THE AMAZING, INCREDIBLE, MIND-BOGGLING ADVENTURES OF TABLE-HEADED SERVICE DRONE BOB!
Part Twelve: The chair
Commander Larb stood in his command chamber, looking as cocky as ever. Victory as an Invader had obviously given his ego an immense boost, as he surveyed his surroundings. Bob and Chak were practically thrown in front of him. Larb turned towards them, non-existent eyebrows arched in self-possessed importance.
"Ah! Welcome to the Irken Military Research Outpost Stark 1-27," Larb said as if the place seemed to mean a damn, "I am in command of this outpost for the duration of Operation Something With The Word Doom In It. The Tallest have given me complete jurisprudence in matters pertaining to you, Bob. And that seems to include you...what's-her-name."
"It's Chak," confirmed Chak, irritably.
"Whatever," dismissed Larb, "Whatever's interesting people in you, Bob, it's nothing to do with your actual body, as my scientists have confirmed. So whatever these people want, it must be contained within your mind." Oh, it's that old chestnut...
"I don't know what you're talking about!" pleaded Bob, "please, I'm just a service drone! The only controversial thing that's happened to me was winning 6 million monies in a bet with people like you! And you sent me into the sun because of that!" Larb squinted at Bob with this news.
"Actually maybe I DO remember you..." Larb attempted to squeeze out of his memory.
"You heard him! He knows nothing!" Chak stuck up for Bob, surprising herself as much as she did Bob, "So would it be possible to just drop us off at the nearest planet and forget the whole thing?"
"Impossible! The Tallest have given me the freedom to pursue your capture and research here at this base!" Larb argued, perhaps letting on more than he realised, "if we can't get our answers from you willingly we will have to resort to...THE CHAIR!" You could almost hear the 'dun-dun-DAAA'.
"That doesn't sound good..." commented Bob as there emerged from the floor a chair, filled with connotations of malice, pain and dentist drills.
"This chair will probe your memories and extract the information we deem necessary to conclude your case," Larb commented, "my scientists have developed it to provide the maximum clarity and information possible, breaking through even mind-blocks. The Tallest haven't put their trust in the Conquerer of Vort for no reason."
"Yay. Conquering the home of the universe's most comfortable couch," Bob added sarcastically, "big achievement." Larb did not take kindly to having his ego dented.
"STRAP THE LITTLE BASTARD IN!" Larb ordered with incredible venom. Bob had obviously touched a sore spot. Scientists came and dragged Bob to the chair.
"No, no wait! Perhaps we got off to a bad start," Bob pleaded desperately, sensing that whatever the chair did, it wasn't going to be pleasant, "I'll co-operate! Whatever you want to know! You don't need to scavenge my brain for it!"
"BOB!" Chak cried, trying to get the scientists off him, but all that did was earn her a violent shock from the end of one of the guard's shock sticks. She fell exhausted on the floor, helpless to intervene.
"Look! I'm offering to give you all the information you need!" Bob continued to plead, "Just ask a question! Any question! I'll answer it! Just please don't strap me in the chair!" This seemed to be to no avail as he was placed in the chair, and straps attached to his limbs to fasten him in place.
"Nice try, service drone," Larb hissed at Bob, "BUT NO ONE QUESTIONS MY ABILITY AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!!" Larb glared at Bob then turned away, disgusted. A scientist drew a strap across Bob's head, fastening it against the sharp instruments that would shortly enter his cranium.
"Now, isn't this comfortable?" re-assured the scientist, who seemed to be twitching in one eye, "I'm Carg, and I'll be your psycho-analyst for today. If you experience a stinging sensation, I can re-assure you that it will pass in favour of horrible screaming pain." Bob looked at the scientist with a horrific glance, then yelled to Larb.
"I'm sorry about what I said earlier! I'm sure you're a good Invader!" pleaded Bob once again, "no! The BEST Invader! The Tallest were wise to put their trust in such a capable soldier! I respect you enough to answer whatever questions you ask! Please! Please don't do this! You don't need to do this! You-AAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!"
Bob's face contorted in pain as the needles at the top of the chair dug into his skull, releasing blood which flowed down the side of his face. His arms flailed around trying to escape the pain, but there was no escape. He began losing sense and started spasming violently as images, confused and distorted, began to flash in his head and on a nearby monitor. Chak was lying on the floor nearby, crying...
