three Idioteers
Posted: Wed Sep 30, 2015 4:19 pm
Before you read, I'd like to thank Cody and Diziet Sma for encouraging me to continue this story. I'm a bit of a sloth, and some motivation goes a long way. Without them it's a sure fact that this story would never have continued. <sigh> Yes, it's been a month since I posted the introduction, but at least I got a chapter down. Again, thanks for your support. I also applaud my readers, who have spent precious minutes of their life reading this particular experiment of mine. Anyway enough said, you're probably wanting to read the story so enjoy!
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INTRODUCTION: MAY THE ODDS NEVER BE IN YOUR FAVOUR
Far off in space lies a region of space seven intergalactic jumps away from what is now known as Galaxy One. As such, it was unimaginably dubbed Galaxy Eight, presumably by a bunch of fools. Somehow they managed to survive long enough to jump a complete circuit of the galaxies to tell everyone of their discoveries and sadly, their new names. Legend has it that the sector of space now known as Galaxy One was once called by another name, but as this rather unimaginative crew decided to name the galaxies they went to numerically, the old name for Galaxy One had to be given up.
Now, surely you must think that the names for these new galaxies were to be rejected (as they were so boring), but everyone else didn't care. Soon as people heard there were other galaxies out there to explore and exploit they were off. The way old Earth gold rushes are described wouldn't even begin to do it justice. No one gave a hoot about what the galaxies were called as they were all too busy firing up their spaceships and jumping out of the galaxy, and to this day the galaxies have been named numerically.
The names of the galaxies have been changed recently though, about fifty years ago. You see, until then apparently everyone believed that there were eight separate galaxies. Somehow a team of scientists discovered that the eight galaxies were actually separate sections of one galaxy. The galaxies were renamed (as they weren't actually galaxies) as Galaxy Sector One, Galaxy Sector Two, and so on and so forth. While the names of the galaxies -oops- sectors remained the same, nothing else did. There were huge changes from those early days of space flight until now. Planets were named and colonized, technology took a huge leap forward, spacecraft changed and improved drastically and weapons of mass destruction were created, just to name a few of the changes.
What hasn't changed over the centuries is the luck and foolishness of those original explorers, or more to the point, their children. The unimaginative crew of that historical journey numbered eight. One would assume that there would be plenty of young and foolish offspring running around by now, but thankfully that's not the case. If it took only eight of them to change history, imagine what hundreds of them could do. Luckily *snicker*, their luck and their descendants' luck had run out eventually, leaving only three surviving offspring.
Space is huge, and filled with trillions of inhabitants. What are the odds of the three offspring being in the same sector, or in the same system? What are the odds of them meeting? Maybe something like a gazillion kajillion to one. The odds are against them, that's for sure and hopefully always will be. May Lord Giles have mercy on us if they ever do meet, because who knows what havoc they'll wreck.
CHAPTER ONE: EN ROUTE
GALAXY SECTOR SEVEN
CERIANON SYSTEM (SPACE)- RICH INDUSTRIAL- DEMOCRACY- TECH LEVEL 14- POPULATION 5.9 BILLION FIERCE HARMLESS RODENTS
"Ozzie m'boy, geet yer head outta dose crates an' redeee fer lanin'," a slurred voice crackled over the Python's ancient comm system. In the cargo hold, deep down in the ship's belly, Austin jumped and hit his head promptly on the ceiling. A large BOONNNG! reverberated throughout the hold.
"Prak!" he swore loudly. "I just preened my feathers!" Grumbling, he bent down his head and rubbed it with his wings. "Now how am I gonna impress the ladies?"
Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he tried figure out what the voice said but it was impossible. At the moment the cargo hold was nearly empty which created a huge echo, and not to mention that the person was highly intoxicated.
"Ozzeeee, whaz takin' sooo long? You 'ave a seet up 'ere, an' it's mizzin yer bud" the comms crackled again.
Austin tried to decipher the message again but for all he knew the person was speaking a different language. Sighing, he closed the crate of food he was rummaging through and made his way to the elevator. It would take him to the cockpit where he'd maybe get some answers. Pushing the button to summon it, he wondered where they'd travel next. They'd just finished unloading most of their cargo at Cerianon's main station and made a rather large profit. Well, a profit as they hadn't bought any more cargo. In the trading industry, if you broke even you were considered to be lucky. Ding! The elevator had arrived. Wonder if ancient elevators dinged too, he thought. It did have a certain charm. Ducking his head, he got into the elevator. It lurched upwards and his noggin met an unyielding teltriton ceiling for the second time that day.
