Subject: [FFML] [Robotech][3WAMST] Pushing the Envelope chapter 2
From: "Battl Ohki" <battlohki@hotmail.com>
Date: 7/10/2002, 12:43 PM
To: ffml@anifics.com


once more with feeling
:P

BattlOhki
cabbit of Battlekrome
Miyah Miyah!!

(warning long term exposure to this cabbit
can cause Cabbititis)

webpage at
http://www.angelfire.com/anime3/Battlekrome/


_________________________________________________________________
Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.com


-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: 3WAMST6.txt

3WAMST 2K
-
WWWA Mystery Science Theatre 2000
-


:CAST call::

Battlekrome: Somewhere over the rainbow

Yuri: Hey, look its...

Leona Ozaki: You know I don't think Dorothy meant to do that

Aooga  - Aooga - Aooga

FANFIC ALERT

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...0   Happy New Year!

Pushing the Envelope, Chapter Two[FFML][Fanfic][Robotech]

Battle: Come on over and help me this things heavy
Yuri: Ano....

Back again, with Chapter Two... :)

Leona: Back again with Number 5!!
Battle: Five, five MSTs whoahahahhahaha
Yuri: A record
Battle: ::holds up a vinyl Frisbee::

Very special thanks to Latin_D, who probably has no idea what he's saddled 
himself with in volunteering to
be a prereader for me. Heh heh heh... :)

Battle: Speaking of Latin_D
Yuri: Who's he?
Leona: Battle, you hallucinating again?
Battle: No....

And, without further ado... the fic!

Battle: And the MST

Brian Payne

Yuri: He's cute
Battle: That's the author, Yuri
Leona: He can't be

sofaspud@sofaspud.org

All: ::sit on the sofaspud::

http://www.sofaspud.org

Battle: Want some?
Yuri: What are they?
Battle: Sofaspud fries
Leona: What happened to the New York ones?
Battle: We ate them already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Too Much Caffeine Productions

Battle: Man, gotta stop drinking that Jolt at 2 AM

in association with

Sofaspud's Imagination

Yuri: As opposed to our imagination

presents

PUSHING THE ENVELOPE

Chapter Two

* * *

"You ain't seen nothing yet, asshole," I muttered, and yanked the cargo-door 
release.

Battle: Wonder who he's referring to
Yuri: Perhaps the next paragraph will say it
Battle: Why wait that long?
Leona: Yeah, lets say it's Latin_D
Battle: It even could be Sofaspud himself

One of the positive side effects of removing the Battloid option from 
Wanderer was that it freed up a lot of
space.

Battle: What's a wanderer
Leona: That's a planet, it's ancient Greek
Yuri: What is a planet doing with a Battloid option?
Battle: I dunno

So much, in fact, that we were able to expand the original small cargo hold 
and make me able to carry around
my old motorcycle - in pieces, of course - and still have plenty of room for 
mail.

Battle: large enough for whole groups of Imps to play soccer scrimmages 
while they wait
Yuri: Fresh meat!
Leona: OK who gave her the Doom game? come on own up!

Now, the mail is packed in impact- resistant crates - after all, some folks 
want to send fragile stuff. Go figure.
And, of course, everything is locked down to keep it from sliding around and 
changing Wanderer's center of
gravity in flight.

Battle: Bolt it down!
Yuri: Wonder if they have my twin linked lasblaster in there?
Leona: What is that, Yuri?
Yuri: I don't know really it sounds nice though
Battle: Yep

The nice thing for me was, the locks were remote-triggered - I could cast 
them loose from the cockpit. Hey,
how else could I para-drop mail in contested zones? I felt a grin creep over 
my face as I thumbed the release
for each crate in turn - four in total.

Battle: Look out below
SPLAT!
Battle: Sorry
Yuri: Leona, is gonna be pissed at you after she gets out from under there

The stick bucked in my hand as the mail crates came free and slid, one by 
one, on their tracks out the cargo
door. I really wish I could have seen our pursuer's face - his look must 
have been priceless, when those
white-and-blue crates came tumbling out the back end of Wanderer, as if 
she'd laid some sort of high-tech
eggs.

Battle: The planet is a spaceship?
Yuri: Wonder how long it'd take to cook those for breakfast

At the time, though, I was too busy to think about it.

Leona: Battle, What do you mean by dropping a heavy crate on me??
Battle: It was for comedic value, It's called slapstick
Leona: ::holds up a 2x4::
Battle: Eep! ::runs::
Leona: ::chases::

As I snapped the wings out to full extension and rolled Wanderer so that she 
was standing on her wingtip,

Battle: ::snap, crackle, pop::
Yuri: Kellog's Rice Krispies!
Leona: Wouldn't it be better if he extended them, this way it sounds like a 
hang-glider
Yuri: You know that'd be one funny planet

I tossed a glance over my shoulder.

Battle: Which put a nasty dent in the bulkhead

I saw that we had lost him, for the moment - as close as he'd been, it 
would've taken some pretty fancy flying
to avoid the crates.

