Star Trek: Strange New Worlds… "Spiff's Rift…"
Summary: Spaceman Spiff takes on the crew of the Enterprise…
Note: After a recent Calvin and Hobbes meme, I just had to…
Part III…
The deepest reaches of the known Galaxy, sometime in the relative future...
A silent...Hey, this is space, after all...Flaming visible roar of rocket thrust, revealing the one man...Cause a hero of this caliber hardly needs a crew...Vessel of the legendary Spaceman Spiff.
"Yes, Mr. Galactic Confederation President?" Spiff, seated in his control cabin, his handsome features concealed as always by his space goggles, as he utilized the ultimate in holo-headphones."Spaceman Spiff." The holograph miniature of the Galactic Confederation President appeared on a small pad. "We've received another message through the interdimensional time/space riff you created to communicate with your past counterparts. That legendary detective, Tracer Bullet, is calling from old Earth. There's a potential disaster for the timeline only you can solve!"
"Mr. President." Nod to image. "I'd gladly do anything to save our timeline and help my counterpart, but I'm a bit bogged down with the Bullulumians right now."
Large, rather oddly loutish-looking ship appears, with wings extended in front, rather like a unibrow, chasing behind, firing large bursts of plasma at Spiff's vessel.
"I'm sure there's someone else...Perhaps you, sir? Pardon me, I gotta return fire." Spiff, firing rear cannons at the Bullulumian ship which turns bright furious red to indicate all power being transferred to weapons.
"Spiff? Admittedly, I've been a heroic enough guy in my day in the field before politics, but..." the President, a handsome enough, though nothing to compare to Spiff, fellow in his Presidential outfit. And really, that hair? Come on...It's like a block of hair spray. Eyed him. "But you know the situation on old Earth better than anyone. And you have allies there...Plus, we understand from analysis by your colleague Hobbes, our interdimensional science expert currently stationed there, the alien Commander thinks you're pretty cute."
Hmmn...Spiff pondered. The Bullulumian ship closing now. Firing, and mostly missing, rather angrily...Spiff's ship's shields easily holding the pounding.
"Come on, Spiff." The President's holoimage urges... "I know you can handle the Bullulumians with one hand. I drop my usual urging to try peaceful negotiation and tell you it's ok to blast 'em. This timeline thing is vital. We could lose Calvin, the person on whom the fate of the Earth and the later Galaxy rests. As an old friend, I'm beggin'. You're the one man for the job."
"Well..." Spiff ponders. Pressing button to return fire. The Bullulumian ship turning yellow, as if with the hysterical rage of an angry seven year old hulking bully, and exploding.
Geesh, what were they eating? Disgusting, much...
"I guess I do now have some free time, Chris. President Pike, sorry."
"No need for formalities between us, old friend." Pike nods. "Thanks, and accept the thanks of the Galaxy, past and future."
"Gotta save things first." Spiff notes. "So, give me the lowdown on this menace to my old Earth ancestor, Calvin?"
"Well, the aliens seeking to destroy our future gave up on their old Commander Wormwood. She's been 'retired'." Arch look.
"Mertilized permanently, you mean." Spiff eyes the image.
"That seems to be their penalty for failure." Pike nods. "There's a new Commander in town. They call her Singh. Singh the Merciless, their finest. Gotta say, I agree with Science Expert Hobbes, a rather cute one."
"Hobbes is an idiot where girls are concerned. Capable enough otherwise. What about my other counterpart, legendary detective, Tracer Bullet?"
"Well, he's passed on the information to us...But..." Pike's image looked down.
"They've got him, eh? Dead?" Spiff eyed the image.
"Not yet...But he's a prisoner in their interrogation chamber."
"Tracer won't spill. He's cold steel." Spiff, confidently.
"That may be, but he's a primitive...And currently subject to every hideous advanced torture imaginable. Also, she is pretty cute. I did mention that, right?" Pike's image eyes Spiff. "And as you know from our adventures together, I've met some cute ones."
"Focus, Mr. President."
"Sorry..." wan smile.
"All right, I'll take the assignment. By the way, tell the Bullulumians, their flagship is scattered across the Gym Nebula, if they want it back. And that if they cross the neutral zone again, it'll be even less pretty with destroyed Bullulumian ships and the awful stuff they eat, spattered all around their border."
"Cool. And a bit gross. Will do. Let us know when you're ready to enter the riff. Pike out." The image vanished.
...
This situation is a desperate one, Tracer thought as he sat in the interrogation chamber of the alien base. She's going to try every method she knows to extract my knowledge of Spiff and the future. And she's clever enough to pretend to be nice.
"Cookie? They're homemade." Ms. Singh offered plate, with smile.
Dang...Chocolate chip. The vixen's done her homework and knows me only too well.
Het-hmmn...
"Hobbes would like two."
...