Book of the One 2/3 - The Coming of the One

A continuation of the creation myth, again adapted from “Old Father Bindlestein’s Fairy Tales and Fables”. This is the point where most religions on Dragonus begin to divulge - the Barbarian tribes of the Crested Peaks claim that humans were descended from giants, for example, whilst the Drow claim that Dragonus took them from the moon when he saw them growing on it. The Church of Claudandus is a different matter entirely, rejecting the existence of both Dragonus and the One as well as all other godly beings except its own, but that is a discussion for another time.

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And now, during that time when Dragonus was having His First Great Sleep, all the animals and birds, insects and fish lived together in the world. For they were all great friends, and did no harm to each other, but ate the grass of the fields. They also lived very long lives, longer than any beast has lived, for Death had not yet come into the world. Many looked very different from what they were now - the snake had many legs, for example, and was the fastest runner in the world. But that, and many others, are stories for another time.

Then it came to pass that, who knows after how long, the sky opened up and something fell out of it, much as Dragonus Himself had done. Only this was not another being like him, but a great shining stone, as large as an ox-cart and made of crystal moonlight. And it fell from the sky faster than even the snake could run and landed at the foot of the Great Mountain where Dragonus was sleeping. And the noise it made was so great that every animal for miles around heard it, and wondered if the sky itself was falling.

When the cool of evening fell, the stone was still there, glowing as brightly as the moon, so that everyone for miles around could see it. And all the animals and birds and insects came to have a look at it, from the smallest sparrow to the biggest bear, from the crawling basilisk to the noble stag. So they all gathered at the foot of the mountain and saw the stone lying there, shining brightly, and wondered what it was and where it could have come from. For from within they could sense something strange about it, something not of the world, much like Dragonus had been to the First Things.

Eventually, Lord Stag said, "I fear that this stone may be dangerous. For its light is so bright it could be harmful, and who knows what other things it could bring here. It does not belong on this world, my friends, and we must do something about it."

Then one of the Council of the Owls said, "If it has fallen out of the sky, surely we should put it back somehow?"

"That is impossible," said Old Bruin, the eldest of the bears."No creature among us has the strength to put it back in the sky."

And then the Drake, who was a very proud and vain creature, stepped forth and said, "In my dreams, I have seen such a stone fall from the sky, and it's light shone upon me so that I could see the whole world. And I saw all the animals and plants bending down, as if pledging their alliegance. I belive, therefore, that this stone is a sign from the Aether that I should become the King of All Animals, and rule in the absence of Dragonus. It is my divine right to do so."

"Divine right?!" snarled Lord Stag, also stepping forth. "You have no right to rule anything, you miserable Drake! You are no more than a selfish glutton who only takes and never gives! Who are you, that you should dare to put yourself above the Maker?"

"Fine words for a grey-muzzled eater of grass," growled the Drake. "But I would hardly expect you to understand. You are only a stag and a cowardly mammal, and thus you only know very little. If you were a dragon or snake, it would be simpler to explain to you!"

Then there was a great commotion amongst all the animals, for there had never been a harsh word between them before, and never had any animal become angry with his friend. Many of them were horrified at what the Drake had said, and stood with Lord Stag in saying the stone was dangerous. But many others ran to his defence, saying that he had foreseen the coming of the stone, and that it was about time they had someone to lead them. And it soon occurred that all the animals had begun arguing amongst themselves, and the noise could be heard from the tops of the mountains to the bottom of the sea.

While all this was happening, Dragonus had been sleeping in His mountain. The noise of the stone landing outside had not disturbed Him from His sleep, and He had not heard the voices of the animals outside His door. But while He was sleeping, He seemed to fall into a deep dream, for He heard in His head a strange noise, like someone weeping. And when He looked, in this dream of His, He saw something before Him, with two arms and two legs that stood upright, like a human child. It shone as thought it were made of stars, the hair on its head woven from the black of night, and was weeping softly into its hands.

When Dragonus saw this, He felt a great curiosity come over Him, for He had never before seen anything such as what stood in front of Him now. And He called to it and said, "O, little one, why is it that you weep? Are you hurt in some way?"

"Not hurt," said the child, "but lost. For I have fallen from my home, and my family have all been taken from me. I do not think I shall ever get back."

"Tell me, O little one," said Dragonus, "what is your name?"

"I have none," said the child. "I was never given one, because my family did not believe in names."

Then Dragonus said, "In that case, I shall call you Gein-Kiir, for in my tongue that means the One. For there was only one of you to come into this world I have made, and you are safe now, for none will hurt you here." And the One, as he was called from then on, looked up at Dragonus and smiled, and his eyes were every color of the rainbow.

Then the noise of the terrible argument came through the mountain, and Dragonus stirred in His sleep. And outside He could hear the noise all the animals were making, from the roar of the Drake to the bellow of Lord Stag to the squeal and shriek and snarl of all the other animals. And He became very afraid, for He knew exactly what it meant.

When the One heard all the noise, he became quite curious and said, "Great Dragon, what is that commotion I hear?"

And Dragonus said, "That, O Gein-Kiir, is all the creatures of the world, that I made from the First Things I found there. And I fear that, in my old age and negligence, I have forgotten to tell them how they should govern themselves, and they now run lawless and chaotic. The noise you hear is some argument over I know not what, and without anything to stop them they may make war with each other."

Then the One smiled and said, "Do not worry, my friend. I shall come out and see them, and perhaps solve their problem for them. This is a good world that you have made, rich and safe, and it would be a terrible shame to see it destroyed by ignorance and anger. If they are without guidance, as you say, then I shall give them guidance, so that they might not undo the good work you have done."

"Go forth, Gein-Kiir," said Dragonus to the One. "Go forth and do what you must."
 
And so it happened that, as the animals argued amongst each other, the stone they stood in front of began to crack down the middle, like a gigantic egg about to hatch. The crack grew larger and larger, with a great light shining through it, until with an awful noise the stone itself burst open, and pieces of it flew in all directions. And one piece flew at the Drake and buried itself in his head, and he fell with such a terrible scream that everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look.

And there, in front of them all, was the One in all his splendor, looking exactly as he did in the dream of Dragonus. And as the animals looked, they saw his strange appearance and his wondrous light, and did not know wherever to be afraid or joyous. And it is said that, there in the clearing, all the animals dropped to their knees and bowed down to the One, something that they never did even to Dragonus. Even the trees and plants seemed to bow down in supplication, for they felt humbled and awed by his presence.

Then the One spoke to them, saying, "My friends, what is the matter? Why do you quarrel so, and over what?" And for a time nobody knew what to say, because they were afraid to speak to him.

But then Lord Stag spoke up, saying, "My Lord, please forgive our transgression. For we saw you fall from the sky, and we did not know if you had come to do good or bad, and we came to see what you were. And then we fell to quarreling, because we could not decide on what was to be done with the stone you came in."

"Do not be so humble," said the One, smiling. "For I am only your friend, and not your master! But it would seem to me that a master is what you need, for you could not come to an agreement on anything in all the time you quarreled."

"That is correct," grunted Old Bruin. "We have no-one to lead us and no laws to follow. We are as directionless as the winds and tides, and what has come of that but the bitter words and bad feelings here? We tire of this lawlessness, and would want someone or something to guide us, so that our lives might be better off."