Battle: Not really ::ouch::
Leona: Have at thee ::thwap::
Battle: Is this getting old yet?
Yuri: Nope ::eats another popcorn kernel::

I turned back around and shot the throttle home, thumbing the afterburner 
switch at the same time.

Battle: Engaging Mach Speed! ::zooom::
Leona: Get back here!

The turbines Dad had acquired for Wanderer were pretty serious stuff, as 
turbines went; while they were
finicky as hell, they knew when they needed to perform, and were quite 
capable of doing so.

Yuri: I always find my stuff is finicky, the engineer's secret weapon 
usually works though
Battle: What's that?
Yuri: Hitting it
Leona: ::THWACK::
Battle: Ite!

Wanderer's engines boomed and my head snapped back against the headrest as 
we shot forward.

ALL: ::plastered against the fronts of our chairs::
Battle: As opposed to the backs which would mean we were going the other 
way

We were losing altitude quickly, but that was okay - I wanted to get this 
bastard down lower, where I could
take advantage of terrain. The trick with the crates wouldn't keep him off 
my back for long, and would
probably just piss him off even more.

Battle: Leona is a good example

If only he would show up on my sensors...!

Battle: See above

Bright arcs of fire traced afterimages in my eyes as they flew past the 
canopy. I toggled the comm. "C'mon,
can't you do better than that?" I taunted.

Battle: Dang, when she'd find where I hid Bonaparte?
Yuri: Remember last week when she was trying to find those old Dominion 
graphic novels?
Battle: Oh yeah!

Okay, so it was immature.

ALL: WAAAI!

In response, he said, "Don't make it personal, Wallace."

Battle: Nothing personal, Wallace . It's just business
Yuri: What type of business?
Battle: You know I haven't figured that out yet..

"Personal?" I repeated incredulously. "YOU start shooting at ME, and you 
tell me not to make it personal?"
Some days, I really wished Wanderer had a window - that way, I could've 
stuck my hand out and flipped him
off.

Battle: Planet with a window?
Yuri: Yeah, Druidia!
Battle: Good point

"Eject her and I'll be more than glad to leave you alone, boy. You've got 
nothing I want, except your
passenger."

Battle: Which one?
Yuri: The one in the skimpy Bikini?
Leona: Or the one wearing the Tutu?

"Yeah, well, you want my passenger, you have to deal with me. Catch me if 
you can, bucky." I closed the
connection.

Battle: It's Bucky!
Leona: O'Hare!

"Are you sure you want to piss him off?" asked Jennifer. I glanced at her 
face in the monitor.

Battle: Yes, most definitely I do

"No," I replied, shrugging. She gulped, and I grinned at her. "Just hang 
on."

Battle: How do you hang on in seats that roll around?
Yuri: That's what those ensigns are for, impact padding

I rolled us again until we were inverted, then pulled back on the stick 
until we were in a straight-down, full-
power dive. Wanderer began to tremble, then shake violently, as our speed 
increased. My altitude and
height-above-ground displays began to shed digits so fast that they were 
nothing more than blurs.

Yuri: Wow, getting dizzy..

Our pursuit had more guts than sense; he followed us into the dive, although 
he held his fire for the time
being.

Battle: I'll sense that
Yuri: Dang, what destiny did you draw?
Battle: A two
Yuri: Oh well

I was banking on that - shooting at us while we were diving like this would 
only have one likely outcome -
that of us plowing into the ground at an unhealthy rate of speed. That would 
not be my choice of demise, by
a long shot.

Yuri: Wouldn't that be if they shot at them they'd shot themselves down as 
they overtook >the bullets they shot?
Leona: Wow, logic from you?
Yuri: No simple combat experience
Battle: You managed to shoot yourself down did you?
Yuri: ::looks down sheepishly::

Together, we screamed down through the night. When my HUD showed us coming 
under two thousand
feet, I knew I had to do something soon.

ALL: WAAAAOOOHH

I took a deep breath, then several things happened at once.

Battle: ...?
Yuri: What's wrong?
Battle: I can't think of anything to say!
Yuri: Oh just that?

Forcing my muscles to overcome the g-forces we were experiencing, I reached 
up and tugged on the mode
selection lever. Wanderer began to shift and fold around us, servos whining 
in protest as they fought
inertia, air resistance, and vibration...

Battle: Hrmm, that give me an idea, Leona! Where'd you put Bonaparte?
Leona: Oh no, you don't!

... just as our friend knocked at the back door again. Laser fire tore into 
the armor protecting the portside
turbine. On my display, the whole section lit up in red, although the status 
display on the turbine itself
showed no damage, fortunately...

Battle: As opposed to blue which means an Angel's there.

... and the comm system crackled, then came to life with an angry voice 
shouting, "- yourself, dammit! Who
are you?!"

Leona: Blank yourself
Battle: Didn't know that was humanly possible
Yuri: Dr. Tofu could do that
Battle: Yuri, what have I told you about those Dr. Tofu marathons?
Yuri: But... He's soooo cute!

