Void Voyage

It's a dark and stormy night. You think to yourself, "Isn't it ALWAYS a dark and stormy night just before something weird happens?" Then you laugh at the silliness of the idea.

Still, you're no dummy. These kinds of storms always lead to a power outage and a stifling case of boredom, so this time - you're prepared. You have your trusty TAD 3000 Tablet, an external battery pack for extra power, and a ton of books downloaded.

You settle down in your favorite recliner, place a refreshing beverage on the side table, and listen to the wind and rain for a moment. The storm is really kicking up out there, but you feel like you've done all you can to prepare. Now it’s time to settle down into a good book.

You power-up your TAD 3000 and in just a few seconds, you are looking at your huge library of e-books, broken out into categories. Your favorite categories are at the top, and they each seem like a good way to pass the time. You have horror novels, science fiction, sword and sandal stuff, detective novels, spy books, a couple of risqué romance novels you promised to read and review for a friend, and even a cookbook at your disposal. You consider your mood and choose.

You decide that sci-fi is the way to go. Getting your space-travel on will be a great way to pass the time this evening. You open up the sci-fi section and see Void Voyage: Book 1 right at the top. That’s the one!

As your finger touches the tablet, your hair suddenly stands on end. Your mouth tastes coppery and you smell the faintest whiff of...something smoky. With a deafening crash a bolt of lightning arcs into the room, enveloping you and your tablet alike. For a moment, everything is unbearably bright. Then, all is darkness.

For a moment, you are completely paralyzed. Your eyes squeezed shut, body rigid, you take a deep breath, let it out slowly and open your eyes.

Unbelievably, you are standing on the bridge of a really impressive starship! You look down at yourself and see a crisp, important-looking uniform and a side-arm in a holster. On your chest is a heavy metal badge, shaped kind of like a yield sign trying to mate with a donut.

Glancing around the bridge, you can hardly believe your eyes! Everywhere you look are amazing machines, computer consoles, and controls. There is a low hum permeating the atmosphere and you wonder for a moment if one of the portal/door/hatch thingies leads to a bathroom.

At each station you see an attentive crew-person (or equivalent) in their equally crisp uniforms. Most of them are humanoid, but not human. There is a red one, a green/grey one, and even one with three eyes and fur. In the corner, looking very imposing indeed, is a seven-foot bird-like crew-member with dangerous looking talons on his feet and seven prehensile "finger" feathers on his hand.

After a moment, you notice that his "hand" is actually raised slightly. You decide to call on him/her/it.

"Yes, uh..." you begin, gesturing awkwardly in “his” direction.

"Gus, Captain. First Officer Beaux Gus. I signed on this morning?"

Realization finally dawns on you and you understand that somehow, some way, you've been sucked into the 'Void Voyage' book you had been planning to read, and you lament putting off reading it before. Now that you appear to be IN the book, it would have been nice to know what was supposed to happen next!

"Yes, of course. Gus," you answer. "How can I help you?"

Gus's eyes get, amazingly, even bigger than they were before, and he gently points to the view screen at the front of the bridge. Hovering in front (you assume) of your ship is a ginormous (again, you assume) and deadly-looking ship with a lot of pointy things that appear to be weapons, even to you.

"Ah. Yes," you say. "That."

You stare at the ship and wonder exactly how you are supposed to get out of this. Behind you is a fairly comfortable-looking Captain's chair. You sit in it.

You strike what you hope looks like a contemplative, but entirely competent pose in your chair and look at the view screen. Suddenly, nothing comes to you. Despite your instincts telling you to run away, you instead address the crew.

"This is the captain speaking..." you begin. "Uh, yes. I, um, I suppose you know that. Well anyway, status report, Gus."

Gus steps over to your chair, his very frightening-looking talons digging furrows into the deck plates which heal themselves almost instantly. You think, “Wow, that’s cool!”

"Yes, Captain," Gus says with a subtle shriek. "Nothing has changed in the past eleven minutes. The Braktolian Hegemony has sent their flagship, the Pffasssht to deliver an ultimatum to our collective. The ultimatum is, “Abandon this sector, or we will eat you."

Not particularly wanting to be eaten, you consider your options. You can abandon the sector as requested, or you can attack, but neither choice feels like it’s going to come with an instruction manual. While your brain frantically churns you look at Gus and your left eye twitches a little. You think back to all the science fiction stories you've read, searching for a solution, but nothing of any profundity occurs to you.

"Captain," says Gus with a snap of his beak, "Shall we confer?"

"YES!" You leap upon the chance to have someone else make a decision. "Everyone to my conference room!"

"Do you mean 'Action Center' Captain?"