And then the One said to all the animals, "So be it. Since you desire a leader, I shall give you one. But first, I must set down the laws you must live by, so that you might not be lawless any longer."

And so saying, the One put his hand on the body of the Drake and eased the pain in his head, so that in the end he died quite peacefully. And from the blood of the Drake, it is told, there rose a pale, thin figure, with no eyes and no mouth, and carrying a great sword. He was cloaked in the darkness of the Nether, the place where spirits go when their mortal bodies die, and the ground beneath him turned grey and hard like iron. And all the animals were very frightened of him indeed, and many felt like running away at the sight.

"This," said the One, "is Death. I see that you fear him, and rightly so, for he is a terrible thing. Should you seek to harm this beautiful world in any way, out of spite or malicious intent, he shall seek you out and cut you down for your crime. But he is also to be your helper, for when your bodies grow old and tired, then he shall take your spirits to the Nether, and you shall be born anew into the world."

And Death, without a word, took up his sword and cut the spirit of the Drake from his body. And as Death took the Drake into the Nether, the One said to the animals, "Now, watch closely, and I shall set the laws which you are all to live by."

And so, the One began his work.

Firstly, the One took a cloak made of the Northern winds and put it on, and changed shape into an old man, with a stick to support himself. And dressed so, he went up to the birds, the foxes and the badgers, and many other animals like them, and he sat them down to teach them things. He told the bees how to make hives to live in, the fox and the badger how to dig their burrows in the winter, and the birds how to make their nests. He taught this and many more to the animals, with the promise that they would remember it always, and for this he was called the Wise.

Secondly, the One took a cap made of the Western dew and put it on, and changed shape into a young saytr, with a bounding step and a twinkling smile. And dressed so, he went up to the deer, the dogs and the rabbits, and many other animals like them, and he challenged them all to a race. So they raced many hundreds of times around the forest, and as they ran the legs of the animals grew long and powerful like his, so they ran almost as fast as him. But they never could catch up with him, for he played many a merry trick on them, and for this he was called the Swift.

Thirdly, the One took a glove made of the Eastern fires and put it on, and changed shape into a terrible thing, with six arms and burning eyes. And dressed so, he went up to the wolves and the bears and many other animals like them, and divided the body of the Drake amongst them, saying "Go on - eat as much as you can!" And the animals ate the meat he gave them, and suddenly were filled with power and strength, and the fierce desire to hunt and kill for more meat. And he roared so fiercely along with them that many were terrified, and for this he was called the Wrathful.

Fourthly, the One took a garter made of the South Sea foam and put it on, and changed shape into a fair maiden with flowing hair and beautiful eyes. And dressed so, she went up to the insects and the birds and many other animals like them, and sang a wonderful song for them. And in the song, she spoke of young lambs learning to walk, of fledgelings in the nest and of the joy of raising children. And many animals, like the whale and the cricket, remembered her song, and they still play it to themselves to this day, and for this she was called the Maiden.

Finally, the One closed his eyes and changed shape once more, only this time he became like a newborn babe asleep in its mothers arms. And in this shape, he fell into a deep dream, where he wrote all the new laws of the world in his head and passed them on to the heads of the other animals. He taught that the wolf and deer would be enemies always, that the eagle should build nests in the mountains, and that the fish would swim up the rivers to spawn. And because all these laws came from his head, he was called the Dreamer.

And when that was all done, the One spoke to all the animals, saying: "My friends, you now know all the laws that you must follow, and woe betide any of you if you break them for any reason! Now, as I have promised, I will give you a leader, that you may have someone who can rule over you and govern you fairly, according to the laws I have given you."

Having said this, he reached down into the earth and took from it some of the hard stone of many colors that grows there, and began to make a shape from it, molding and sculpting it with his hands. He gave it arms so that it could hold tools, and feet so that it could walk upright, and a mind very much like his own. In this way, it had the knowledge of the Wise, the joy of the Swift, the power of the Wrathful, the kindness of the Maiden and the imagination of the Dreamer. And as all the animals watched, they saw that the shape he was making was very much like himself, only it did not glow or shine as he did. 

And when he was done, the One put his mouth against the new being's mouth, and he blew life into it so that it would become a living thing. And as the new being woke up and stretched, blinking in the sunlight, the One said to it:

"Your name is Man. Go and rule, with a firm yet just hand."

And so the Man approached the animals, and they followed him out of the woods and away from the mountain. From within the mountain, Dragonus saw what had occurred, and He was very much pleased, for now there was order in the world and everyone could live peacefully. And He said to the One, "For the deeds you have done, and for the gifts you have brought, you are most welcome here, Gein-Kiir! Wander the world at your pleasure, for it is wide and full of things for you to see and do!"

And over time Man would multiply, and build cities from the wood of the forests and the stone of the mountains, and he ruled over all the animals according to the laws the One had written. Then it came to pass that some animals, like the dog and the cat and the horse, came to live with Man and work for him, and were rewarded well for their service. And whenever anyone, human or animal, had a problem or quarrel, they looked for the One, for even as he wandered the world to see all it had to offer, he was never too far away to lend his help to anyone.

And so it was for thousands of years.

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Notes on the text:

• Debate rages as to what exactly the so-called origins of the One were, if it was a real being. Those of the scientific bent claim he was an alien life-form who had crash-landed on Porphyrion, and the dialogue between him and Dragonus hints he may be a survivor of some great war between beings from other planets. Particularly pious men cast doubt on this theory, as it questions the sanctity of their primary deity - some sects of the One Faith outright shun the idea.
• The characters of Old Bruin, Lord Stag and the Council of the Owls reappear in the Tales of the One, as friends or enemies of the One in his adventures. It is unclear wherever these are the same characters or their descendants.
• In some versions of the tale, the Drake is replaced by a unicorn, as there are no unicorns left on Dragonus yet plenty of Domestic Drakes. Others use a lion, oxen or an equally fierce animal.
• "Gein-Kiir" is the first known instance of the Dovah language, spoken only by dragons. It is the name given to the One by Dragonus, and literally means "One Child" - apt, considering the One's childlike form. Although there is no prohibition or taboo in using the Gein-Kiir name, it is usually replaced by the One in most holy texts, in the same way Judaism substitutes the LORD in place of Yaweh or Jehovah. In this adaptation of the text, only Dragonus refers to the one with the Gein-Kiir name, using it as a term of affection.
• It is here that we are introduced to the Five Aspects of the One, the central belief of the One Faith. It is similar to the Holy Trinity of Catholicism in that each different being is an aspect of the One, a shape taken by him to represent different things. Each one bears a symbolic article of clothing that represents something about that aspect. The base form of the One itself is acknowledged as the creator of Mankind, but otherwise not referred to much.
• The Wise represents Ice, Knowledge and Patience. He is spoken of as a teacher, especially in fables and parables. His symbol is a cloak and staff.
• The Swift represents Wind, Youth and Mischief. He features in many of the Tales of the One as a trickster, similar to Br'er Rabbit or Anansi. His symbol is a cap.
• The Wrathful represents Fire, Anger and War. He features as a destroyer of evil who bravely battles his enemies, yet invokes fear in even his friends. His symbol is a glove.
• The Maiden represents Water, Love and Fertility. Images of her are placed in hospital maternity wards as a comfort to mothers. Her symbol is a garter.
• The Dreamer represents Imagination and Free Will, and is worshiped as the source of all ancient writing. His symbol is a quill pen, for he "wrote" the laws of the world, albeit in his head.
• The act of the One breathing life into the man has recently been the subject of a short-lived debate as to the origin of love. Some scholars claimed that the lip-to-lip contact between them, primarily associated with the One's unconditional love for his creation, was then passed down through the ages as kissing, symbolizing romantic love. Other scholars posited another theory: What a load of bunk. The first lot of scholars fell silent in short order. It just goes to show - people can and will read too much into things.