Wanderer completed the shift into Guardian mode, foot jets blazing as they 
tried to halt our headlong
descent.

Battle: Foot jets? I never even knew they had foot jets
Leona: All veritech have foot jets, they just never blaze though

I glanced back as our companion belatedly realized just how close to the 
ground we were, and I could see
the wings of his craft shaking as he tried to pull out of the dive.

Battle: Safety tip #213: NEVER attempt to barrel roll a 747
Yuri: It isn't that bad
Battle: The wings snapped off right?
Yuri: That's besides the point it was going to crash anyway

The comm blared again. "Repeat - identify yourself or you will be fired 
upon! This is your last warning!"

Battle: Roger Wilco
All: ::Start humming theme to Space Quest::
Battle: As opposed to the Radio Shock
Yuri: Don't you mean Hurtz so Good?
Battle: Oh yes, can't forget copyright
Leona: MST3K originally from Best Brains Inc.?
Battle: close enough

"Kinda busy right now," I muttered to myself as I watched the H- above-G 
section

Battle: What is H- above -G?
Yuri: Hank above Guri?
Leona: Heavy above green?

of my HUD with no small amount of fear. We were losing speed quickly, but 
not quickly enough... and
Wanderer's turbines were not nearly as powerful in Guardian mode as they 
were in Fighter mode - not
enough airflow.

Battle: Yes they are!
Leona: You're just doing that to be difficult
Battle: Of course I am

If I pushed them much more, they'd probably give out on me - the stress 
readings were already edging past
the redline.

Battle: Pushing it to the Max!!
Yuri: What does your M:TA char have to with this?
Battle: Yuri, wrong reference....

The shift to Guardian had given us the edge, though. I threw the lever back 
into the Fighter position, then
pulled back on the stick as soon as the transformation was complete.

Battle: Hey, look it's Thexder!
Leona: Wow, a really obscure reference
Battle: As opposed to FireHawk
Yuri: Battle, what's the difference between FireHawk and Crescent Hawk?
Battle: Well, ones a Thexder MKII and the other's a Merc. Corp

Our panicked descent had been slowed enough that I was able to pull us out 
of the dive without tearing off
the wings, although they still creaked and groaned in protest.

Battle: See Yuri, I told you so, now stop trying to barrel roll the theatre

Our H-above-G leveled off at one hundred and fifty feet - far too close for 
my liking.

Battle: How does a meter level off
Yuri: You have to use a level to do that
Battle: ......

As Wanderer stabilized, the other jet shot past us on the port side. It 
didn't look like he was going to make it.
As if in response to my thought, the wings folded and - what the hell?

It was hard to make out details, even with the bright moonlight overhead. 
But there was plenty of light to
see that the jet was changing its wingshape. The trailing edges were 
lengthening, moving outwards; the
leading edges appeared to grow thicker.

Battle: Wow, a YF-22?
Leona: Could be an Alpha.
Battle: Or a Beta
Yuri: As opposed to a VF-1F

I watched in open-mouthed astonishment as the change swept across the 
foreign craft. Within moments, it
had completed its metamorphosis, roughly doubling its lifting surface in the 
blink of an eye.

Battle: ::blink:: Dang, I missed it

It pulled out of the dive so close to the ground that twin tornadoes of dust 
sprouted from the ground just
off the points of its wings. The jet disappeared for a moment in the 
swirling dust clouds, then reappeared. I
heard a muffled boom as it broke the sound barrier, and in moments it had 
vanished on a tight climb into the
clouds.

My comm crackled, then the other pilot's voice sounded out in my cockpit. 
"Nice moves, Wallace. We'll be
seeing each other again."

Battle: As opposed to bad moves
Leona: Or night moves
Yuri: Yeah those are hard to do, I mean can't some people move at a decent 
time of day.

I shook my head. God, I hoped not.

Battle: You rang?

The crackling of the comm startled me out of my reverie. "You have five 
seconds to respond, or we open
fire!"

Yuri: FRIAR in the Hole!!
Battle: Isn't that supposed to be fire?
Yuri: No, look down there Battle: Tuck: I don't suppose you bloody well 
could get me out could you?

I flipped on my mike. "This is Wanderer, registered out of P.O. 131, 
responding to your ID request. Identify
yourself, please."

Battle: Must be hard to fit that thing in a Post office box

"WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON UP THERE?" came the reply. The sound of a brief 
scuffle came over the
line, then a calmer voice spoke. "This is Lieutenant Rollins, 1st Nevada 
Regulars. What's the situation?"

Battle: Nevada?
Leona: Isn't that where Area 51 is?
Battle: Didn't they fake the moon landing there?
Leona: I thought it was the Roswell crashed space ship there
Battle: No that's in NNL
Leona: Oh, yeah.

I chuckled - I couldn't help it. The whole situation seemed too absurd. 
"Lieutenant, my name is Chet
Wallace. I'm a carrier for the Post Office; you've heard of us, yes?"

