PAGE # 6


COPYRIGHT 2005/2011

PAGE # 5

Location:  HEXARUS TRIUNE STAR SYSTEM -   ICE STATION SOMMO  -In orbit of Triune # 2  
-central dome-outer quadrant- stations hair salon.

Colonel T.P Sommo felt refreshed and rested after seven hours of sack time and a hot
shower, a clean and pressed uniform, a large breakfast of ham, scrambled eggs, hash
browns, sausage, toast, coffee,  a  bloody Mary with an extra kick  of  190 proof corn liquor,
and now a hot face towel and shave from the salon’s precision service bot “barber.”   The
Colonel felt that having a hair salon would be good for the personnel’s moral and it went
without saying that he expected his “men” (  be they
male/female/unisex/asexual/humanoid/non humanoid/insectoid/xenomorphic…)  to be
neat, clean, presentable, and meeting with  his high standards. The salon was relatively
small as space was in demand with three chairs and two sinks for shampooing, curved walls,
soft ambient lighting, a few tropical plants and large fish tank for a relaxed atmosphere.

A small S.K. 5 model service bot was shining and polishing the Colonels knee high black
jack boots while “Andy” the SK10 series service/ barber bot, complete with apron, bow tie,
and programmed for small talk in a voice that sounded suspiciously like the earth comedian
- Andy Dick (  apparently someone at the factory was familiar with earths television and radio
signals and had a sick sense of humor …)  shaved the Colonel while regaling him with the
latest station gossip concerning who said or did “what” at the morning mess hall  or late
night security shifts, as heard from  other service or security bots who had developed an “ear”
for humanoid gossip and shared it among themselves as a form of entertainment in their
quest to become more sentient and to   “fit in” to Galactic Confederation society.

The Colonel trusted his security and service bots implicitly and they had saved his ass in the
past and had come through for him in a pinch but something was bothering him lately and
after the last skirmish with the Lubricators he was starting to get paranoid about his and the
G.C’s bots being compromised and turning on them.  The Lubricators spooked him. A race of
robots from another galaxy that could rebuild themselves from scratch with any available   
cannibalized  metal, junk, old hardware, appliances, you name it-  they could rebuild
themselves from  it, and almost instantaneously. That made them very hard to destroy and
they had no problem killing and eradicating organic life on a large scale and they had allied
themselves with the Draco and plus he had a few close calls where they almost terminated
him with extreme prejudice.

He kept thinking about Elvis’s favorite sci fi shows and movies about killer robots and
cyborgs and good robots gone bad. It was ironic that a guy who now actually lived in “outer
space” and spent most of his time aboard spaceships, in space stations inside asteroids,
hung out with robots, talking cats, giant crystal spiders, god like computer intelligences,
galactic races from all over the universe, still avidly watched earth science fiction shows and
films like Star Trek, Lost in Space, ALIEN, Battlestar Galactica, etc, but that was Elvis Mellon
for you.  The Lubricators  reminded the Colonel  of  some of the killer robots in these shows,
and  the Lubricators origins in another galaxy came at a bloody and horrendous cost from
what little information the G.C  scientists could glean from captured Lubricator data chips
and cells, and they like many  other artificially created intelligences had turned on their
creators and started a war that consumed most of their galaxy and ended  in some kind of
doomsday scenario for both sides, with a lone Lubricator survivor making it to the Milky way
galaxy  to cause nothing but trouble and mayhem with  its arrival.

Maybe he had watched too many of   Elvis Mellon’s movies with the “robots or computers
take over" scenario   lately but suddenly having “Andy” with a straight razor at his throat did
not seem like the best idea, or maybe he just had too much coffee this morning, but either
way something was spooking him and that irrational human fear or “gut instinct” was
suddenly sending him warning signals.   Andy had just finished shaving him and was still
droning on and on about station gossip when the communicator on his left lapel beeped.  
“Colonel Sommo, this is Sgt. Sssszzivicck, I think you had better come to the command
center and quick! There’s something you really aught to see!”