Book of the One 1/3 - How Dragonus Made The World

This tale, detailing the creation myth of Dragonus, was taken from the Gold Anniversary publishing of “Old Father Bindlestein’s Fairy Tales and Fables”, adapted from the Book of the One. Many different translations from the original Dragonian text exist, some omitting or adding details, but the one featured in the aforementioned biblical text is the version most frequently recited at gatherings of the One Faith. Those wishing to indulge curiosity about other religions and myths, such as those preached by the Church of Claudandus, may be directed to "Mythes and Legendes for the Curious Mind" by Gloria Varrus, found in all good bookshops.

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Long ago, in the very beginning, there was nothing. There was no sun or moon, no stars in the sky. There were no hills or valleys, no deserts or forests or oceans. There were no plants or trees, no insects or beasts or birds. In the very beginning, the sky was grey and lifeless, and the land was flat and barren. And instead of animals, horrid shapeless things lived on the land, sucking the moisture from the air and slithering blindly over each other. These were the First Things, born from the barren Earth itself, and they were so numerous they covered the whole world.

Then it came to pass that, who knows after how long, the sky itself opened up, and there came a great Being, unlike any that had come before. He was like a mighty Dragon in shape, yet so much bigger, for His wings scraped the sky as He flew, and His shadow blotted out the world. He was Dragonus, the Maker, for He had been born in the fire and wind of the Aether, that great void where all spirits are born from. And His eyes shone like great torches and illuminated the early world.

When the First Things saw Dragonus, coming down from the clouds, they cowered in fear. For they could see how majestic and powerful He was, and were ashamed to be in His presence, ugly and formless as they were. And when He first landed upon the world they screamed in terror, for they thought He had come to rip them to shreds and devour them. And they began to crawl away in fright, wishing to escape him, and many of them burrowed under the earth to the Caverns of Solitude, where they spent their days wallowing in shame and self-pity. These Things would eventually come back to the world as the Uruk-Hai, and wreak the worst destruction of all, but that is a story for another time.

When Dragonus saw the First Things, He was filled with pity for them, for they were so miserable and wretched. And He called to them with His great voice, like a gong of brass, saying, "O small and frightful things, why do you flee from me? I do not wish to harm you, for I feed only on light and heat, and have no desire to kill such small and helpless things!"

And those First Things that had stayed behind heard His voice, and stopped trying to escape, for they now knew He would not hurt them. But still they feared Him for He was so big and powerful, and spoke to him saying:

"O mighty beast, we do not flee from you because we fear you will harm us. We flee from you because you are so mighty, and we are ugly and misshapen things. We do not deserve to be in your presence, for we are ashamed of ourselves and the world we live in, even though it is all we have to call our own."

"Nonsense!" said Dragonus as He looked upon the flat and barren world in front of Him. "It is not right that you should be so miserable, and all this world should be so flat and lifeless, when the universe is so full of wonderful things! It is in my mind that I should take this world and make something out of it, so that it might be like a jewel in the cosmos."

"What can you do to change this world, O Great Dragon?" asked the First Things. And they were filled with wonder, for they had never heard of anything that could do such things.

"Watch and see, O First Things!" cried Dragonus. "Behold what power I have, and how I can change you and this world for the better! I shall give you new forms, so that you need not be ashamed of yourselves, and give you a new world carved from the old, so that you will be happy always."

And so Dragonus spread His wings, so that they touched the sky, and lifted into the air to begin His work.

First, He beat His great wings and blew a wind upon the grey mist above, so that it all parted to reveal the sky above. And in that wind were the clouds formed from the mist, all packed together so that they would not cover everything as they once did. And that is how His Wings made the sky.

Second, He took a deep breath and spat a great Fire into the sky, so that it lit up all the world. And when it reached the highest it could go, it became a great shining ball that began to crawl lazily across the sky, so that sometimes the world was in light and warmth, and at other times in darkness and cold. And that is how His Fire made the sun, the night and the day.

Third, He took from His body Scales of shining silver, the like of which is not found in the world today. And He threw them up into the Sky, so that they stuck to it and glimmered, and a scale from His great belly grew shining white and began to crawl across the sky. And that is how His Scales made the moon and the stars.

Fourth, He unfurled His mighty Tail and began to beat it upon the earth below him, with great strength. And wherever it struck it pushed the earth downwards or upwards, forming mountainous peaks or great valleys. And sometimes it swept the land, forming flat plains or deserts instead. And that is how His Tail made the earth.

Fifth, He blinked His great eyes, and let his Tears fall from them. And wherever these Tears landed, clear water gushed up from beneath the earth and formed mighty pools. Some flowed down from the mountains and formed rivers to feed these pools, and little by little the pools grew bigger and bigger, until they formed lakes and oceans. And that is how His Tears formed the water.

Finally, he blew a gentle Breath along the new world below him. And wherever His Breath touched the earth, the first grasses and trees sprouted and grew, and the first flowers bloomed. And when His Breath touched the First Things, they began to change shape and take on marvellous new forms. Some grew wings and became birds, flapping their way into the sky. Some grew small and became the first insects. Some grew legs and became the first beasts of the land. And others grew fins and became the first fish. And that is how His Breath formed the plants and animals.

Then Dragonus, the Maker, said to the animals and birds, "Look, I have made this world for you to live in, so that you will no longer be miserable. Rejoice, First Things, and play in this gift I have given you!"

And the animals and birds and fish and insects all gave thanks to Dragonus, and went away to play on the land and in the sky and in the sea. And in those days all the animals lived for a very long time, and were all good friends with each other and ate. The wolf was friends with the deer, the salmon was friends with the bear and the weasel was friends with the basilisk. It would be a long time before many of these friendships would be brought to an end, and the One would write the new laws of the world, but that is a story for another time.

And so Dragonus yawned and flew away, for He was very tired, and found a cave many leagues deep in the side of a mountain. And He crawled into it and went to sleep, the first of his many Great Sleeps to come.