Battle: Look it's the postman
Yuri: Resists fire, rust and rain
Leona: Thought that was Kevin Costner

"Yes. Go on," came his reply. Annoyingly, the comm window on my HUD still 
showed 'AUDIO ONLY'.

Battle: Even worse, unknown to Chet the guy was mooning him from behind the 
blank screen

"I got jumped by somebody up here. His is the plane that just bugged out." 
Something tickled my memory,
and I tapped a hold pattern into the autopilot before I began rummaging in 
my map case.

Battle: Yuri, have you ever had your memory tickled?
Yuri: Well, there was this one time....
Leona: Wow, Yuri, had a thought
Yuri: Hey!

"The 1st Nevada Regulars?" whispered Jennifer from the back seat. "He's 
lying, Chet."

Battle: If the picture was on, you'd be able to see he was mooning, not 
lying

I glanced at her image. "Hold on for a few, Lieutenant. I've got some issues 
I've got to deal with up here." I
closed the connection. "Explain."

"The 1st was destroyed two weeks ago. No survivors." She bit her lip and 
looked down. "Rollins, too. This
guy can't be Rollins."

Battle: Wiped out to a man?
Leona: Isn't that what happened to Illegal Army?
Battle: Yep and they still were able to rob banks afterward
Yuri: He's not dead yet?

I found what I'd been looking for. "Yeah. The 1st isn't even supposed to be 
operating in this area - they're
based almost a hundred miles away. Were based, I guess." I indicated the 
map, holding it up over my head
so she could see it. "See?"

Battle: When it absolutely has to be there yesterday.
Yuri: By 9am Auzzie to for 5pm PST
Battle: It's rocket FedEx

"How do you know that?!" she asked, rather enthusiastically.

Battle: Why do I suddenly get the impression of a bubbly blonde with a 
larger bra size than IQ?

I grinned at her. "There's advantages to working for the Post Office. We 
hafta know where folks are at,
y'know."

Battle: Postmen, they'll find you anywhere, anyhow, anyway.
Leona: Through sleet, snow and other flying debris

"Oh." She blushed faintly. "Right."

Battle: Not usually while you're in bed though

"Don't worry. We'll treat this guy like we don't know what's going on, and 
sort it out later. I gotta pick up
those crates and get going again." I toggled the comm. "Lieutenant, I'd love 
to stick around and chat, but I'm
on a schedule. Am I safe to land and recover those crates, or are there 
trigger-happy bandits out there?"

Battle: We don't need no stinking bandits!
Leona: Treasure of the Sierra Madre?
Battle: Not sure

No response. I frowned as blips lit up on my displays, indicating various 
land vehicles heading right for the
downed mail crates, whose transponders were merrily blinking, telling the 
world just where they had set
down.

Battle: The problem with rescue beacons is they allow both friend and foe 
to find ya

"I must warn you that those crates are the private property of the Post 
Office, and as such, I'm authorized to
use force in protecting them." The standard litany rolled off my lips 
quickly.

Battle: No, one. I repeat no one messes with a postal worker
Yuri: Yeah even Kei and I don't mess with Postal workers
Leona: Especially in a society who has coined the term 'going postal'

In response, multiple threat alarms began to howl as four - no, five - 
surface-to-air missiles launched and
began to track Wanderer.

Battle: SAM, AAM, ASM
Yuri: Why can't we all just get along?

"Holy shit!" I yelped, pulling back on the stick and punching burners. 
Wanderer stood on her tail and
clawed for the sky, but there was no way we'd make it - the missiles were 
too fast, and had solid locks.

Battle: How does he know they put combo locks on the missiles?

As we hit three thousand feet, I killed the engines and popped all the 
countermeasures I had. We began to
fall.

Battle: So he used all his countermeasures?
Yuri: Why not run head on at the missile and bang it before it arms itself
Battle: That only works with Torpedoes ,Yuri
Yuri: So that's why that didn't work

"Why does everyone want to kill me all of the sudden?"

Battle: What do you want on your Tombstone?
Yuri: Ham and pineapple!

I groused as I frantically worked the controls, bringing us out of the 
unpowered stall that I'd thrown us into.
Two of the missiles had fallen for the countermeasures and detonated, but 
the other three had punched right
through and reacquired us as soon as I re-lit the engines. "What the hell 
did *I* do?"

Battle: Decided that they were trigger happy bandits around and decided to 
piss them off

Jennifer screamed from the backseat as I whipped us through a roll- 
and-dive. One missile cruised by and
kept on going, but the other two weren't so easily confused. "I don't 
goddamn well deserve this, dammit!" I
mumbled as I yanked first one control glove, then the other, on with my 
teeth.

Battle: Yuri, the Theatre canna take any more pressure, the engines canna 
take it
Yuri: ...

The gloves were something Dad had rigged, to let me make partial use of the 
advantages of Guardian mode -
namely, hands. They were rather bulky, and had cables leading from the 
wrists back to sockets set into the
cockpits walls. Inside, each had complex sensors and armatures that all fed 
data to Wanderer's systems,
allowing me to reach and grasp as if Wanderer's arms were extensions of my 
own.

