"Guys," chuckled the angel, "we're going to steal Frosttime.
"And this is how we're gonna do it..."
We now return to your regularly scheduled programme...
-------
Prison Warden Frak was pissed.
It was his default state of being. He'd been pissed when the Dark Angel had been dragged before Her Lady and yelled at, he'd been pissed when he dragged him into the prison level of the ship and threw him in a cell, and right now he was even more pissed thanks to a bottle of Ol Janx Spirit. This was his idea of a good day - fuck all to do but eat and drink, shit and piss, maybe sleep. So there he was, slouched on the break room sofa with a bottle in one hand, a taco in the other and several more bottles scattered about him. This was definitely shaping up to be one of his Best Days Ever.
No, he wasn't fucking going to work! It was Frosttime, for Nibiru's sake! The Independance Feast was coming up, there were medals for his service lying in a dusty desk somewhere and there was still some distilled Hypercider somewhere calling his name! So were some fancy glowy screens he had to watch - who cared? Nobody ever broke out of the cells on their own, because nobody in the universe seemed smart enough to figure out how to break Skaro Magnalocks! So there was no reason to pay attention to the screens, and every reason to get drunk, as he was doing now.
Yes, the Vulturite decided as he took another swig of Ol Janx. This was a fucking brilliant day. And he was, in all senses of the word, pissed beyond belief.
So he didn't notice when the door to the break room broke open and the crowd of former prisoners stormed in. Nor did he react when he was picked up in the claw of an enraged Macra, who passed him to a seething Yujata, who hauled him into the arms of an irate Grey, who flung him into the grip of a fuming Taurian, who dumped him at the feet of a llama holding a soldering iron-
"Caaaaaaaarl!"
...Fuck.
-------
Being a chef on a massive Nibirian cruiser was a constant headache.
Head Provisions Officer Daeg could testify to that. He couldn't tell you the number of personel on board the ship off the top of his head - that was all done with computers now. But at a rough estimate, it was close to a hundred people - officers, engineers, navigators, guards and regular soldiers all thrown together in one great big mass of hungry stomachs. Factor in the number of prisoners that were often taken on board, as well as the differing tastes of everybody on the ship and... well, you had long shifts with little sleep, among other things. The roster for worker shifts on these ships were just insane.
Preparing a single massive meal for everyone, however, was a different matter. It was no longer a case of making sure they had enough of one specific thing for Janitor Blun or whoever - now, it was just a matter of quantity. They had the menu planned out perfectly, and all they had to do was ensure that they would have enough to satisfy everyone who wanted one thing or another. On top of that, some of the prisoners were going to feature heavily in the ingredients - the thought of slicing up a helpless Kaled mutant made Daeg cackle with glee, knowing full well it would be one less mouth to feed. And he had to admit, there was a certain joy in perparing all these lavish meals for Her Lady - it allowed him to exercise his craft as a cook more, knowing full well that the rich food would be appreciated for a long time to come, as was the way with festive meals.
So yes, he was feeling quite good today. So good that he didn't think twice before letting the new ameteur cook in to have a crack at the chocolate pudding. So what if he was a wobbly weed of a fledgeling with no sense of balance and an oddly-derformed beak? It would be good experience for him to prepare the desserts for everyone on board, to experience the rush and clamour of the Independance Day Cooking Spree. Nothing could possibly go wrong at this stage, surely! All was going to plan!
Five minutes later, and the kitchen was a graveyard. Soups and sauces formed a veritable oil slick on the ground, with nobody able to stand on their feet for a second without collapsing in a heap. Meats and vegetables of different sizes, shapes and preparations were pasted onto the walls - how they even got there was still a mystery. Globs of pudding and splats of custard were everywhere, as were the unconcious bodies of one or two cooks who hadn't gotten out of the way in time. And in the middle of it all was Daeg, dripping with cranberry sauce, curled up in a pile of mush that was once stuffing and gently weeping for the state of the universe.
And, outside the door, the trio of elves shed their disguise, hopped off each other's shoulders, giggling like lunatics.
-------
"WHAT IS GOING ON?!" screamed Lady Glacia in her throne room.
It seemed like everything had been going according to plan. The food was being prepared, the prisoners were being watched and everything was on schedule. She'd been looking extremely forward to dining on her hated enemy and killer of her husband, and then returning home in triumph and contentment. So when in all the Seven Continents did things suddenly take a turn down into Shitville?! She'd called Head Provisions Officer Daeg for a status update on the condiments, only to recieve hysterical sobbing and half-gibbered explanations and pleas for mercy instead. And then, when alarms had started blaring, she'd turned on the cameras to see her dinner running amok in the lower levels!