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Some notes on the text:

• "First Things" is not the accurate translation from the Dragonian - the proper word would be "First Ones." It is assumed the change was made to differentiate the First Things from the One, the central deity of the One Faith alongside Dragonus.
• "Aether" is just one of the possible translations from the original text - the word can also mean void, or nothing, and is also the Dragonian term for outer space. Aether is often spelt as "Ether" in some translations.
• Whilst the Caverns of Solitude exist as a real place, many take it to be a euphamism for Hell. This is debatable, as the One Faith usually avoids depictions or mentions of Hell or satanic figures.
• Some scholars argue that it was the Claws, and not the Tail, that shaped the world. This is due to confusion over wherever the original word translates into one or the other.
• Some translations, especially in Drow culture, omit the scale of the belly being made into the moon. To the Drow, the belly of a dragon is an unclean place, and it is the one portion of it they will not eat. Associating it with the moon, their primary god-figure, would not be a wise move!
• Unlike the Behemoth and Leviathan of Christianity, the Basilisk is an actual creature on Porphyrion. It is noted for its virulent poison despite its diminutive size.

Dirkmas 2 Epilogue: Presents

"Hey, bro."

"Yes, Dirk?"

"CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAAAS!"

"Pfffft, I know, I know. Come on, let's go open our presents already~!"

"Race you to open them all first!"

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"Hey, Pit! I hope everything's going fine!

"You gave me that ring, so I thought I'd get you something in return... I made it with the help of a couple friends, and I hope you like it...

"And I can't wait to see you again! I promise I'll be there on the spaceship the very day you come back! I love you, Merry Christmas, and say hi to Dirk for me!"

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"D'aaaaaw, that's brilliant~!"

"It really is. And look, she got me a third-eye pendant! Just like the one she wears!"

"Aw, that's awesome! Wear it when you go out on dinner dates with her!"

"Sure will! Oh, Dirk, just remembered - you never told me what you were getting Josephine!"

"...Weeeeell..."

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"Yo, Josephine,

"I know you;re fond of ridiculously huge or OP guns, so I got you this:

"It's called the Electrodriver. It shoots shurikens and lightning. That is literally all you need to know.

"Have an awesome Christmas, and love you loads!

"Dirky xxx"

-------

"..."

"shut up"

"Pffffft, that's our Dirky!"

"SHUT UP"

"Bahahahahahah~!"

Dirkmas 2 Part 2

Last time on Dirkmas...

"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...

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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.

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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!~



Dirkmas 2 Part 1

Universe ZF-001

Sol System, Milky Way Galaxy

Earth Date 2013, December 24th 23:30

 

 

 The navigator was very nervous indeed.

This was something of a problem, for two reasons. Firstly, he was supposed to be guiding the spaceship on it's present course, and in this profession being nervous was likely to result in catastrophe. Secondly, he was a Vulturite, a native of Nibiru and species famed for brutality, depravity and various other unpleasant traits. They weren't supposed to be nervous, or even afraid of anything that the universe could throw at them - not even such wonderful threats as the Daleks or the Martians would make them bat an eyelid. Anything a race could do, a Vulturite would do better and then brag about it to his next door neighbour.

And yet this one was trembling in his seat, bile in his throat as his eyes darted back and forth across the screen, trying to focus on the information readouts and so on. His fingers twitched as he tapped away at on-screen buttons and dials, and a fine layer of sweat stood out on his feathered forehead. A sense of ominous dread was sitting in his chest like a block of ice, one that kep growing with every passing minute - most likely to do with the nature of the mission that he was undertaking, as well as the current destination he was guiding the ship towards. Whilst he was not a person to speak his mind, a quality that was probably instrumental in getting the job in the first place, he was more than ready to admit by now that he was ready to soil himself, had he not already done so twice.

For what seemed like the thousandth time that trip, he glanced over his wiry shoulder to observe the arrangement behind him. Most of the ship's command bridge was in shadow, as it's occupant was quite particular about light levels, so he could barely make out the outline of the throne and the person sitting in it. What little he could see, however, made him shudder - a large, heaped mass of something that lay about the footwell of the seat, catching what little light there was in periodic glints and sparkles and occasionally shifted with a dry rustling noise. Swallowing audibly, the Vulturite turned back to the screen, trying hard to look as though he hadn't lost track of his work and was just minding his own business.
 

Unfortunately, he tried too hard.
 

"What a beatifiul planet," came a silken purr, and the navigator's down feathers stood on end. "So much more colourful than home."
 

Too late did the Vulturite hear the scraping of scale on metal, and then something cold, dry and strong looped twice around his body and yanked him from his seat too fast for him to even cry out. Flailing madly for a moment in his panic, the navigator found himself drawn into the shadows towards the throne, then swung around to face the great window that made up an entire wall of the room and yawned outwards into space. His thin, dry eyes blinked once as he took in the view presented before him - a great orb of blue and green, frosted with swirls of white clouds and slowly growing larger within the window frame, filling the room with a dull glow.
 

Then he tensed as a claw, thin as a razor, drew itself along the side of his face. There was breath in his ear, and he winced at the icy chill of it.
 

"Tell me, navigator," came the voice. "What do they call this planet? Ee-Yarth?" The syllables of the last word came thickly, as if they were too big for the mouth forming them, but that tiny detail did noting to reassure the navigator, who was now aware that everyone else in the room was watching him. Most likely they were as frightened as he was. Some colleagues.
 

The Vulturite gulped. "I... I believe it's pronounced 'Earth', your grace," he croaked, well aware of how dry the inside of his beak was.
 

A frustrated huff blew bast his ear. "Really? But it has an 'A' in it. Oh, well," hissed the speaker, shifting in her seat a little, "I shall just keep on calling it Ee-Yarth anyway. Shan't I?"
 

"Y-y-yes, your grace." The navigator realised he was nodding furiously out of reflex, and managed to stop himself.
 

"And how much longer until we breach the atmosphere?" The claw had stopped at his neck. Not good...
 

"In ab-b-bout eleven Rels, your grace."
 

"Perfect."
 

And then there was a twist and a jerk, and the world span crazily for a brief moment before the unfortunate hand-for-hire impacted beak-first with his own console screen, squawking in pain as his body crumpled and slumped to the ground. Through vision blurred by his latest concussion, he espied a blue glint sliding back into the shadows, and reflexively scrabbled out of the prone position, head swimming with terror and possible brain damage as he returned to his station. Hunching over his screen, he heard a giggle from the corner of his ear, and grimaced.
 

"My dear," came the voice, low and dangerous. "Your unfortunate death shall soon be avenged. This Ee-yarth is soon about to have a new name..."
 

A scrape of claws on metal. A glint of fangs.
 

"Open buffet."

-------

Cue intro theme.
 

 

--------

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even-

"Fucking hell..."

...alright, with one exception. Dirk Angelos couldn't sleep.

And who could blame him? It was Christmas. Christmas! One of the greatest times of year in the history of anything! It had everything anyone could ever ask for - presents, food, presents, chocolate, presents and getting together with everyone you care about. Also, presents. Can't ever go wrong with any holiday that results in free presents, usually! Plus, it was yet another in one of the dark angel's long list of excuses to get drunk, and that was never a bad thing.

So yeah, Christmas. Which was why, at half-past eleven at night on Christmas Eve, Dirk Angelos was sitting in the shark tank of the Party Pavillion, a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand in the hopes of working up enough tiredness to get to sleep. He'd already had a can of cheap cider as a nightcap before going to bed, but it clearly hadn't worked out very well, because he was still awake when the clock rolled around to eleven at night. So with a sigh, and moving carefully to avoid disturbing his brother, he'd pottered down to solve the problem in the only way he knew how. With lots of alcohol.