Battle: Remind me never to take a Locust when I need to go pick something 
up with my 'mech

They weren't all that accurate, and flying while using them was difficult, 
but I had practiced until I could do
it. And it looked like now was the time - against these last two missiles, I 
had only one tactic left.

Battle: Grab the missiles??

I pulled back into a loop, then shifted to Guardian at the top of it. 
Letting go of the stick, I hosed the air in
front of Wanderer with everything I had, sweeping the missiles' flight paths 
with the hand-held chaingun
and the nose lasers as the legs swung down and we reversed course, balanced 
on twin pillars of flame.

Battle: Oh, why didn't you try this earlier??

Two fireballs blossomed less than fifty feet away, blasting us backwards and 
finishing the job that what's-
his-face had started on the port turbine. It guttered and flamed out, and 
Wanderer began to fall. Again.

Dammit, this was getting old, quick!

"Che-e-e-e-e-e-t!" screamed Jennifer from the backseat. "Dooo soo- 
o-o-mething!"

Battle: Like what? Scream and run around madly?
Yuri: Get the ship drunk so it dodges better?

"Shut up!" I barked. "I am doing something!"

I shifted us back to Fighter mode and spread the wings fully. Our starboard 
engine was working fine, but
power levels were dancing wildly all over the place and a burnout creep was 
slowly rendering my port
control surfaces dead. It was all I could do to keep Wanderer in the air.

Battle: The space shuttle has all the maneuvering properties of a brick
Yuri: Really?
Battle: If you could get a brick going mach 35 that is

"Look for a flat place, or a road, or something," I commanded. Jennifer 
nodded and began peering out. A few
seconds later, she pointed out the starboard side.

Battle: I hate non-stop flights
Leona: Why's that?
Battle: I want my flight to stop. Preferably at and Airport its those 
unscheduled cornfield and housing
development stops that ruin my day.

"Over there," she said. I glanced over, then nodded.

Yuri: Please return your seat to its upright position
Battle: Who's going to return the guy in the grateful dead shirt to his 
upright position?

"Good call. Hold on tight; this is gonna be rough." I settled my hands on 
the controls, and guided us to the
narrow dirt trail through a mountain pass that Jennifer had pointed out. We 
came in fast. I didn't dare shift to
Guardian again; I had been lucky getting us back into Fighter configuration. 
>From the way things were
failing all over the place, Wanderer would turn herself into mechanical 
origami if I asked her to change now.

Battle: Look, Yuri, a crane
Yuri: How's this space fighter look?
Battle: How'd you do that Yuri?
Yuri: Oh, I know how to make it look like a flat piece of paper.

I dropped the landing gear and braced myself for touchdown. As I flared her 
out, I noticed in sudden horror
that the port-side wheel hadn't fully extended. But there wasn't time to do 
anything about it.

Battle: Sure land with the landing gear down makes perfect sense (snap, 
snap, snap)

We hit the ground hard, and bounced. The nose gear collapsed under the extra 
strain as I stood on the
brakes, and the nose plowed into the dirt, throwing us forward. I heard a 
ripping sound and felt a sudden
sharp pain in my chest. The last thing I saw was the control panel coming up 
to smash me in the face.

Battle: Let me in there is a big explosion about to happen!
Yuri: Uh... Battle you ARE in.
Battle: Well then should we brace for impact?
Leona: No, but installing airbags should be our next priority

* * *

I could never be sure just how long I was out. All I know is, when I came 
to, Jennifer was bending over me
with blood trickling off her chin from a cut high on one cheek and waving a 
foul-smelling capsule under my
nose.

Battle: Everyone uses foul smelling odors to wake someone out.
Leona: Eau de Skunk is quite good for that.
Battle: Eau de Skunk is also good for gas warfare.
Leona: That too.

"Wha-" I began, jerking back. That was a mistake.

Battle: Hangovers and concussions are not something to scream about!

"Ow ow ow oh, shit..." I yelped, as the movement shot lances of fire through 
my chest. I gritted my teeth
against the pain - now that I was aware of it, simple breathing was enough 
to make flares of agony echo
through my body.

Yuri: ::THWAP::
Battle: Ite!!!

I didn't need to see the torn harness to know that I'd broken at least one, 
and probably several, of my ribs,
which was going to make getting anything done a bitch and a half.

Battle: Hi, Yuri.
Yuri: Hey......

I became aware that Jennifer had been saying something to me, and tried to 
focus on her.

"- out of there?"

"What?" I asked, trying to keep my breaths shallow.

"I said, can you get out of there? You're bleeding, and I can't help you 
while you're sitting there, jackass.
Can you move, or do I drag you?"

Battle: do you want to fall unconscious and fall down or fall down and then 
go unconscious?