As the Colonel raced down the corridor to the command center, civilian scientist Veracose
Primm was making her rounds of the stations science lab and its various sections and
projects. She had been selected for this post because of her past field work in everything
from the effects of isolation and harsh  near intolerable climates and environments on G.C
soldiers of various star races, battle fatigue, effects of advanced technological military
occupations on native ecosystems, her study of Draco and Slime physiology, their weaponry,
etc,  she had even spent several years as a front lines battlefield medic before transferring to
the G.C scientific corps. She was married to her work but that did not mean she did not get
lonely every now and then and she enjoyed the company of some of her male colleagues
provided they were not knuckle dragging morons with backed up testosterone, like some of
the military types, though she did find something rather attractive about the combination of
the Colonel’s blatant machismo with his obsessive metrosexualism, she was rather anal
retentive herself and the colonel took it to a whole other level.

She found herself thinking about what would happen after this assignment and if she would
see him again when she saw her chief lab assistant and colleague ,  Tarvish Smegma ,
working on the back of one of the SK10 service bots designated as “Egghead” by Colonel T.P
Sommo. Smegma was
a fellow Plaedian and slightly younger man, not unattractive by Plaedian standards,   with  
the same blue complexion  as hers , a thick crop of white hair, reminding her of a broom  on
his head, a rather thin, angular face with beady little eyes that seldom made contact with
hers. He was not a bot tech or cyberneticist as far as she knew and this series of bots were
not known to have too many errors or technical issues so she was curious as to why this bot
was currently deactivated and Smegma was tinkering with its upper back panel.  She clearer
her throat as she approached him at the corner work station of the brightly lit lab. “Problems
with Egghead?”  Smegma was perspiring slightly and only briefly met her gaze. “Y, yes, uhh,
“He” was complaining about a servomotor sticking in his right upper arm rotator so I thought
I would give him a look.”  Primm found this odd but was too preoccupied with her heavy work
load and schedule to inquire further. She nodded absently and continued on with her
rounds, preoccupied enough that she did not notice that the stasis tube containing the
Slime “corpsicle was empty and there was a trail of slime leading off towards  an air duct.  

Still wiping traces of shaving cream off his chin with a small towel, Colonel T.P Sommo
entered the stations command center like a man possessed. He made a B line for the central
command chair in the center of the dim lit room. The chair was much like the captains chair
in the center of a ships bridge and the command center, the heart and brain of Ice Station
Sommo, was laid out like one. Huge holo screens covered every wall with three large ones
front and center and  rows of computer consul stations with dozens of station personnel,
military and civilian, manning them, flanked the command chair to either side. The stations
huge telescopes transmitted their data to these screens and to the Colonels left, Sgt
Sssszzivicck, her large insectoid bulk taking up an entire row of computer consuls, signaled
for him to watch the center screen in front of him.

The Colonel sat down with a swish of his cape and leaned forward to stare intently at the
center screen. “What am I looking at Sgt?” The image on the screen was an aerial view of the
“No man’s land” in between the front battle lines on Triune # 2. The view kept getting
magnified as the powerful telescope closed in towards the Galactic Confederation side with
its trenches, gun emplacements, shimmering force fields, repulsor “Tanks” with their giant
lazer cannon’s patrolling the G.C side as humanoid and non humanoid troops scrambled
about as the insectoid Sgt.  Gave a running commentary to her commanding officer. “Your
friend Elvis Mellon and his crew arrived in the Visigoth’s transport shuttle, the Viking, and
despite his
Official “outlaw” status, he was treated like royalty.

He was entertaining C.G troops in the safety zone several of what you would call “miles” from
the front line, when we observed THIS happening on the Draco alliance side of things.” The
images the Colonel was seeing on  the central screen  in front of him  was/were of Draco
troop transports landing in tandem  beyond their shielding and barriers in the wasteland,
their anti grav repulsors creating dust storms  that  made visibility near zero.  Out of the
clouds of dust, dozens of packs of some kind of huge creatures, vaguely reminding the
Colonel of Yarmaw’s but much more hideous and   larger, emerged.

These things had body armor, and looked like some kind of   half dinosaur half dragon
combination and Draco soldiers in full battle gear were riding  on some of them, obviously on
the pack leaders. They were charging across the no man’s land towards the C.G front lines as
Sgt. Sssszzivicck continued her commentary. “The images you’re seeing are from ten
minutes ago, watch what happens next.” The Colonel sat forward in his command chair,
transfixed and as still as a statue as he watched this bizarre scene play out in front of him.
The Draco mounted on these strange six legged armored beasts like some kind of mutated
Super Yarmaw’s, fired some kind of lazer rifles at the C.G Defenses and the shimmering
force fields went down in some areas.