Sipping from the bottle, the Dark Angel watched the sharks lazily swim in a half-awake stupor above him. The tank had suffered some losses over time - one or two sharks had passed away of old age, whilst others ended up being caught in the jaws of their larger comrades. But thanks to Pit being a billionaire and Dirk himself slowly becoming... well, a thousandare at least, buying replacements hadn't been a problem, and the tank had managed to remain stocked at a decent level. The most persistant relative had been the goblin shark, who's reputation for dunce behaviour lingered even now as he tried to swim through the glass in his sleep.

Sharks were far from Dirk's mind at the moment, however, as he glanced over his shoulder into the darkness of the living room. Beneath the shady branches of the Christmas tree glinted piles of wrapped packages, their cartoony santas and reindeers taunting the young author with the mystery of what cold possibly be lying beneath them. It brought a smile to his face to know that at least some, if not all, of the bargoers had been kind enough to send a package over, and that he had returned the favour by obtaining equally-lavish presents for them all.

Especially for Josephine.

He couldn't wait for Josephine to see what her present was.

A grin now plastered on his face, he turned back to the shark tank, lifted the Jack to his mouth and was promptly smacked in the back of a head with a nightstick.

-------

The Vulturite agent watched as his target slumped soundlessly to the floor, the beverage in his hand spilling onto the carpet. The resultant stains in the carpet would be more than proof of what had occured, of course, but by the time anything could be done it would be too late. The Lady's orders would be carried out to the letter. The celebrations would go as planned.

Kneeling down, the masked bird creature hooked both arms under the unconcious angel's body and heaved him up off the floor, slinging him over one shoulder. Barely registering the weight of his captive, he reached into one of his pockets with a free hand and produced a disc-like device from it, just large enough to fit within his claw-like hand and consisting mostly of a large button. Lifting the device to his beak, the Vulturite clicked the button down, a green light flashing as he did so, and waited patiently for a few seconds.

It isn't long before a static-laden confirmation comes from the speaker on the back of the communicator.

"This is Command Bridge to Scout Seven. Please report."

"Scout Seven to Command Bridge," hissed the Vulturite, keeping his voice as low as possible in order to avoid awakening anyone else in the house. "The target has been captured, as ordered, and I am awaiting transport back to the mothership."

"Confirmed," came the reply. "Preparing Transmat to recieve you and your captive. Stand by for transportation in five Nanorels."

"Confirmed."

Job done, Scout Seven pocketed the communicator and patiently wated for a few seconds. And he doesn't wait long - soon, the Vulturite was engulfed by a kind of yellowish light that seems to radiate from around him and fill the room with it's glow.

And when it dissapates, he is gone.

So is Dirk.

Only the sharks have witnessed this. And, being sharks, they have no idea what to do about it.

-------

Commander Varn wished, for the umpteenth time, that he didn't have to enter the throne room.

Really, nobody did. That was kind of why the rota was in place - so people could take turns to stammer out the latest news to Her Grace. But it didn't really work out, at least not in Varn's opinion, mostly because everyone was frightened of the Lady anyway. And small wonder - the poor navigator was still in the medical bay having his neck seen to for a bad case of wiplash. Just because Vulturites would work for anyone if the pay was good enough, didn't mean they have to enjoy it, and nobody on this ship really enjoyed working for a fickle, capricious female who would casually kill someone just for ruffling her dress.

 

But then again, they didn't really have that much of a choice. There was news to be told, and the punishment for keeping secrets... well, let's just say the last crew member who kept vital information hushed up had to be shampooed out of the carpet. And it cost a fortune.

 

Besides, he was already walking in. No point in complaining now.

 

"Your Grace?"

 

Varn braced himself, but the chair didn't swivel round - she was obviously more interested in her view of the planet below. He didn't know wherever to roll his eyes in exapseration or be extremely thankful for it.

 

"Well?" came a strident retort, cutting through the air like a knife. The Commander winced, but tried to keep his composure, standing tall and straight as an officer of his rank should. .

 

"The last of the marked targets has been captured," he croaked out. "Scout Seven is returning with him even as we speak."

 

"Excellent." Somewhere, in the darkness, a tail twitched. "Everything is coming together, all is on schedule and revenge is about to be served. Quite, literally, I might add," finished the figure with a dark chuckle. "Oh, but if only I could decide on what garnish..."

 

This remark was not conductive to Varn's constitution at all. In fact, despite the facade of professionalism he was keeping up, beads of sweat were starting to form on his feathered temple, tricking down the side of his face and neck and into the collar of his shirt. He suppressed the species instinct to wet himself - washing it out of expensive hypersilk like this was pure murder even when he didn't have to pay ridiculous prizes to use the communal washing machines.

 

He cleared his throat and continued as best he could. "Your Grace, Scout Seven is enquiring as to what to do with the prisoner. I understand he is of particular interest to you, among all the-"

 

"You have no idea, Commander Varn." The speaker's voice was dangerously low, tinged with a sort of delicate, knife-like hissing. The Vulturite's ears shrank down as the scrape of claw on steel came once more, like nails on a chalkboard.

 

"So... what is to be done? Is he to be put in a cell with the- AWK!"

 

A strong coil had fastened itself around the commander's neck before he could finish, and the next minute he'd been dragged towards the throne as it swiveled around like a ballet dancer that had been stung in the bottom. Eyes like burning coals glared at him with a maniacal hatred, the sort that comes from letting petty grievance stew for far too long. Fangs like polished marble glinted viciously. A forked tongue lashed the air.

 

"You blithering birdbrain. Bring him straight to me, I said, and he will be brought to me! I want to get a good look at the man who slaughtered my husband before I deal with him, so I can see the fear on his face! And I will not miss that opportunity because you let a direct order slip through that feather duster you call a head! Now bring him to me! Is that clear?!"

 

Varn's voice was a squeak of terror and asphyxiation. "Yes, your Grace."

 

And then the work span, and he was on his back at the door, eyes rolling in his head as he fought to get his breath back.

 

"Now, get out of my sight," snarled her Grace, and the poor Vulturite was quick to oblige.

 

Once past the door, he was most relieved by the person who came around the corner. Quickly fixing his uniform so as to avoid awkward questions, he did his best to put his Lady's grace out of his mind for now. She'd be appeased, soon enough - and a lot, if the new arrival was any indication.

 

"Ah, Scout Seven. Just who I was looking for!"

 

-------

 

At first, as Dirk came to, he thought he was in bed.

This was not a wholly incorrect assumption to make. After all, he had apparently transitioned from drinking Jack at the shark tank to a vertical position, wrapped up in something warm and soft. So it was natural of him to assume that he'd simply fallen unconcious from all the alcohol and that Pit had simply found him and carried him to bed. Or that maybe he'd crawled back to his comfy covers himself and simply forgot about making the journey there. Easy explanation.

So imagine his surprise when his sheets unfurled and dumped him onto the floor.

"OW! Fucking hell!" he howled as he curled on the ground, now completely wide awake, hands instinctively curling up around his stomach and chest. He was quite sure that some ribs had been bruised from that particular drop - not only had he fallen quite a distance, but the floor he'd landed on had been surprisingly hard, for something that was supposed to be just plain old polished floorboards. He was probably gonna have to talk to Pit about getting a carpet to-

Wait.

