Ri2: That's actually not suprising, considering she bit Myrtle Edmonds...
HeMeloNoLilo: OK, you asked for 'em, here they are!
Lilo & Stitch's Star Trek
Chapter 25: Helping Hand
"Um,
where is being 626?"
Jumba
scanned the area, as though hoping that Stitch would magically pop
out of the wall.
"Oh,
he went to the bathroom to read today's Quammian News,"
Lilo somehow said, despite the fact that she was being held back by
two drone and her mouth was covered in a bandanna, some kind of weird
sellotape, and Drone #1's right elbow. "He should be back right
about…"
"TOOKIE
BA WABA!"
"…now,"
Lilo finished, beaming at the sight of her loyal companion, and the
fact that she had been right about his arrival.
Stitch
flew through the door, slipped over and slammed into the navigation
control.
"Oww…"
"Stitch!"
"I'm
OK, I'm fluffy!"
"Prepare
to get your patookie kicked from here to the Pulson Nebula!"
"Er…
sorry to be correcting little girl, but we are already at the Pulson
Nebula."
"OK…
um… then prepare to get your gluteus maximuses kicked to the
Andromeda Galaxy!"
The
drones, ignoring Lilo's 'chants', turned around and stared
intensely at Stitch.
"Subject
analysis: Experiment 626. Threat: Minimal."
Stitch
muttered something that meant something along the lines of "That so
hurt!" and leaped at the creatures.
But
all he met was the floor.
"Gaba?"
He
looked around. The drones were gone, as well as Lilo. Pleakly lay
across the couch, apparently having fainted again.
"Incoming
communication. Audio only."
"On
speakers," muttered Jumba.
Billions
of the heartless, soulless voices blasted through the speakers,
reverberating throughout every corner of the ship.
"Surrender
to us or we will destroy you. Your defensive capabilities are unable
to withst…"
"End
communication."
"LET
ME GO!"
"You
will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."
But
still Lilo struggled.
The
drone dropped her. Winded, trying to gasp for air, she did not notice
the needle-like pipes flying out of the drone's fingers. Not until
they were entering her neck did she notice them, and by that time it
was too late.
Pain,
as she had never felt before, entered her, filled every part of her.
Every inch of her body was bursting with the intense pain.
She
screamed. And all went black.
"Gaba
eek?"
"No!
Absolutely not!"
"But
Lilo…"
Jumba
sighed.
"Look,
626, there is nothi…"
At
that moment, an explosion rocked the bridge; everything went flying
as the computer stated that there had been a "hull breach, deck
three, section IV" and that it was "sealing door to section IV"
and that there was a "recompression danger" and that "item:
'Jumba's Mini Corn-Dogs' is interfering with recompression
process".
Boom
after boom rocked and rolled the ship; and for fifteen minutes Jumba
tried frantically to recalibrate the shield matrix, all to no avail.
"'TIS
NO USE! WE NEED TO RECONFIGURE THE SA1 PROTOCAL!" Jumba roared over
the noise.
"GABA?"
"I
SAID…"
Suddenly
the pounding stopped.
"… WE
NEED TO…"
Jumba
stopped suddenly as his words resonated around the room.
"… er…
eat mini corn-dogs?"
The
holographic generator whizzed and whirled, and the giant transparent
greenish screen materialized in the middle of the room.
"Incoming
communication."
The
screen flickered into life, displaying an image of the outside.
Space, star-streaked and breathtaking, filled the display, only
interrupted by the sleek metallic ship in the distance. The monitor
flickered again, displaying a room, obviously the bridge of a ship.
In the center, one of those nice comfy twirly-seats you get with
computers, and in that chair, a 23.2 year-old Caucasian woman.
"We
figured you needed a hand."