"Oh, yes. Naturally. Let's have a "conference" in my ‘Action Center’!”

No one moves.

Just as the length of the ensuing pause creeps past awkward, you say, "Um, lead the way please, Gus."

Your First Officer ruffles his feathers and leads the way out of the room, really putting the nifty floor-repair system through its paces. You follow with authority.

As the crew settles around the Conference Room (Action Center!) table, you sit in the fanciest chair and waive vaguely to the other seats. One spot at the table is chair-less and you are stunned to see an empty chair simply roll itself into the slot. You unconsciously utter a little, "meep" of surprise.

"Yes, Captain?" the chair asks as it turns to "face" you. You are so shocked, you’re glad you are already sitting, but suddenly you realize what this might mean and you jump violently from your seat to examine it closely. Looking back at the other chair, you ask, "Did you just say that?"

"Yes, Captain. Ensign J.D. Meep, Navigator, at your service. There's no need to be concerned," he says. "I am the only Aeronian in the Collective. That is just a normal human chair.” Then his voice drops a little deeper as he says, “A very... attractive human chair!"

You breathe a sigh of 70 percent relief and 30 percent revulsion as the other crew members take their places.

"Okay people, let’s get into this. I want your name, your job, and your idea for what to do next. You first, Gus." You sit back and pretend to understand what's going on.

"First Officer Beaux Gus, Captain, the giant bird-man says. "I'm your second in command and I am familiar will all operations on the ship. I think we should stand and fight."

“Very well,” you say. Turning to Gus's right, you motion for the three-eyed FurPerson to speak next.

"I am Weapons Officer Mrroooooow-pffft! In English it translates to, Fuzzy McStiffins. I say we run as far and fast as we can!"

The green and gray officer licks her face with a surprisingly prehensile tongue and says, "I'm Prissy Nubbins, Communications. I have a pet rock named 'Carl’, and my left ankle is artificial, but only as a fashion choice. I once wrote a limerick about dental hygiene to win a contest sponsored by a dentist and the prize was ten pounds of candy. I also tend to over-communicate at inappropriate times and I agree with First Officer Gus, we should BLAST 'EM! ALL OF ‘EM!! AND THEIR PETS!"

Everyone stares at her as she finishes. Mr. McStiffins clears his throat and Gus digs an impressive, but still self-healing furrow in the deck. After a moment, you ask Meep's opinion (although you aren't completely sure what part of him to address).

"As I said, Captain, Ensign J.D. Meep, Navigator, at your service. Respectfully, this seems dangerous and I think we should run like the wind!"

Now that your staff has spoken, you take a moment to contemplate what to do next.

"Okay, people," you announce, "I guess we have a tie. I think we should..."

"Captain?" a quiet voice pipes up. You turn to see the unassuming young red person who had been hovering just beyond the Conference (Action!) table.

"Oh, yes. Sorry. What do you have for me?"

"Well, my name is Janx and I'm only an Intern in the Phlebotomy Lab, but I think we should negotiate with them. We don't know what they really want."

You pause to replay the entirety of your starship experience in your head, certain there was something about this in the first chapter. Eventually, it comes to you.

"Uh, didn't they say they were going to eat us?"

Janx looks around at the accusing stares of the other crew members and bolts for the door. It doesn't open fast enough, he whangs his shoulder on the edge, shoves his way sideways through the opening, and runs out sobbing. His semi-suggestive uniform badge clatters to the floor.

"Hrumpf," you say, with some feeling. Depending on a completely unjustified assumption that your ship is probably tougher than theirs, you make your decision. With all the confidence of an armadillo in headlights, you say, "Okay people, we're going to attack! Back to the Bridge!"

Everyone crowds the door at once until First Officer Gus lets out a terrifying screech and spreads his massive wings, blocking the crew and making a path for you. You make a mental note to find him some nice juicy worms or whatever he likes when this is all over. Back in your Captain’s Chair, you once more strike a pose of supposed confidence.

"Weapons status?" you say to, you know, whomever.

McStiffins, responds, "All weapons systems primed and ready. Target selection protocol?"

"Uh, Epsilon. Sure, that sounds right, Epsilon. Instigate!"

The Weapons Officer pushes some buttons and the view in front of everyone begins to dance with a massive array of colorful explosions, jetting flames, and crackling electricity. You are slightly disoriented by the lack of sound effects, but the visuals are downright Spielbergian. You assume the view screen is at least 4k!

"No effect, Captain." the weapons officer reports.

Dang.

You get a sinking feeling in your stomach and wonder how the crew will react if you ask them where the bathroom is now. Your face remains immobile, due to the shock, and you have a death-grip on your console.