He blinked, now registering the steely chill of the surface against his skin. And now, come to think of it, he was sure he could hear some kind of electronic instrument humming away in the distance - one that didn't sound like an automatic shark feeder built by Wes Weasley. His vision was still blurry, mostly from what little whiskey was still sloshing around up there, but the outlines forming in from of him did not look much like the cosy objects in his room, but instead the clinical grey walls and computer banks of... something else. He certainly didn't remember asking for a supercomputer to put into his-

This wasn't his room.

"Well, well," purred a voice above him. "Handsome figure, aren't you, Dirk?"

At the sound of the hissing voice, like a gas main intent on murder, Dirk made the mistake of looking up.



Art by Carolina-Eade

"It's a shame you're not as tall as I imagined," the thing continued as it slithered down into the command throne, scales flashing. "But we all know the best stories have a little lie in them, don't we?"

Dirk blinked again, trying to figure out why he was on a spaceship being spoken down to by a giant snake-woman. Had he really hit the Christmas Jack that hard?

"Um, no offence," he tried, mouth feeling full of fluff. "But who the fuck are you?"

"You will watch your language in the presence of-!" screeched a voice from the shadows, and Dirk almost jumped out of his skin. But at the same time, he found his hackles rising with an in-bred genetic hatred - the speaker had the grackled, throaty tones of a-

"Oh, hush, Commander Varn," the snake-thing responded, idly scraping it's talons along the arm of the throne. "It is my fault, after all - forgot to introduce myself, in all this excitement." It's eyes gazed down at Dirk with a sort of idle detatchment, as a lion might look upon an ant, and the angel couldn't help but shudder as a chill he couldn't explain ran down his spine. There was just something about this thing that didn't sit well with him at all.

"My name," it continued, with a thin sort of smile, "is Lady Glacia. Princess of the Seventh Continent, Daughter of Nibiru and, as of now, your master."

Nibiru. That was enough to get Dirk interested - no, more than interested, fired up. Ever since the incident last Christmas, where he fought in mortal combat with a rather genocidal Annunaki, the mere mention of the planet's name was enough to put the dark angel on edge. And now here he was, a prisoner of yet another megalomaniacal somebody from that same planet! With a surge of energy born of righteous annoyance he staggered to his feet, clenching his fists, anger etched across his face as he faced down his serpentine enemy.

"If you're looking to start a fight," he snarled, wings twitching, "then bring it, bitch. I took down Fyros, and I'll just as easily-"

To his surprise, the Nibirian laughed. It was oddly musical and chiming, in stark contrast to the thin speech she'd used to address him, and that only served to derail his train of thought and make his down feathers rise in reflexive fear. And in the shadows, all around him, he was quite certain that others were laughing at him as well, in cackling tones that echoes around the room like a flock of birds trapped in a storm drain. Their mere presence unnerved him even further - he swore he could remember what they were...

"Bless you, no!" exlaimed Glacia as she shifted in her throne, her coils sliding along the floor in great folds. "Fighting is the last thing I want! Messy business, hat is - never gets you anywhere!"

"But..." Dirk lowered his arms, confused. "Then why yank me out of my house like that? What's the point?"

"The point," came the retort, low and icy, "is that I have a score to settle with you, Dirk Angelos. A score that began a year ago, on the surface of the tiny yet powerful living planet of Lauplas. A score that, in a few Macrorels' time, I shall settle once and for all, as befitting of my status as a Princess of the Nibirian race. You will pay," Glacia hissed, lips drawn back to expose cruel fangs, "for the callous muder of my husband one year to this day, Low Angel, I swear it!"

Dirk opened his mouth to reply that no, he'd killed Fyros on Lapulas, and he was pretty sure that Annunaki and native Nibirians weren't exactly the same thing. The last time he checked, that had been the case, anyway - it wasn't hard to mistake a flaming dragon for a giant snake-person, unless you were drunk. But he got halfway through formulating that thought when another one shouldered it's way in, like a rhino forcing open it's cage door, and the resulting mental pictures made his brain scream with horror and disgust, the angel nearly falling down from the shock.

"Fyros was your husband?!" he hollered, eyes wide.

"Move to the top of the class," trilled Glacia, a little too enthusiastically.

It was some time before Dirk could splutter out some more words. "But... Since when did Annunaki start mingling with Nibirians?!"

"Oh, about a thousand years ago." The native Nibiran's tone grew wistful as she idly curled her tail into a small spiral. "And besides, it was an arranged marriage - money, power, putting our families in good standing, blah blah blah..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes vacantly staring into the distance.

Dirk was quick to put two and two together. "I take it you didn't actually like him that much."

Glacia huffed through both nostrils. "Oh, of course not! The man was such a frightful bore - always going on about his plans for conquest and subjugation! Almost never at home, fighting some wretched war on the other side of the universe - never even a birthday card! On top of that," and here an almost rebellious smile curved across the Princess' features, "he was, I believe the saying goes, a genocidal prick."

"You got that right!" Dirk couldn't restrain a small laugh at the innapropriate language, feeling slightly more relaxed now that the reptillian princess seemed calmer and more genial. In fact, it seemed to him that, despite holding a very obvious grudge against him, seemed far more reasonable and willing to talk it out than Fyros had been. Perhaps this wasn't going to be so bad - after all, if an Anunnaki's wife was this much more friendly than the Anunnaki himself, they couldn't hate him that much.

He was proved wrong very quickly.

"But he was still my husband!"

Before Dirk could react accordingly, the Nibirian suddenly shot out like a whip, and sharp claws flashed through the air like scimitars. The angel gasped with pain as his face was suddenly struck, staggering backwards from the force of the blow as his stomach lurched sickeningly. As he swiveled on the spot, clutching his stinging cheek, Glacia rose up into the air on the great length of her tail, eyes shimmering with both the dim lighting and a rage that could melt ice caps, before diving down to glare at him from eye level.

"You murdered him," she snarled, practically shouted. "Humiliated him and robbed him of his dignity, and then vaporised him as if he were no more than a common lowlife! By killing him, you have impugned my honour as his wife, insulted my name as much as you insulted his own! And no-one insults a Nibirian, native or Anunnaki, and walks away free! You will suffer for this, angel, and I will personally ensure you are suitably punished!"

Despite the shock of being attacked and the fright caused by his hostess' change of demenaour, Dirk remained defiant. He didn't believe much in honour - to him, it was a dumb concept that let people get away with really dumb shit, or stopped them doing the right thing out of sheer stupidity. So no, Glacia's motivation didn't impress him in the least. And despite the fact she was practically shrieking in his face, not to mention that she'd just sliced him open, he refused to let himself back down for a second.

"So, what are ya gonna do?" he growled, ignoring the feeling of blood tricking down his face. "Line me up in front of a firing squad? Rip me limb from limb? Fry me with some kind of death ray?"

"As fun as those sound," hissed Glacia, scales scraping on the metal floor, "I have something far better in mind. You Ee-Yarth people have a celebration as this time of year, do you not? Well, so do we Nibirians - and I have special preparations to make for them this year. And I brought you aboard especially for them - not that you'll be able to appreciate it in any way, of course."