The Colonels jaw dropped and his eyes widened like saucers, his bushy eye brows rising as
he glanced sideways at his Mantis Sgt. “they have PULSE rifles??!! Jeeeeezzus H Christ on a
God dammed cracker!!!! Where the Hell did they get THAT technology from?”  The C.G tanks
were blasting at the packs of armored monsters but the lazer and plasma bolts were
bouncing harmlessly off their body shielding and armor. The Draco riders were shooting at
the tanks with their pulse rifles, rendering them inert, dead and devoid of energy.
Confederation soldiers, a variety of humanoid, Plaedian,

Lyran, Sirian, etc, with non human troops such as the “Vash” , that resembled  Badgers from
Earth, and “Murdoccks” , a sort sentient  plant, a bizarre cross between a tree and a walking
carrot, all scrambled out onto the battlefield from the trenches, firing at the oncoming horde
with hand held lazer cannons and rifles. The Monsters were on them before they could fire
more then a shot,  impaling them on their gruesome horns, spitting neurotoxins at them
and grabbing them in their huge fanged mouths , dripping with  ooze and biting them in two
or swallowing them  whole, body armor, boots and all!

The Draco were blasting the C.G gun emplacements and pill boxes with their pulse rifles,
rendering them useless  and some were all ready breaching the trenches, their monstrous
mounts jumping down into the C.G defenses and scooping up and battering C.G troops like
bowling balls  knocking down pins. Behind these bizarre packs of  deadly creatures marched
several phalanx of super mutant cockroaches with lazer and projectile cannon’s mounted on
their backs, some manned by Draco  foot soldiers or Gray cyborg clones, legions of Draco
shock troops took up the rear guard along with countless Slime and  Lubricator troops. Short
range G.C atmospheric fighters, of Lyran and Sirian design strafed the armored beasts but
the Draco riders shot them out of the sky with their pulse rifles, the sleek, formidable
fighters, their engines and power systems dead, fell like meteors, crashing into to their own
defenses in fiery Explosions, raining down burning plasma and molten lead on their own

Colonel T.P Sommo was out of his chair and pacing in front of the holo screens, agitated and
flustered. “What in God’s creation are those frigging things??? Those Draco bastards must
have been planning this for months, those sneaky sons of bitches!!  It’s a God dammed blood
bath down there, I have to get down there!! Where did those sons of Motherless whores get
pulse rifles?? That aint fighting fair, but those cold blooded lizard sons of shit never did play
by the rules!! Get me C.G central command immediately!!”  The Mantis Sgt. Held a long front
claw up in the air and robotically cocked her head. “Sir, I cannot seem to get through, all
transmissions are being blocked!”  Colonel T.P Sommo kicked the base of his command chair
with his left boot.

“I know someone they can’t block!” He pulled a small communicator the size of a cigarette
lighter from his jacket pocket and clicked a button it as he shouted. “Come in Elvis, you fat
drunken bastard, this is your buddy Colonel T.P Sommo!” A deep baritone voice came from
the communicator. “This is Elvis Mellon, I cant come to the phone right now cause I am busy
getting up to no good, please leave a name and message after the belch.” (Sound of a loud
belch….)  The Colonel did not look amused and shouted into the small device. “I aint in the
mood for your bullshit right now you whiskey soaked degenerate!! I know that’s you and not
a recording!!”  Laughter came from the device. “We are on  our way  up to see you, keep your
pants on, things  got a little dicey down on Triune # 2 , what with those six legged killer
mutants that  are ninety percent  mouth!!, expect us to arrive in , well, how about now?”  