I stared. I couldn't help it; she had seemed so... well, I dunno, useless. 
But now she was talking like someone
who knew their business. I shook my head. "I, uh... I think I'll need some 
help--" I drew in breath with a
sharp hiss-- "getting up, actually."

Yuri: I've Fallen and I can't GET up!!

She nodded, and held out her hands. I reached up and grabbed them, then 
pulled myself to my feet... and
screamed at the pain.

"Easy, easy, just take it easy," she said, tucking her shoulders under one 
arm and gently urging me up out
of the cockpit. "You've got broken ribs and probably a concussion - I want 
to get you down on the ground
so I can work on you."

Battle: that sentence doesn't sound that good
Yuri: Yeah you never move someone unless their ship is about to explode in 
a huge pyrotechnic explosion
Battle: In other words in every movie you've ever seen Yuri?
Yuri: Yep.

"You make... it sound like I'm ... a piece of machinery ... or something," I 
ground out, leaning on her as I
dragged my feet across Wanderer's hull. I could feel jagged edges of bone 
grating across each other deep in
my chest with every step, and the pain was bringing flashes of light to my 
already-less-than-clear vision.
Was it still night out, or were my eyes playing up that badly?

Battle: Three blind mice, Three blind mice

She laughed; a short, harsh sound. "Not quite. Machines don't bleed this 
much."

Battle: You've never seen a Mark IV.

"Nice bedside manner," I pointed out. Talking seemed like the best way to 
hang on to my consciousness; I
was fading fast.

Battle: Damn it Jim I'm a Doctor not a forklift

"You get what you pay for," she replied, which confused the hell out of me. 
Before I could summon the
willpower to question her about it, a dull, heavy explosion echoed down the 
valley. Both of us stopped and
turned to the apparent source.

Battle: Ni!!
Yuri: Advice it's free and usually not worth what you pay for it.

Two more explosions reached our ears. In response, a bright lance of energy 
reached up into the sky from
beyond the mountain and played briefly among the clouds. A flare of light 
lit the night, and soon after
burning debris showered down, dropping below the ridgeline.

Battle: Oops
Yuri: Was that the shrubbery again?
Battle: Knew we should of sent it FedEx
Leona: To be a truly good project it must be feasible.

There sure seemed to be a lot of activity in the sky tonight, for an 
otherwise normal night in the Nevada
desert. I looked at Jennifer. "That could've been us," I said thoughtfully. 
She glared at me.

Battle: I love the smell of napalm in the morning
Yuri: I use napalm to cook water buffalo.
Battle: How does it taste?
Yuri: Little charred but OK.

"Don't remind me." She tugged on my arm again, pulling me to the edge of the 
wing. With a quick "Stay
here," she jumped off the edge and landed easily on the ground below.

Battle: You stay here and make sure he doesn't leave
Yuri: Right


"I don't think I can make that," I said dubiously, eyeing the drop and 
swaying as I tried to maintain my
balance.

"No, really? What gave you that idea?" She glared up at me, hands on her 
hips. "Just hang on a sec,
stupid." She disappeared under Wanderer, only to reappear a few seconds 
later dragging the cargo bay
door. With a lot of muffled swearing and grunting, she leaned it up against 
the wing and propped her foot
against the bottom to hold it in place.

Battle: I never knew cargo doors could be so useful...

"Okay," she called up. "Slide down here."

I eyed the makeshift ramp, and sighed - then bit my tongue to keep from 
yelping. "Right."

I seated myself gingerly on the top of the door, hissing at the pain it 
brought. When I pushed off, I couldn't
restrain the yelp that burst from my throat.

Leona: Yaaaah!
Battle: Obligatory yell as you slide

I hit the bottom feet first, and managed to stop myself. The sudden jar 
brought fresh agony to my shattered
ribs, and I began to wonder just how many of the bastards were broken.

"ow ow ow ow ow," I observed, as Jennifer tucked herself under my arm again 
and half-led, half-dragged me
under the wing.

Battle: How do you observe 'ow's?
Leona: You have to be in Dictionopolis

"Lie down," she commanded.

I did so.

"Hold still," she said, kneeling next to me with a poised needle.

"Hey, wait-" I started to protest, but it was too late. She jabbed the 
needle into my arm and depressed the
plunger. "Dammit, what was ... ooh... hello..."

Battle: Standard combat medication guaranteed to get you high
Leona: Morphine!

Her eyes remained on mine as the drug took hold, and the look in them was 
frightening. Warmth and a
pleasant numbness spread across my chest. Colors swirled in my vision, then 
the world went black.

Yuri: Ooh the preetty colors

* * *

The fact that I really hate being unconscious was my first thought when I 
awoke.

Battle: His second being where am I going to find a toupee

Waking up - rather, sitting up - wasn't the ordeal that I thought it was 
going to be. My ribs still ached, but it
was a dull throbbing compared to the sharp, jagged spike of agony that it 
had been before. I shivered in the
early morning breeze - the blanket had fallen back when I sat up. My 
jumpsuit had been stripped off, and I
was clad only in my underwear and wide strips of white cloth wrapped around 
my chest.