Dirk blinked, bewildered. "Okay, firstly, it's pronounced Earth. Secondly, the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

A toothy grin spread across the Daughter of Nibiru's face.

"You shall see, very soon."

Then she snapped her claws, and figures emerged from the shadows - tall, gangly things covered in feathers, with cruel, hooked beaks and blank, staring eyes. As one, they assembled in a ring around the low angel, blocking off escapes of any kind as they slowly advanced on him, brandishing truncheons, knobbled clubs and other assorted implements. At the sight of them, Dirk felt anger flare in his mind, and he looked upon each one of the uniform-clad soldiers with disgust and hatred.

"Vulturites," he snarled, teeth and fists clenched. "You hired fucking Vulturites."

"Oh, they are merely hired help," crooned Glacia as she slowly backed awat. "Not that it was diffucult, you understand - show them money and food and you'll have them eating out of your hand." And with a dignified movement that hardly belied her earlier seething rage and possible mental complexes, she resumed her seat in the throne, smirking with palpable triumph.

"Now you can throw him in a holding cell."

-------

"Oof!"

That is the sound of a Dark Angel impacting with the far wall of a large holding cell, for those of you who are interested. As Dirk slumped to the floor, holding his ribs, the Vulturites loomed in the doorway, derisives sneers on their beaks.

"You're not getting out of this one, Angel," hissed one, elicting a cackle from his companion. And then the door swished shut, the magnetic lock sealing with a decided "click", and whatever witty retort Dirk has in his throat died away as his tormentors laughed away down the corridor. And it occured to him that it was going to be another one of those days, where things had gone slightly out of control and there wasn't much he could do to stop it just yet.

"Well," he grumbled as he picked himself up. "What a lot of bollocks."

"You can say that again," said a voice like silver bells.

Dirk froze.

Then he turned around, and laid eyes on a familiar face, decked in a very familiar green outfit with an equally familiar jingle to the bells.

"Merry Elf?" he gasped.

The small, brown-haired figure looked up sheepishly at him. "Not just me, Mister Dirk. I've brought friends as well." And from behind him came two other familiar faces - a somewhat taller figure, solidly built and with enormous hands like cinder blocks, and a petite young girl with chocolate-brown locks and a distressed twinkle to her eye. All three of the elves regarded him with mized expressions of relief and sorrow, and Dirk didn't know wherever to be amazed or horrified at their presence.

There was a long silence.

"Some reunion, huh," rumbled Punchy after a while.

Dirk nodded. "So ol' Ice Queen caught you guys as well, huh? Figures she'd want to get back at you guys as well."

"She's quite mad," muttered Merry, head lowered. "Madder than her monstrous husband was, I fear. Kringle knows what terrible plans she's got in store for us."

"Hey, don't worry, guys!" Dirk knelt down to meet the elves at eye level, smiling as encouragingly as he could. "I saved you guys once, and I can do it again, right? No crazy snake-lady is gonna get the best of us, if I have anything to say about it!"

On hearing this, Punchy gave a little whoop of joy. "That's our Dirk! Fightin' talk, all the way!"

"But remember," trilled Maisy, batting her eyelashes, "you still owe me a kiss!"

It was Dirk's turn to grin sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, about that-"

"This conversation is irrelevant."

Dirk froze.

Then he looked to his left.

Dalek 2002 render by Rob Semenoff

"OH, JESUS CHRIST," he screamed, "IT'S A FUCKING DALEK!" And he promptly back-pedalled to the opposite wall of the cell, pressing himself against it in a vain attempt to merge with it and vanish.

"Cease your hysterical screaming," grated the Dalek as it rumbled towards him, head lights flashing with each syllable. "I am incapable of harm."

"Incapable of-?!" Dirk's terrified rant immediately stopped as a glint of metal caught his eye. Looking reflexively down, the angel noticed that the Dalek's gunstalk was crooked and buckled, the glass focusing lens shattered beyond repair and the main barrel a sorry, crumpled mess. Relief washed over him, although it was a small relief considering he was still locked in a small room with a member of the most genocidal race ever.

"They broke his weapon, Mr. Dirk," Maisy chimed in, simultaneously reassuring yet nervous. "He can't do anything to hurt us."

"Yeah, right," hissed Dirk, wings still crossed low behind his back in fear. "The fuck is he doing here, anyway?!"

"I am a prisoner, like yourself," came the reply. "I was abducted from my station and brought abord this vessel. My subspace-communicator is damaged - I cannot send out a distress signal to my superiors."

"Probably best you didn't." The idea of a whole fleet of Daleks swooping down to raze the entire planet at Christmastime did not settle well in Dirk's mind. And the unblinking stare from the alien's eyestalk aimed right at him wasn't helping him to stay calm, either.

"But why would Glacia capture you?" enquired Merry, tilting his head to the side. "That doesn't make sense - you haven't done anything to offend her, surely?"

"Negative." The Dalek's eyestalk swivled down to observe the tiny elf. "Daleks do not intrude in Nibirian space - the distance between our planets is too great."

"Wait a moment..." Dirk's voice was hesitant as he spoke. "If that's the case, then why would she go out of her way to abduct you?"

The Dalek turned to stare at him, but gave no answers. The elves were staring uo at him too, just as confused, and Dirk realised a rather nasty idea was creeping into his head, bit by bit. He took a deep breath, figuring this would need some explaining - it was just the ghost of an idea at the moment, but the implications were not pretty at all.

"See, Glacia can't just be after us. Me and the Elves, I mean," he added hastily. "If she's caught a Dalek as well, then that could mean she's got other species as well, from different planets, galaxies or maybe even universes. All of them locked up in this dungeon of hers. And she mentioned something about a special celebration, when she was interrogating me - some kind of freakish parallel to Earth's Christmas that she's apparently making big preparations for, and I'm supposed to be a big part in it.

"So, what I want to know is... where do you lot fit in?"

There was a long, tense silence as angel, Dalek and elf tried to figure out the mystery.

 

Fortunately, the tension was broken by an announcement on the tannoy, crackling over the speakers in the corner of the room. As one, the prisoners turned to look at it, wondering what sort of an announcement it would be.

 

Unfortunately, the voice coming over the tannoy was that of Lady Glacia.

 

And, as Dirk listened to what was being said, his face slowly went paler and paler with horror.

 

-------

 

"Good evening, loyal subjects!

"This is your Lady speaking - Lady Glacia of Nibiru, Princess of the Seventh Continent, with an important announcement! As you're aware, the celebration dinner for this year's Independance Festival takes place in about three Macrorels, and attendance is mandatory for all crew and staff - failure to attend is punishable by execution. Unless you're one of the three-hundred current sufferers of the Jovian flu, in which case the cost of your portion is being docked from your pay. I didn't put this together so you could let it go cold, you ingrates.

 

"Anyway, I have some very good news to impart - the menu has now been completed! A copy has all been sent to your personal data pads for your perusal, and you are expected to make your selection of food and send it back to our main computer so we can prepare it for you. Don't want to end up like last year where we couldn't make enough chocolate pudding so some of you ended up with the custard instead! Honestly, how was I supposed to know you'd all froth at the mouth and die? Your fault for not mentioning your allergies on your CV's...