"Captain, they are hailing us," says the green/gray communications officer, Prissy Nubbins. You notice for the first time that her eyes blink sideways, but the knowledge somehow fails to usurp the importance of the current situation. "On screen," you answer, pleased that your voice didn't crack.

There is a hum, a beep, and the view screen is filled with the massive and terrifying image of...Betty White.

You simply stare, open-mouthed for a second or two. Finally you realize that Betty White's hair was never quite that shade of green, nor did it generally have eyes, but everything else about this creature seems straight out of Golden Girls with the same wide smile, bright teeth and red lips. It's even wearing a somewhat frumpy, gingham uniform with a lace collar. Uncanny, really.

He/She/It glares at you, and in a terrifying voice that is far more Dorothy than Rose, it speaks...

"Your display of color-coordination was far superior to anything we thought your puny Collective to be capable of,” the weird Betty White thing says. “Our mighty Braktolian Hegemony values aesthetic harmony above all. This unexpected display of decorative acumen has saved you this day, Collectivites! Tradition now dictates that we relinquish this sector for eleven of your Collective cycles. But mark my words, we will return, and our color displays will overwhelm anything your pathetic Collective could ever imagine!”

The creature leans close in on the camera, or sensor, or whatever space transmitter thing they were using and, in an unreasonably terrifying sotto-voice says, “Thank you for being a friend! Pffasssht out!"

Weird Betty White blinks off the screen. The Pffasssht makes a graceful 180 and stretches off into a perspective point somewhere in the North-West corner of the screen.

"Captain, that was brilliant!" Weapons Officer McStiffins purrs. "How did you know the Epsilon configuration would set up a plasma-harmonic on their shields without causing any damage? That can only happen with tao-muon reactive hadron shielding, but our best intel says the Hegemony is still decades away from that kind of tech!"

"Well, you have to know these things when you're a Captain, you know,” you say.

Gus comes over slowly, not even really scratching the floor this time, and lays a feather across his beak, bowing slightly. "You are clearly the legend I thought you would be when I signed on for this command," he says. Then he turns to the rest of the bridge crew and says, "Let's hear it for the Captain!"

You choose to revel in the adulation.

The crew celebrates your greatness with far more confetti and strobe-lighting than you would have expected to be readily available on the bridge of a ship like this. The Communications Officer pipes Disco music throughout the ship, and Gus shows you a trick with his beak and a shot-glass that would win him a lot of money in a late-night bar back home. Meep drifts off into the corner of the bridge, aiming for a chair sitting all alone by a dark console.

You give the crew a little time to celebrate. As the cheers begin to subside, you address the Communications Officer.

"Please put me on ship-wide, uh."

"Nubbins, Captain!" she smiles, sideways blinking at you. "Lieutenant second-class Prissy Nubbins!"

"Yes, forgive me Lieutenant Nubbins. Ship-wide, if you please."

"Yes, Captain!" She pushes several buttons and gives you a nod.

"This is the captain speaking," you say in your best end-of-the-episode-speech-voice. "The Collective owes you all a debt of gratitude today. We faced the most fearsome threat ever to come from an over-55 galaxy, and if not for the courage of this fearless crew, our mission would be lost! We'd've been eaten by a bunch of geriatric aliens with weird hair. Pat yourselves on the back, crew. I never could have done it without you."

Cheers erupt throughout the ship and the bridge crew beams at you in admiration. After a moment Gus says, "Captain, shall we proceed to our next assignment? There is a report of a weird planet in the DeLorean system where chronometers go backwards and forwards in 30-year increments."

"Sounds good, Gus." you say. "Which button takes us there? I think I'd like to do it myself."

Gus leads you to the navigation console and points to a glowing icon.

You smile and say, "Instigate!" as you tap the console.

As soon as your finger touches the icon, your hair suddenly stands on end. Your mouth tastes coppery and you smell the faintest whiff of...something smoky once again.

There's a crackle of lightning that envelopes you, a feeling you are now pretty familiar with. As you feel yourself being transported once again, you close your eyes and let it happen.

You blink a few times as your hair settles down, and the coppery taste dissipates. The storm outside has passed, and the moon and stars are shining brightly through your picture window.

You drain the refreshing beverage at your side and stand up out of your favorite recliner to stretch. You look down at the TAD 3000 in your hand. The screen shows a new icon you've never seen before.

Centered in the screen at the top, pinned so it stays put when you scroll, you see a glowing lightning-bolt icon.

You smile, power-down the TAD 3000, and head off to bed.

Just as you are about to drift off to sleep, you think to yourself, "Self, I think tomorrow would be an excellent time to see what happens if I click that new icon!"