"Owww..." Austin whimpered "... I really need to get a helmet."
Finally the doors opened and he darted out from the box of misery only to encounter something much, much worse. In front of him sat all of the crew members, even the ones piloting the escort Sidewinders who've must've docked on the escort deck. Better hope we don't have any trouble. Taking in the scene, he noticed a large number of empty beer bottles lying around. Obviously they'd been at it for awhile.
"Why didn't you tell me you were getting wasted?" Austin moaned mournfully. "I want to get wasted!" Anyway, where had they gotten enough money to buy that much beer? Austin began to think, and slowly the pieces started to fit together. Sold the cargo at the main station... didn't pick up any more cargo... profit from the sales... Horror bloomed on his face as he realized what had happened. Striding briskly across the floor he approached the captain's chair, all the while praying to Giles that his suspicions weren't true.
"Please tell me you didn't spend all of our money on booze," he pleaded. Spinning his chair around Captain A'ewvd (a rather sickly mantid) looked at Austin and chuckled. Or at least tried to chuckle. All that he could accomplish was a rather harsh clicking sound with his mandibles.
"Naw, jess take a seet Ozzeee. I din' spen' all da monee." Austin clacked his beak in annoyance. Among the avians he was something of an anomaly. Unlike other avians, he had a long neck and legs and couldn't fly, resembling a non-sentient Earth avian called an ostrich. Henceforth the nick name his captain had given him, Ozzie. The name drove him crazy as he was sentient, and had bright green feathers unlike the ostrich.
"Well, what did you do with the rest of it, and should you really be flying this thing in your condition?" he asked angrily as he secured himself to the seat made to hold his large frame.
"Dooncha worree, ododock iz on. Besize, 'll spen' da ress ob it 'ere" the Captain answered, spinning himself around.
"Whaddya mean, spend the rest of it here?" Austin asked nervously.
Captain A'ewvd and the rest of the crew which encompassed two shaggy canines, a lobster and a mangy feline were famous for getting into trouble. During the two years Austin had been around, they'd almost lost the ship five times and just last month they'd had an encounter with a group of horny lizards. They'd barely escaped with their clothes.
"Out da winnow" the Captain replied, jarring him from his thoughts. The poor avian looked forward and was greeted by a terrible sight.
"We've gotta 'portant meetin' wit ta hOopy peeple. Gonna doin 'vestment, an' doon' wanna keep 'em waitin'."
The avian let out a shocked squawk and could only stare in horror as the CoachWhip hOopy Casino that lay before them, and the imminent loss of the ship approached.
*****
CERIANON SYSTEM (PLANETSIDE)
Erica turned on her holopad and brought up her credit balance for the fifth time that day. The meagre allowance she was given by the orphanage each month barely amounted to anything and her situation was getting dire. She would be sixteen in two weeks, and then the Navy could haul her away for their cadet program. A couple of years ago she wouldn't have had this problem, but Thargoid attacks had been occurring more and more frequently which resulted in Bill SKFN (standing for Snatch Kids For Navy) being implemented.
Or, as everyone liked to call it, skiffin. Everyone of course meaning kids. The bill was popular with the adults, as it had nothing to do with them. Of course they like it, 'cuz they're not the ones being forced to join the Navy and fly to their deaths, she thought sourly. And so a new curse word was born: skiffin. It was derogatory ('Cuz who likes the Navy? I mean, seriously? Who?), it meant death (No duh! You got skiffed, you die), and as an added bonus it was fun to say (skiffin skiffin skiffn skiffin).
It also added more fun to an ancient childhood song called Skip To My Loo, now renamed Skiff To My Loo. But back to the bill. Due to the inexperience of the Navy's pilots, much more perished than those being drafted. So to fix up the problem, any youth without parents would be drafted at the age of sixteen. The Navy said that the cadets wouldn't get sent out until they were of legal age which was eighteen, but Erica knew better than that. After all, would the Navy really waste money on feeding expendable kids for two years before sending them out into space? Fat chance on that happening. The Navy was already how many billions of dollars in debt, so why'd they dig themselves into a deeper mess? No, she had to get out, and soon. The only problem was finding a way out without getting caught, and staying that way for two years. Then she'd be an adult and free. Until then she'd have to play it smart and avoid the authorities, which she figured shouldn't be too hard.
Due to the massive debt they had created, the Navy and every other police branch had had their budgets and staff cut in an effort to get rid of their debt. It left maybe one officer per five hundred citizens which was way higher than the suggested one officer per fifty citizens for a democratic system. She'd calculated that most officers were incompetent and bribable, which meant if she was "on her best behaviour", as her supervisors would say, it'd be a piece of cake. The one thing she hadn't figured out yet was how exactly she'd get off the planet, but it'd come to her. She'd get away if it was the last thing she'd do.
....TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWO: DRAWING NEARER
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
INTRODUCTION: MAY THE ODDS NEVER BE IN YOUR FAVOUR
Far off in space lies a region of space seven intergalactic jumps away from what is now known as Galaxy One. As such, it was unimaginably dubbed Galaxy Eight, presumably by a bunch of fools. Somehow they managed to survive long enough to jump a complete circuit of the galaxies to tell everyone of their discoveries and sadly, their new names. Legend has it that the sector of space now known as Galaxy One was once called by another name, but as this rather unimaginative crew decided to name the galaxies they went to numerically, the old name for Galaxy One had to be given up.
Now, surely you must think that the names for these new galaxies were to be rejected (as they were so boring), but everyone else didn't care. Soon as people heard there were other galaxies out there to explore and exploit they were off. The way old Earth gold rushes are described wouldn't even begin to do it justice. No one gave a hoot about what the galaxies were called as they were all too busy firing up their spaceships and jumping out of the galaxy, and to this day the galaxies have been named numerically.
The names of the galaxies have been changed recently though, about fifty years ago. You see, until then apparently everyone believed that there were eight separate galaxies. Somehow a team of scientists discovered that the eight galaxies were actually separate sections of one galaxy. The galaxies were renamed (as they weren't actually galaxies) as Galaxy Sector One, Galaxy Sector Two, and so on and so forth. While the names of the galaxies -oops- sectors remained the same, nothing else did. There were huge changes from those early days of space flight until now. Planets were named and colonized, technology took a huge leap forward, spacecraft changed and improved drastically and weapons of mass destruction were created, just to name a few of the changes.
What hasn't changed over the centuries is the luck and foolishness of those original explorers, or more to the point, their children. The unimaginative crew of that historical journey numbered eight. One would assume that there would be plenty of young and foolish offspring running around by now, but thankfully that's not the case. If it took only eight of them to change history, imagine what hundreds of them could do. Luckily *snicker*, their luck and their descendants' luck had run out eventually, leaving only three surviving offspring.
Space is huge, and filled with trillions of inhabitants. What are the odds of the three offspring being in the same sector, or in the same system? What are the odds of them meeting? Maybe something like a gazillion kajillion to one. The odds are against them, that's for sure and hopefully always will be. May Lord Giles have mercy on us if they ever do meet, because who knows what havoc they'll wreck.
CHAPTER ONE: EN ROUTE
GALAXY SECTOR SEVEN
CERIANON SYSTEM (SPACE)- RICH INDUSTRIAL- DEMOCRACY- TECH LEVEL 14- POPULATION 5.9 BILLION FIERCE HARMLESS RODENTS
"Ozzie m'boy, geet yer head outta dose crates an' redeee fer lanin'," a slurred voice crackled over the Python's ancient comm system. In the cargo hold, deep down in the ship's belly, Austin jumped and hit his head promptly on the ceiling. A large BOONNNG! reverberated throughout the hold.
"Prak!" he swore loudly. "I just preened my feathers!" Grumbling, he bent down his head and rubbed it with his wings. "Now how am I gonna impress the ladies?"
Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he tried figure out what the voice said but it was impossible. At the moment the cargo hold was nearly empty which created a huge echo, and not to mention that the person was highly intoxicated.
"Ozzeeee, whaz takin' sooo long? You 'ave a seet up 'ere, an' it's mizzin yer bud" the comms crackled again.
Austin tried to decipher the message again but for all he knew the person was speaking a different language. Sighing, he closed the crate of food he was rummaging through and made his way to the elevator. It would take him to the cockpit where he'd maybe get some answers. Pushing the button to summon it, he wondered where they'd travel next. They'd just finished unloading most of their cargo at Cerianon's main station and made a rather large profit. Well, a profit as they hadn't bought any more cargo. In the trading industry, if you broke even you were considered to be lucky. Ding! The elevator had arrived. Wonder if ancient elevators dinged too, he thought. It did have a certain charm. Ducking his head, he got into the elevator. It lurched upwards and his noggin met an unyielding teltriton ceiling for the second time that day.
"Owww..." Austin whimpered "... I really need to get a helmet."
Finally the doors opened and he darted out from the box of misery only to encounter something much, much worse. In front of him sat all of the crew members, even the ones piloting the escort Sidewinders who've must've docked on the escort deck. Better hope we don't have any trouble. Taking in the scene, he noticed a large number of empty beer bottles lying around. Obviously they'd been at it for awhile.