 

"So, this year's looking to be the biggest Independance Feast so far! We've got a wide range of dishes and delicacies from across the galaxy, including:

• Dalek tentacle soup with fresh bread!
• Korath gizzard a la carte!
• Lapulas Elf fricassee with salad garnish and Spiridonian mint sauce!
• Chocolate and diced dryad pudding topped with marzipan and nutmeg!
• Imported Plesioth liver creme brulee!
• And our centerpiece for tonight - Low Angel rump roast with parsnips, roast potatoes and Spicy Angel Wings!

"This has been your Lady and master, saying... Happy Frosttime!"

Click.

-------

"She... she wants to eat us..."

A long, awful silence filled the cell. The Dalek hadn't moved from it's position, but it's eyestalk was staring intently at the speaker. Merry and the other elves, by contrast had taken to hiding behind Dirk's legs, trembling in fear and hugging each other to try and keep each other calm. The Dark Angel himself, meanwhile, could only stand there, wings twitching in horror as he tried to digest this latest bit of news concerning his predicament. Not only was Lady Glacia, the alien who'd taken him onto her ship, extremely angry with him for killing Fyros, her husband by arranged marriage...

...but she wanted to eat him! As pert of her race's annual celebrations, no less!

He was beginning to understand how a turkey feels.

"Guess I was right," muttered Merry from somewhere behind him. "She's even worse than her husband, after all."

"As if being burnt alive wasn't bad enough," sobbed Maisy, ger voice laden with hysterical fear. "But now we're going to be roasted and eaten instead!"

"Well, she's not roasting my rump," burst out Dirk, "and that's for fucking certain! I'm getting out of here before that happens!" At this determined shout, the elves looked up at him, eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and hope.

"But how?" Punchy emerged from his hiding place to look at Dirk properly, eyebrows high with bewilderment. "This place is locked up tighter than a Boxing Day moneybank! And they've probably got guards on patrol as well - what if they catch us?"

Dirk turned to look down at the elf, eyes set with classic Kobber determination and righteous anger. "Don't worry about that," he growled. "Vulturites might be foul, disgusting and a whole lot of other rude names I could use right now, they're also dumb as shit. If there's an excuse to get drunk, they'll drop everything to do so - they're probably getting pissed right now, not even paying attention to us."

Also stepping out from behind Dirk's legs, Merry fixed both of his eyes on the door. "But what about that?" he enquired.

Dirk blinked, realising he'd hit something of a snag. In his enthusiasm to defy yet another Christmas-ruining villain, he'd completely forgotten one of the most basic steps of a prison break - figuring out how to break out in the first place. And it was going to be tricky - the door was completely smooth, with no evidence of handles or locks on it, or even any buttons that would give a clue as to how to open it. It was also probably made of some fancy material that repelled magic, as well, so that was out of the question, and nobody in the cell had any explosives or cutting implements on them as far as he knew. Looking at the souleless, grey lump of metal that stood between him and freedom, the Dark Angel was not omly completely stumped, but also felt a little hopeless.

And then the Dalek, silent until now, swivelled to face the angel. "I have been performing preliminary scans of the ship's structure since my capture," it growled in it's trademark staccato tones. "The technology is Nibirian in origin, but includes facillities borrowed from vessels of other races."

Dirk sighed in irritation. "Very bloody useful, mate. Now tell us something that would help us escape."

"This prison is Dalek design. The doors use magnetic locks manufactured on Skaro."

Magnetic locks. At those words, something clicked in Dirk's head, and a memory popped up like a duck at a shooting range. A few days ago, bored and not in the mood to wrap presents, the dark angel had slumped onto the couch and endeavoured to watch the first thing that came on TV, no matter how rubbish. By sheer coincidence Daleks Invasion Earth 2150 A.D. had been on BBC2, and although the film wasn't bad, he'd still found himself falling asleep during parts of it. But one time, when he was awake, he remembered Peter Cushing opening the doors of a cell by...

Quickly, he turned to Merry and the other elves. "You guys got anything plastic on you?" he asked. "I think I got an idea on how to bust out."

"I don't think so, Mr. Dirk," said Merry, and Punchy also shook his head likewise. But Maisy was already digging through her pockets, and before Dirk could blink she'd produced a large, flat comb from sonewhere on her person. The tiny elf held it out between thumb and forefinger, just high enough so Dirk could take it without bending down.

"I always carry one with me," she explained as the angel took it from her, examining it closely. "Just in case I need to fix up my hair."

But Dirk was already running towards the door, kneeling down as he reached it and examining the bottom of it. From what he remembered, there would be a certain lump in the door that indicated the presence of the magnetic- ah-hah, there it was! Now, all he had to do was force the comb, point-wise, through the- Yes!

With a click and a swoosh, the door opened, and both angels and elves scrambled out of the cell, nearly falling over each other in their haste to get into the corridor that formed the prison bay. As a bunch they all collapsed against the opposite wall and flattened themselves against it, fully expecting alarms to start blaring and patrols of armed guards to come stampeding around the corner with guns loaded and blugeons drawn. But after half a minute or so, waiting with baited breath, the four were shocked to see that absolutely nothing of the sort was happening, and didn't seem likely to happen in the near future. Not a single Vulturite showed up, and there wasn;t even so much as a flashing red light to mark their escape.

There was a long, awkward pause, in which the Dalek  glided slowly out of the cell, seemingly non-plussed by the other's brief moment of panic

"...but why-?" Punchy began to say, but trailed off.

"That's probably how the door works," Merry tried, staring at the cold, square room he was in just a moment ago. "They probably just cut the power to the lock every time they open it, so there's no way to tell if-"

"Are we escaping or not?" cut in Maisy, sharply.

"Actually," muttered Dirk after a while, "I've been thinking - why do we have to just escape? I mean, assuming we manage to sneak past the gaurds and, I dunno, find drop pods back to earth or something. Assuming we succeed in all that. What's gonna stop Glacia from hunting us down when she finds out we've flown the coop and bringing us back in?"

"...So what do we do, Mr. Dirk?" piped up Maisy, after a moment to mull this over.

"Well," replied the angel, "if we're gonna dick a Nibirian over, then we gotta go all the way." Picking himself up from the floor, he turned to the Dalek, who had been amusing itself by counting the rivets in the walls. "Oi, tinpot - please tell me you downloaded a map of the ship during those fancy scans of yours."

"Correct," boomed the Dalek, the volume of it's voice making the evles jump to their feet out of shock. "I was successful in downloading the schematics of the ship via remote hacking."

"Fucking ace." Dirk clapped his hands together, grinning. "Can you display them holographically?"

"I obey."

The travel machine's manipulator arm tilted upwards, the outer edges of the plunger glowing blue with light. There was a brief flash of light and, before the eyes of the other four, a large replica of the ship materialised above the plunger, spinning gently in the way of all holograms. Leaning over, Dirk  beckoned the elves over, who crowded around him with fascination as he began to modify the hologram, pushing and pulling to enlarge it and cutting parts away into cross section with a casual flick of the wrist.

"Guys," chuckled the angel, "we're going to steal Frosttime.

"And this is how we're gonna do it..."

TO BE CONTINUED...