Yuri: Flashbacks to Fifth Elephant
Battle: Isn't that supposed to be Fifth Element?

Carefully, I took a deep breath. The expected twinge of pain was there, but 
not as bad as I'd feared.

Hmm. Okay, so Jennifer definitely isn't useless. Must remember that, I 
thought.

Battle: That makes quite a few things not to remember

I looked around. The area under Wanderer's extended wing had been turned 
into a makeshift campsite.
Beside me, a small depression in the dirt was filled with barely-glowing 
coals, giving off some heat to
counteract the desert chill. Jennifer was stretched out on the other side of 
the firepit, tossing fitfully in her
sleep. I heard the snap of cloth fluttering in the wind, and realized that 
she'd found the camo tarp that was
kept stored in the cargo bay and had spread it out over Wanderer.

Leona: Now I'm confused is Wanderer the name of the ship or what?
Battle: I think it is
Leona: Then where's the THE?

I was really starting to feel lousy. I'd misjudged this girl badly, if her 
skills in a crisis were any indication.

Battle: Hrmm bimbo is not a good generalization

I gingerly got to my feet. My jumpsuit had been my pillow, apparently. I 
shook it out and put it on,
struggling briefly with the arms - hey, it's not easy to bend your shoulders 
back like that when your ribs
hurt, you know. Then I began to inspect the damage.

Battle: Please put your seat back forward
Leona: I don't bend that way!

There was a lot to inspect.

Miraculously, Wanderer's frame wasn't bent - at least, so far as I could 
tell. But the rest of her - ugh. The
nose cone was smashed - there went half my instrumentation, dammit. Her port 
wing had ripped loose of the
servo-mounts and swung freely in its track. The landing gear, except for the 
starboard side, was FUBAR.
And it looked like both the cargo bay door and the chaingun pod had been 
torn free - more precisely, it
looked like the chaingun pod had ripped free and taken the cargo bay door 
with it.

Battle: You know the random part catalogue is gonna get alot of use after 
this

Not to mention the internal damage to the electronics from the burnout 
creep, or the blown portside turbine,
or ... ah, hell.

I sat down and put my head in my hands.

Yuri: Johnny was a tall man
Battle: He'd forget to duck at doorways
Leona: And often he'd get hurt
All: Johnny came home headless

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?"

Battle: Your arms off
Yuri: No it isn't

I straightened up from my half-crouch over Wanderer's external cockpit 
access panel. While I knew there
was no way in hell to repair the old girl, not with what little we had, I 
still couldn't help but try - she was
everything I'd ever had. I'd found a few oddities, though... ones that I 
needed to talk to Jennifer about.

Battle: Yeah, now he'd better pay attention to the young girl

The question was, was now the time? I wasn't sure.

"Not much," I replied. "The old girl won't be flying again anytime soon."

She frowned up at me, tossing her head and resting her hands on her hips. 
Uh-oh, lecture time. "That's not
what I meant, Chet. You shouldn't be up. You'll just make yourself worse!"

I shrugged. "I'm a bad patient."

Battle: Impatient, he is
Yuri: Talk like Yoda, we must?

"Hmph." She folded her arms and turned away. "So how are we going to get out 
of here?" she said a few
moments later. She glanced my way with an irritated expression on her face.

I shaded my eyes against the midmorning sun and made a show of looking up 
and down the full length of
the pass from my vantage point atop Wanderer. "Well," I said, "we could 
start with walking."

Battle: Walking: commonly used by people without out a means of locomotion

She scowled at me.

"Hey, you got any better ideas?" I asked. "'Cause if so, I'd sure like to 
hear 'em."

"What about your motorcycle?" she wanted to know.

I shook my head. "Two problems with that. First off, it only seats one 
person, plus their supplies. Second..."
I trailed off.

"Second, what?" she prompted.

I gave her a mirthless grin. "Second, it'd show up on every sensor system 
they may have - seismic, infrared,
radar, you name it."

Battle: Looks like they're up the proverbial estuary without a means of 
locomotion

"They?"

It was my turn to scowl. "C'mon, Jennifer, I know you're not as dumb as 
you'd like me to think you are. I
haven't forgotten last night."

"What do you mean?" For a moment, her face showed an intelligent wariness 
that was so totally unlike her
usual expression that I couldn't help but be surprised. Then her normal 
inquisitive-yet-not-too-bright look
was back.

I merely looked at her. She didn't have the grace to blush - or had too much 
willpower. Finally, I tired of the
game. "Jennifer, Wanderer's cockpit is the strongest, most secure part of 
her. I built it; I should know. It
didn't just pop open during the crash."

Now she looked worried, but still didn't say anything. I went on.

"I know you hot-wired the controls to open the cockpit, Jennifer. I know you 
did the same to my personal
storage bin - unless you just happened to be carrying a first-aid kit 
identical to mine somewhere in your
luggage. You taped my ribs and set up camp like a pro." I sighed. "I don't 
really like surprises. Since you
dropped into my lap, I've had nothing but." Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I 
saw her right hand edging
around her waist towards the small of her back.