"Why didn't you tell me you were getting wasted?" Austin moaned mournfully. "I want to get wasted!" Anyway, where had they gotten enough money to buy that much beer? Austin began to think, and slowly the pieces started to fit together. Sold the cargo at the main station... didn't pick up any more cargo... profit from the sales... Horror bloomed on his face as he realized what had happened. Striding briskly across the floor he approached the captain's chair, all the while praying to Giles that his suspicions weren't true.
"Please tell me you didn't spend all of our money on booze," he pleaded. Spinning his chair around Captain A'ewvd (a rather sickly mantid) looked at Austin and chuckled. Or at least tried to chuckle. All that he could accomplish was a rather harsh clicking sound with his mandibles.
"Naw, jess take a seet Ozzeee. I din' spen' all da monee." Austin clacked his beak in annoyance. Among the avians he was something of an anomaly. Unlike other avians, he had a long neck and legs and couldn't fly, resembling a non-sentient Earth avian called an ostrich. Henceforth the nick name his captain had given him, Ozzie. The name drove him crazy as he was sentient, and had bright green feathers unlike the ostrich.
"Well, what did you do with the rest of it, and should you really be flying this thing in your condition?" he asked angrily as he secured himself to the seat made to hold his large frame.
"Dooncha worree, ododock iz on. Besize, 'll spen' da ress ob it 'ere" the Captain answered, spinning himself around.
"Whaddya mean, spend the rest of it here?" Austin asked nervously.
Captain A'ewvd and the rest of the crew which encompassed two shaggy canines, a lobster and a mangy feline were famous for getting into trouble. During the two years Austin had been around, they'd almost lost the ship five times and just last month they'd had an encounter with a group of horny lizards. They'd barely escaped with their clothes.
"Out da winnow" the Captain replied, jarring him from his thoughts. The poor avian looked forward and was greeted by a terrible sight.
"We've gotta 'portant meetin' wit ta hOopy peeple. Gonna doin 'vestment, an' doon' wanna keep 'em waitin'."
The avian let out a shocked squawk and could only stare in horror as the CoachWhip hOopy Casino that lay before them, and the imminent loss of the ship approached.
*****
CERIANON SYSTEM (PLANETSIDE)
Erica turned on her holopad and brought up her credit balance for the fifth time that day. The meagre allowance she was given by the orphanage each month barely amounted to anything and her situation was getting dire. She would be sixteen in two weeks, and then the Navy could haul her away for their cadet program. A couple of years ago she wouldn't have had this problem, but Thargoid attacks had been occurring more and more frequently which resulted in Bill SKFN (standing for Snatch Kids For Navy) being implemented.
Or, as everyone liked to call it, skiffin. Everyone of course meaning kids. The bill was popular with the adults, as it had nothing to do with them. Of course they like it, 'cuz they're not the ones being forced to join the Navy and fly to their deaths, she thought sourly. And so a new curse word was born: skiffin. It was derogatory ('Cuz who likes the Navy? I mean, seriously? Who?), it meant death (No duh! You got skiffed, you die), and as an added bonus it was fun to say (skiffin skiffin skiffn skiffin).
It also added more fun to an ancient childhood song called Skip To My Loo, now renamed Skiff To My Loo. But back to the bill. Due to the inexperience of the Navy's pilots, much more perished than those being drafted. So to fix up the problem, any youth without parents would be drafted at the age of sixteen. The Navy said that the cadets wouldn't get sent out until they were of legal age which was eighteen, but Erica knew better than that. After all, would the Navy really waste money on feeding expendable kids for two years before sending them out into space? Fat chance on that happening. The Navy was already how many billions of dollars in debt, so why'd they dig themselves into a deeper mess? No, she had to get out, and soon. The only problem was finding a way out without getting caught, and staying that way for two years. Then she'd be an adult and free. Until then she'd have to play it smart and avoid the authorities, which she figured shouldn't be too hard.
Due to the massive debt they had created, the Navy and every other police branch had had their budgets and staff cut in an effort to get rid of their debt. It left maybe one officer per five hundred citizens which was way higher than the suggested one officer per fifty citizens for a democratic system. She'd calculated that most officers were incompetent and bribable, which meant if she was "on her best behaviour", as her supervisors would say, it'd be a piece of cake. The one thing she hadn't figured out yet was how exactly she'd get off the planet, but it'd come to her. She'd get away if it was the last thing she'd do.
....TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWO: DRAWING NEARER