Minutes later Colonel T.P Sommo had assembled an impromptu reception committee at
landing pad # 3 outside Dome three.  A Force field kept the inclement weather and bitter
cold out surrounding the large landing pad, with an enclosed walkway leading from the
Dome. The Colonel, his Mantis Sgt.  Lieutenant Lightner, private Keppler, with several  other
former earth special forces  members  and civilian scientist Veracose Primm, along with two
security bots stood in the walk way opening to the landing pad, watching the Elvis Mellon’s
shuttle/scout ship, “The Viking,”
Descend through the raging blizzard with gale force winds. It was morning on this planetoid
with its eight hours of day light and eight hours of night as the daily blizzard and ice storm
caused a near white out a cross the flat fields of ice the station with its three domes was built

Visigoth seldom made planet landings due to its size, but it had two smaller craft, the Viking
and the Vandal for such occasions. The Viking in its current configuration resembled and old
S.S.T –super sonic jet from Earth and was about the size of one, with an off white paint job
that made it almost blend in with the swirling snow.  The Colonel and his team felt the chill
air as the force field lowered to allow Viking to land, the ships landing gear was extending as
the whine of its engines became subdued as it powered down.
Veracose Primm had heard plenty of stories about this strange human from the fabled savage
frontier world of earth, and she had seen him in holo vid news broadcast and those primitive
television transmissions from that backwards world, those programs from a place called
“Burbank” and Las Vegas, but she had never met him in person nor any of his crew save the

Colonel and he was at this point just an honorary member.

She recognized the letters painted on the side of the ship in red, as earth English, similar to
galactic standard, and below the name “VIKING” was scrawled the motto “IF you can’t F*#@&
it, KILL IT!!”  She was not quite sure what to make of that as the landing ramp extended and
the hatch slid open and the huge “bear” of a man came sauntering down it, wearing his
standard issue-  beige sport coat, denim shirt with loud tie ( this one  had guitars on it )  

Jeans, green converse all star basket ball sneakers, a brass Harley Davidson belt buckle
underneath his rather impressive beer gut and his usual battered dark brown fedora on his
full head of brown and gray  hair. His well trimmed beard was reddish brown with streaks of
gray and mirrored aviator sunglasses hid his bloodshot pale blue eyes. She noticed he had a
clear glass of some brown liquid and ice cubes in it. The man had just landed on one of the
coldest and most inhospitable asteroid/planetoids in the galaxy, a ball of ice spinning in a
crazy orbit, and he had ice cubes in his drink. Next to him walked a four legged feline, a
“Russian blue” (Smoke Gray fur)  short haired house cat wearing a pair of black rectangular
spectacles, she recognized it as Elvis Mellon’s famous “Mr. Smokey,  said to be the true
brains of the group, aside from the god like super computer intelligence known as “Virgil.”

Elvis Mellon was shaking hands with the colonel as Doctor Primm noticed the other tall
human male walking behind the legendary outlaw. This she surmised was the infamous
Doctor Sax, another one of Elvis and the Colonels trusted friends and cohorts. He was a tall
slim man wearing a wide brimmed black hat with a mop of blond curly hair, clean shaven,
thin face, dressed all in black with a black leather duster, gray scarf, black knee high boots,
his eyes were in shadow but when he lifted his head to look around his steel gray eyes
looked right through her and she shivered. She had heard plenty of rumors about this man,
said to be some mad scientist turned mercenary and soldier of fortune. The Draco and Grays
feared him and that spoke volumes in it’s   self. Veracose Primm had seen enough earth
American “westerns” from Colonel T.P Sommo’s collection   during her brief time off to
recognize a “gun slinger,” and Doc Sax was carrying some heavy ordinance under his duster
and he had  that cold blooded, calculating look as he scanned his surroundings.

Accompanying Doc Sax was a nine foot tall, lime green, hairy ape creature, a giant that made
Elvis Mellon and Doc Sax look like children. It was a massive hominid that must have
weighed at least eight hundred pounds galactic standard with fluffy lime green hair that
spiked  out on its head and no cloths to speak of except it carried  a large brown leather   
satchel at its waist and a massive war club hung on its back.

This was “Grond,” the Doc’s friend and traveling companion for many years, from a species of
arboreal primates. The Colonel was making introductions to Doctor Primm and his team and
she was making polite chatter with Elvis Mellon and Doctor Sax as she noticed two more
humanoids walking down the ramp. She immediately recognized Professor Krophf, a famous
and highly regarded G.C astrophysicist, pioneering cyberneticist, all around genius “Mad
scientist"  and one of his creations, an advanced sentient android named “Voltaire.”