Dropping her face into her palms, the Nibirian let out a humongous sigh of irritation. That's what happens, she decided, when you hire Vulturites. In a sense, they hadn't evolved past the carrion-eating, excrement-flinging days before the Annunaki had arrived - despite their newfound proficiency with technology, they were still unbelievably single-minded, selfish and thick. So it was no wonder that things had hit Space Mexico in such a short time as they did, and in all honesty it had only been a matter of time before somebody cocked up. If only it hadn't been now, with Frosttime looming.
There was only one thing for it. As the reptillian princess lifted her face from her palms and gazed upon the Earth, it's serene glow almost taunting her stress and annoyance, the old adage crept through her mind like a spider on the prowl.
"If you want something done right," she hissed to the universe in general, "you do it yourself."
With a fluid, effortless motion, she lifted herself from her throne and slithered out of the room, her scales making only the tinest scraping noises.
-------
Dirk heaved a massive sigh of relief as he watched the assorted alien prisoners file into the escape pods, one by one. The plan so far had been a success - thanks to the Dalek's schematics, he and the others were able to locate the various services on the ship - kitchen, escape pods, engine room, the works. After much debate, it was decided that the five should split into groups to deal with the three different problems presented - namely, getting the prisoners off the ship, ruining the dinner and dealing with Lady Glacia's forces. Dirk had taken up the first responsibility, using Maisy's comb to open the cell doors and ushering the confused creatures and races out.
It hadn't taken long for them to figure out what was going on, and soon they were rampaging through the corridors in the traditional mob mentality, trampling and killing any unfortunate Vulturites that crossed their path. In fact, many of them were clamouring to simply storm the bridge and take out Lady Glacia in one massive mob, and whilst Dirk was not against that idea as a whole, he reasoned that it'd be better overall if they simply got off the ship. And so here he was, watching as Taurians, Greys, Zygons and more filed into the pods and shuttles, ready to fly home.
It wouldn't be much trouble, he'd been reassured. The Dalek had told him the ship eas in a geo-starionary orbit above Earth, and was within range of all the major star systems, so getting home wouldn't be a problem for these assorted aliens. Dirk briefly wondered where that Dalek was right now, then dismissed the thought. It'd be fine, he reasoned. Those overgrown saltshakers were known for tenacity, if nothing else, and it wasn't like it'd be fretting over his progress at all. No need to contact it or anything - there were more pressing concerns right now.
Turning away from the group, the Dark Angel procured a communicator from his pocket - earlier on, he'd cheekily knocked out a pair of Vulturite guards and pilfered these disc-like objects from their ultility belts. Another one had been handed to Merry and, after some fiddling, the two had managed to sync the devices up so they could keep tabs on each other before going their separate ways. Pressing the button, Dirk lifted the disc to his mouth, looking around to make sure he was alone before speaking.
"Merry? How goes the sabotage? Because I'm done up here, and I'll need you to- UMPH!"
He hadn't looked hard enough.
She'd found him.
-------
"Dirk? Dirk?!"
"...No answer! Oh, no, Merry, I think he's in trouble!"
"Calm down, Maisy! Our job's done - all we gotta do is go back and help him!"
"Well, that goes without saying! Come on, you two!"
And with that, the three elves drop their communicator and dash down the corridor, headed back the way they come. In their haste to aid their friend, none of them notive the service elevator sliding into position in the opposite wall, a pinging noise announcing it's arrival onto the floor. If they had, they might have seen that it had just come up from Floor 0 - the engine room, where the vital machinery that kept the ship moving and afloat in the void of space.
As well as the lone Dalek that emerged, triumph in it's eyestalk.
-------
Sine may not have talked much to anyone else about the invisible monster she and Zeph fought, or "That Awful Thing", as she called it. But she can probably still remember when it first attacked, trying to squeeze the life out of her before the Robot Master swooped in and saved her. She described the experience as being "wrapped in a hot, wet washcloth", a comical expression that did nothing to dampen the threat of death by either crushed bones or suffocation looming over her. In short, the way she'd described it indicated that it probably an extremely unpleasant experience.
Dirk would argue that being in the coils of a Nibirian was worse.
Not that I'd reccomend trying it, he mentally added. The experience was probably what an orange goes through in the juicing machine - a horrid, warm pressure from all sides, completely engulfing his body and limbs and tightening with every second. The angel couldn't move so much as a finger, arms locked to his sides by ten-inch-thick ropes of muscle, unable to even pull the trigger on the laser that was still in one hand or kick out against his captor. Not only were his bones beginning to deform from the pressure, but getting breath of any sort was becoming more and more difficult as his lungs were slowly compressed inwards, depleting his air supply little by little.