TO BE CONTINUED...
Part Twelve: The chair
Commander Larb stood in his command chamber, looking as cocky as ever. Victory as an Invader had obviously given his ego an immense boost, as he surveyed his surroundings. Bob and Chak were practically thrown in front of him. Larb turned towards them, non-existent eyebrows arched in self-possessed importance.
"Ah! Welcome to the Irken Military Research Outpost Stark 1-27," Larb said as if the place seemed to mean a damn, "I am in command of this outpost for the duration of Operation Something With The Word Doom In It. The Tallest have given me complete jurisprudence in matters pertaining to you, Bob. And that seems to include you...what's-her-name."
"It's Chak," confirmed Chak, irritably.
"Whatever," dismissed Larb, "Whatever's interesting people in you, Bob, it's nothing to do with your actual body, as my scientists have confirmed. So whatever these people want, it must be contained within your mind." Oh, it's that old chestnut...
"I don't know what you're talking about!" pleaded Bob, "please, I'm just a service drone! The only controversial thing that's happened to me was winning 6 million monies in a bet with people like you! And you sent me into the sun because of that!" Larb squinted at Bob with this news.
"Actually maybe I DO remember you..." Larb attempted to squeeze out of his memory.
"You heard him! He knows nothing!" Chak stuck up for Bob, surprising herself as much as she did Bob, "So would it be possible to just drop us off at the nearest planet and forget the whole thing?"
"Impossible! The Tallest have given me the freedom to pursue your capture and research here at this base!" Larb argued, perhaps letting on more than he realised, "if we can't get our answers from you willingly we will have to resort to...THE CHAIR!" You could almost hear the 'dun-dun-DAAA'.
"That doesn't sound good..." commented Bob as there emerged from the floor a chair, filled with connotations of malice, pain and dentist drills.
"This chair will probe your memories and extract the information we deem necessary to conclude your case," Larb commented, "my scientists have developed it to provide the maximum clarity and information possible, breaking through even mind-blocks. The Tallest haven't put their trust in the Conquerer of Vort for no reason."
"Yay. Conquering the home of the universe's most comfortable couch," Bob added sarcastically, "big achievement." Larb did not take kindly to having his ego dented.
"STRAP THE LITTLE BASTARD IN!" Larb ordered with incredible venom. Bob had obviously touched a sore spot. Scientists came and dragged Bob to the chair.
"No, no wait! Perhaps we got off to a bad start," Bob pleaded desperately, sensing that whatever the chair did, it wasn't going to be pleasant, "I'll co-operate! Whatever you want to know! You don't need to scavenge my brain for it!"
"BOB!" Chak cried, trying to get the scientists off him, but all that did was earn her a violent shock from the end of one of the guard's shock sticks. She fell exhausted on the floor, helpless to intervene.
"Look! I'm offering to give you all the information you need!" Bob continued to plead, "Just ask a question! Any question! I'll answer it! Just please don't strap me in the chair!" This seemed to be to no avail as he was placed in the chair, and straps attached to his limbs to fasten him in place.
"Nice try, service drone," Larb hissed at Bob, "BUT NO ONE QUESTIONS MY ABILITY AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!!" Larb glared at Bob then turned away, disgusted. A scientist drew a strap across Bob's head, fastening it against the sharp instruments that would shortly enter his cranium.
"Now, isn't this comfortable?" re-assured the scientist, who seemed to be twitching in one eye, "I'm Carg, and I'll be your psycho-analyst for today. If you experience a stinging sensation, I can re-assure you that it will pass in favour of horrible screaming pain." Bob looked at the scientist with a horrific glance, then yelled to Larb.
"I'm sorry about what I said earlier! I'm sure you're a good Invader!" pleaded Bob once again, "no! The BEST Invader! The Tallest were wise to put their trust in such a capable soldier! I respect you enough to answer whatever questions you ask! Please! Please don't do this! You don't need to do this! You-AAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!"
Bob's face contorted in pain as the needles at the top of the chair dug into his skull, releasing blood which flowed down the side of his face. His arms flailed around trying to escape the pain, but there was no escape. He began losing sense and started spasming violently as images, confused and distorted, began to flash in his head and on a nearby monitor. Chak was lying on the floor nearby, crying...
TO BE CONTINUED...