Professor Krophf was a husky man who looked the part of mad scientist and genius with a
seemingly larger cranium then most humans, a high forehead with brown thinning hair that
gave him a distinguished look. He wore wire frame spectacles a white shirt and tie, white lab
coat, slacks and penny loafers and carried some kind of brief case hand cuffed to his wrist.  
She had not realized that he was an acquaintance of this infamous group of celebrity
outlaws.  The android looked totally  human except for his skin color, which was like
polished silver, like liquid metal, as was his sculpted “hair, ” he had the look of a young
humanoid male in his twenties with a handsome face, rather pointed  nose, green eyes, a
stylish purple suit and elegant ankle high  blue boots.  Doctor Primm felt rather flushed as
she met Professor Krophf and Voltaire, who the Professor introduced as his “son.”

She was telling him what an honor it was to meet him and looking around at the surreal
sight of the raging blizzard hitting the shimmering force field around them that held the
heat in and formed a type of half domed bubble around them as she noticed an enormous
set of what looked like translucent purplish/violet glass or crystal legs/appendages that
ended in sharp pincer clawed feet, coming out of the opened hatch. This was the fabled
“spider, “both horrific and beautiful to look at. It was larger then the Insectoid Mantis and it
barely fit through the large hatch. It’s bent “knee joints” came up  a good foot or two  over
Elvis’s head as   its enormous bulk clattered down the ramp followed by another  almost
identical  bluish turquoise  translucent spider . Veracose knew from her earth science
entomology books that these spiders resembled giant earth tarantulas.

They both had twenty glittering grapefruit sized eyes that looked like diamonds and rotated
in different directions. Trailing behind the spiders was a small cylindrical robot with an old
fashioned neon light in the shape of a martini glass with a cherry in it, blinking on and off
and another blinking neon light that said “COLD BEER,” but Doctor Primm could not take
her eyes off the spiders and the bright lights of the Viking , the bot and the landing pad
refracted off of them and seemed to make them glow from the inside. The Colonel noticed
her starring and leaned in close and said. “Do not stare at the Purplish one too long, he gets
very uptight and agitated and BELIEVE ME, You do NOT want to piss him off!!”  

As Elvis Mellon’s motley crew greeted and mixed with Colonel T.P Sommo’s station personnel
and the two monstrous crystalline spiders sized up the insectoid Mantis Sgt. And exchanged
stories about putting up with annoying humanoids and even the security bots conversed in
standard G.C robotic code ( also sharing stories about putting up with annoying humans and
non human insectoids and  Arachnids )  the Colonel was manically trying to convince Elvis
Mellon to give him a lift down to the middle planet “below.”  “Come on, brother, I need to get
down there, you saw what those things were doing to the confederation troops!!

It’s a blood bath down there and those cold blooded lizard sons of bitches have broken the
stale mate!! YOU were down there; why the Hell didn’t you and that fancy pants super A.I
intelligence  with all that advanced technology do something to help  those poor
bastards??!”  Elvis Mellon took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his
scalp. “You know I can’t use that technology to interfere and Virgil has been forbidden to
interfere, YOU know that! And besides, what’s wrong with your shuttles and scout ships?” He
motioned to the small C.G ships sitting on the other landing pad in the distance. “I thought
you’re under orders to remain here and keep observing?”

The Colonel threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of frustration. “F&^% my orders!!   
You could have me down there in seconds with Viking or Virgil could just beam me down
there! Don’t you care what happens to those people down there? God dam it man, the Draco
could win this war!!!!”
Professor Krophf, Voltaire, Doctor Sax and Grond were all listening to this conversation from
close by and everyone was looking at Elvis for his response.  Elvis happened to look up into
the storm filled sky of swirling snow and ice storms and lightning to see the blinking
running lights of an approaching C.G shuttle. “I think I may have a plan.” Before he could
say more a voice came over the landing pads com link loud speaker “Lyran supply shuttle
“Pulsar nine.” Requesting clearance to land, all codes correspond.”  The Colonel looked up at
the approaching shuttle and frowned then nodded tiredly. “Funny, I don’t remember
ordering any supplies but  O.K,  clearance is given.”  To be continued  
This file is not intended to be viewed directly using a web browser. To create a viewable file, use the Preview in Browser or Publish to Yahoo! Web Hosting commands from within Yahoo! SiteBuilder.