As the angel grunted in pain, spots flashing in front of his eyes, the face of Lady Glacia descended ino view. He could hear shouts and screams from somwhere far off - had the prisoners been found by Vulturite guards? He hoped they weren't panicking and stampeding right now, or everything would go to shit.
"I have to admit," she hissed, faced inches from Dirk's, "this is new! I haven't had a prison break on my ship for as long as I can remember, and certaintly not a riot this big! Congratulations on making history, Dirk - too bad you won't live long enough to celebrate it!" And a laugh like icicles on a window pane rattled through the corridor.
At any other time, Dirk would have fired back with a witty retort, or at least a simple "shut the fuck up" or similar. However, on this occasion this wasn't an option - the Nibirian had managed to get a loop of her tail around his mouth, holding it shut to stop him from calling out for help. On top of that, it further diminished his ability to breathe, and what little air he could draw in through his nose wasn't enough to diminish the ringing in his ears. So he had to be content with a defiant glare, even as his face began to rapidly turn blue from lack of oxygen.
"It's a shame that you've made a mess of my schedule like this," the princess continued, running a claw across the angel's exposed cheek tauntingly. "But really, all you've done is delay the feat by a day or so. And to me and my loyal subjects, that's no problem at all. All we have to do is round up those pesky escapees of yours and get them preserved, ready for cooking whilst we clean up your mess and get things ready. And as for you..."
The coils tightened, and Dirk gave a muffled scream as something creaked inside him. A forked tongue slid out from between Glacia's fangs and lapped at her teeth, her eyes glinting maliciously.
"I wonder what raw angel tastes like..."
"LET HIM GO!"
Glacia rolled her eyes in exasperation, turning in the air to face the source of the shout. "Oh, what-?"
And that's when Punchy's fist collided with her face, and Maisy's boot found it's place in her stomach. The combined attack sent the cold-blooded creature sailing backwards, blood trailing from a broken nose as she slammed into the far wall before collapsing in a heap on the floor. At the same time, the coils around Dirk loosened considerably, and the Dark Angel slid out of the coccoon and landed with a thump on his butt, gulping down lungfuls of air like a starving man binging on praline truffles. Merry was instantly by his side, helping him to his feet as the world slowly came back into focus.
"Are you alright, Mr. Dirk?" the Elf was heard to cry out, although Dirk's hearing was still somewhat muffled.
"Yeah, I'll live," gasped Dirk. His innards felt like play-dough after that, and every one of his bones was screaming in pain. But he didn't get to dwell on it for long, because in the next second Glacia had righted herself, tail thrashing like a whip, and the angel had to throw himself to the floor to avoid being smacked in the face it. The Nibirian towered over him, eyes bulging in her head and turning purple with rage, and the three elves backed away from their enemy as panic suddenly seized them.
"I WILL MOUNT YOUR HEADS ON MY MANTLEPIECE!" Glacia shrieked.
"You're welcome to try, fuckface," snarled Dirk, scrambling to his feet.
Hissing, Glacia charged...
...and screamed as a claw caught her across the face, causing her to spin in mid-air and miss Dirk by incles. As she struggled to right herself, undulating like a ribbon in the wind, the Macra that had been among the prisoners lumbered forward, clacking it's pincers and chittering with defiance and anger. Beneath it, Vulturites that had been trying to round up the escapees howled as they were trampled and prodded by it's pointed feet, and other aliens began to bunch up behind the massive crab, uttering their own rebellious cries.
Glacia swivelled to face this new attacker, seething with injured pride. But she wasn't able to make a move before the Taurian charged in, bellowing, and caught her in the stomach with a swinging fist, sending her sliding backwards. The Yujata's laser shot missed her head by a whisker, leaving a seething burn in the wall, but the Grey's telekinatic blast didn't, and the pummled princess teetered from the onslaught, off-balance for a few precious moments as her former captives advanced.
And that's when Dirk seized his chance. With a yell, the dark angel spread his wings and leapt into the air, tackling Glacia around the midsection and sending them both crashing to the floor of the ship. Both of them immediately began tumbling around on the ground, shouting and snarling in a mad struggle, lost in a tangled ball of scales and feathers. Caught off-guard by Dirk's sudden bold assault, the elves and aliens watched from the sidelines, unsure of what to do as their friend and savour respectively duked it out with their opressor, punching and kicking and occasionaly biting.
Glacia's tail suddenly shot up, curling around and around.
Maisy screamed and covered her eyes.
There was a brief symphony of banging and crashing and grunting...
....
...Maisy looked again.
Breathing heavily, but with a triumphant look on his face, Dirk climbed off of the tangled knot that was Glacia and walked over to the elves.
"So," he asked the sea of surprised and bemused faces, "what's next?"
As if on cue, the sound of a massive explosion tore through the ship like thunder, and the entire thing shook like a fresh jelly as a terrible force surged through it. Cries of fright rippled through the crowd of former prisoners as they staggered this way and that, trying to keep their balance on the rocking ship, and Dirk had to dig his Klausium hand into the side of the corridor to stay upright, buckling the metal in his grip. The elves themselves tumbled about like ninepins, screaming as they went, and even the Vulturites around went into a panic, dropping their weapons and scrambling away from the carnage.
And then, just to add even more to the confusion, alarms went off and lights started flashing.
"WHAT THE FLYING FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Dirk screamed above the screaming of the pasengers and blaring of klaxxons. He didn't remember explosions being a part of the sabotage at all! Ruined food and escaped prisoners, yes, but not explosions! Okay, so he'd sent the Dalek down to disable the engines so that the ship couldn't chase after the escape pods, but-
...The Dalek.
The tannoy crackled on.
-------
"This is Dalek Krang of the 20th Skaro Battlefleet, speaking to all inferior life forms aboard the Nibirian vessel.
"The engine of this ship has been detonated, and it is now currently headed on an impact course with the planet Earth. Impact will occur in approximately forty-two Rels, and will destroy a significant amount of the lower levels of the vessel. All re-entry systems have been disabled - heat shields are offline and retro-rockets are incapable of motion. In addition, all landing gear has been sabotaged and will self-destruct if any attempts to engage it are made. Calculated survivor count of impact... zero.
"To summarize... you will all be exterminated!
"Initating Temporal Shift!"
*click*
-------
A horrible silence.
Nobody moved, nobody spoke. The Macra didn't chitter, the Grey didn't hiss, the llamas had stopped bickering. Apart from the screaming of the alarms and the panicked calls of the Vulturites as they lost their minds (as usual), there wasn't a sound. Everyone just sort of... stood there, unable to grasp what was happening, unsure of what to do.
Then Dirk felt a tugging on his chiton, and looked down. Merry was standing next to him, on the verge of breaking down, and the other elves were bunched behind him, also trying not to cry. It was a few horrible, pained seconds before he spoke, voice cracked with emotion.
"We're... we're going to die... aren't we?"
Dirk looked down at the blue eyes, shining with tears. At the faces and eyes and muzzles and god knows what else aimed at him. Some hopefully, some desparingly, some with no trace of emotion at all, some incapable of showing emotion for various reasons. Glacia's angry glare didn't count, because she probably deserved this, in his opinion. At the iron-gray walls that were rapidly becoming a death trap for everyone on board.
And saw nothing. Not a hope. They'd been so close, so close to getting away scott free, and now they were all going to die. All because Dirk had lost enough brain cells to trust a fucking Dalek with something.
But he couldn't bring himself to say it.
I need a miracle...
-------
Somewhere, somehow, his voice was heard.
And Arceus lifted his head and said: Let it be so.
-------
And that's when he felt it.
It was almost the same sensation as it had been on Lapulas - a warmth, starting as a faint glow in his core but spreading out like waves on an ocean. Only this time, as it grew within him from a murmer to a throb to a pulse, it didn't stop. It wasn't a seed this time, it was a well, a fountain that gushed heat and power that filled him like an empty bottle and it was leaking out of his mose and mouth, anywhere it could. But it was coming too fast, it was filling faster than it emptied and sparks were dancing off his fingers, and he thought he heard Merry say something but he seemed so far away-
And then he burst.
The light that filled the corridor was so great everyone had to shield their eyes. Even those who didn't have eyes, like the Quarks. And then came the voice, a voice that boomed loud enough to drown the sirens, but was still the same old cocky irish accent the elves knew.
"Right, then! Now that I'm conviniently a God, let's set about saving your arses! Get to the upper levels, you lot - I'll take care of this!"
A rush of warm wind, a beat of wing. And when the light died down and everyone could see again, Dirk was gone.
After a minute, they decided that standing around made them look rather stupid. And so they turned and headed for the elevators.
-------
The ship wasn't hard to miss. A huge lump of metal, descending from space at breakneck speeds, tends to be quite visible. And in the Manhattan skyline, it looked like a tidal wave of metal and fire, screaming down from the sky towards them. It's glow was conspicuous enough for some people to stop and look up at it, to point it out to each other and stop driving to observe it. The thought that it might impact with their fair city and decimate several square miles of land, as well as crushing them in a fiery inferno, never occured to them.
Many didn't even notice the shining light breaking out of it, swooping around in a circle to disappear into the flames again.
By the time anyone thought to start panicking, the ship was already slowing down in midair. So some didn't bother. Instead they watched, open-mouthed as, with the sound of protesting metal, the great disc began to swerve, changing it's course so that instead of careening headlong towards the city, it was now sort of lazily drifting towards the bay. Okay, sure, it came quite close to skimming the tops of skyscrapers, but after all the stuff the city had been through it would have been more amazing if it didn't.
It didn't so much land in the water as bellyflop. The waves it produced, whilst large, weren't anything to crow about in the grand scheme of things. But for three whole minutes, none of the coast guard or armed forces that moved in could get near for the steam that rose from it. You could have stuck a turkey in it and it would have roasted to perfection.
When they finally got the doors to open, they were very surprised indeed.
-------
"So," mused Dirk as he looked over the hustle and bustle of activity. "What's next?"
"Oh, the others will get home fine," chimed Merry. "The shuttles have enough fuel to get them back to their own galaxies, thanks to those kind military people!"
"And Lady Glacia?" Dirk squinted as he thought he saw the two llamas walk away from the gathering of soldiers and operatives, still bickering.
Punchy snickered behind one meaty fist. "On a one-way pod to Nibiru, with a warrant for her arrest and trial."
Dirk couldn't help but let a grin form on his face. "You sneaky bugger."
"I try."
A pause.
And then Dirk turned to look down on the elves, smiling hugely.
"Right," he cheerily exlaimed. "There's a big pile of presents at home with my name on it, and I've gotta get back in time to open them. So, if you don't mind..."
"Oh, not at all!" Merry's eyes twinkled with delight has he remembered. "We've got to be getting home ourselves - Mr. Kringle will be picking us up soon and taking us back to Lapulas!"
Dirk nodded. "Well, not gonna kep you waiting, then. See you around and all that." And with that, the Dark Angel turned and began the long walk back to-
"Mr. Dirk!"
Dirk paused, looked back and blinked. "Yes, Maisy- Oh."
He blinked again.
Then he knelt down, and Merry and Punchy flinched. But their expressions changed when the angel knelt down and, instead, whispered something into Maisy's ear. Whatever he said, it was enough for the elf to stiffen, and her ears turned a very visible red that surprised the other two. Then, without a word and only a small smile of amusement, Dirk stood up, turned around and resumed his walk homewards.
As he left, Punchy ambled up and tapped Maisy on the shoulder.
"Hey, Maisy. What did he say?"
Maisy turned to him, eyes wide and face like a tomato.
"He... He already has a girlfriend!"
--------
Walking back home, the Party Pavillion looming into view, Dirk looked up to the sky and smiled.
Thanks a bunch, Arceus.
~ YOU HAVE BEEN READING~
DIRKMAS 2: This Time It's Personal
A Zoofights Roleplay Side-Story
Inspired by Doctor Who, Dragon Ball Z Abridged and Some Other Shit
Written by Steel Komodo
~WITH THE VOICE TALENTS OF~
ANTONIO DEL RIO as Dirk Angelos
ELIJAH WOOD as Merry Elf
JOHN C. REILY as Punchy Elf
KAT STEEL as Maisy Elf
ANNE HATHAWAY as Lady Glacia
JIM CUMMINGS as Commander Varn the Vulturite
FRANK WELKER as the Macra, the Predator and the Grey
JASON STEELE as Paul and Carl the Llamas
and introducing NICHOLAS BRIGGS as the voice of Dalek Krang
and DEIMOS THE TAURIAN as himself
~FEATURING THE FOLLOWING MUSIC~
"Dare" by Stan Bush
"The Daleks" by Murray Gold
"Here Comes Trouble" from Banjo-Tooie by Grant Kirkhope
"The A-Team Theme" by Mike Post, Pete Carpenter & The Daniel Caine Orchestra
"Crisis" from Dragon Ball Z: Budokai Tenkaichi 2 by Takanori Arima
"The Long Song" by Murray Gold
"O Come All Ye Faithful" by Twisted Sister
"Party Hard" by Andrew WK
~ THANKS FOR READING!~
~MERRY CHRISTMAS!~
Sine: I CALL SALVAGE!
ReplyDeleteOh, and good you're alive too Dirk.