"Don't do it, Jennifer," I warned.

Her hand stopped its backward trek. "Why not?" she asked curiously, as if it 
were an everyday occurrence.
Yeesh. Her dark eyes looked up at me, and the vapid stare of before was 
gone. The flat, grim eyes of a
professional met mine, and I knew that she could - she would - gun me down 
without hesitation.

But there was something else there, something behind the killer's eyes that 
called to me. Not that it really
mattered, because if I didn't say something quick she was going to drill me. 
That much I was sure of.

"Because I'm not worth it?" I hazarded. "Because you'll be stuck out here 
all alone? Because I don't like cute
girls shooting me? Because I don't want to die?" I shrugged. "Take your 
pick; any of them work for me - I'm
not choosy."

Yuri: Dying is never any fun just ask Wolverine

She broke. Holding her stomach, she collapsed helplessly to the ground, 
laughing until the tears flowed. I
chuckled a bit myself, but for some reason didn't find the situation as 
humorous as she did. Go figure.

"Okay, Mr. Paranoia," she gasped between laughs. "I won't kill you with my 
oh-so-dangerous weapon." She
reached behind her back and produced a small, compact oblong package, which 
she then tossed up to me. I
caught it reflexively.

Battle: And she pulls out a lockpick
Yuri: what a cute girl not armed to the teeth?
Leona: Yeah what is this anime coming to

I opened the case cautiously... and groaned. Inside, nestled in a 
form-fitting foam sheath, lay a complex and
beautiful piece of electronic wizardry. It was an automated electronic 
bypass, a sort of intelligent lockpick...
one that worked on electronic devices, rather than mechanical ones. Painted 
a rich, deep blue, and showing
signs of heavy use, it was obviously still in perfect working condition. I 
now knew how she'd opened the
cockpit.

To this day, I wonder if I'll ever know just how many eggs I was wearing 
then.

Battle: 10.. 11..
Leona: How many more you want to throw?

"Like my 'gun'?" Jennifer asked before breaking into giggles again. I glared 
at her, but my heart wasn't in it.
Hell, even I know when I've made a fool of myself.

I tossed the box back down to her and climbed off Wanderer's hull. She'd 
calmed down by the time I got
there - lemme tell ya, climbing with broken ribs is a slow process! - but 
was still giggling and trying not to be
too obvious about it.

"Go ahead, laugh," I told her. "It WAS pretty funny, I have to admit."

Battle: Laughing when hurt is never a good idea
Leona: However for some strange reason it doesn't fall into the bad idea 
column

She shook her head. "Chet, what made you think I was going to go to all the 
trouble of fixing your ribs, just
to kill you the next day?"

I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it. Be damned if she wasn't right. I 
blushed again. "I ... um... I
dunno?"

She cheerfully informed me that I was an idiot.

Battle: Hey look there goes Gendo!
Yuri: Where?
Battle: Made you look

Well, duh. I shrugged and tried to look innocent.

"So how are we going to get out of here?" she asked again.

Battle: Fly?

"We walk," I stated flatly. She looked at me, and for a moment I thought she 
was going to argue it, but she
finally shrugged and looked away.

"Okay," she acquiesced. "What about water and food?"

Battle: Ah the basic essentials
Yuri: What no cheese puffs?

"Forget the food," I told her. "Water's the important thing. I've got some - 
about twenty liters or so - stored
in Wanderer. If the tank didn't crack, that is. And we can get more from -"

"- from the cactuses, I know," she finished.

I can't help it; it's a habit. "Cacti," I said primly. "The plural of cactus 
is cacti."

Leona: Oh no it's a English teacher run while you can

She looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "Whatever." She looked around 
and sighed. "So, we walk.
Fine. But where do we walk to?"

Yuri: I've done that
Battle: Grown a second head?
Yuri: Of course not but I've been given that look from Kei... a lot of 
times

I pulled the map I'd retrieved from the cockpit out of my back pocket. 
"Here," I said, unfolding it and
pointing to a small dot about fifty miles from our position with the 
scrawled notation "PO101" next to it.

Battle: Fifty miles in the hot desert
Yuri: Could be worse
Battle: How so?
Yuri: They could have cherries and ice cream to cross
Battle: ....

There was a moment of silence. "That's awfully far," she said doubtfully. I 
shook my head.

"Not really. We'll travel at night, and hole up during the day. At most, 
it'll take us three nights. We could do
it in two, but..." I shrugged. "I don't think my ribs could take it."

She nodded. "Speaking of which... I want you in bed, mister. Now. I'll pack 
up the gear."

Battle: And the hentais make more of that statement then was intended

"But -" I tried to protest.

"No buts. Bed. Now." She pointed an unwavering finger at the camp... such as 
it was.

I know a lost cause when it smacks me in the face. "Right," I sighed, and 
trudged off to bed.

What is it with me and bossy girls? I wondered, as I lay there contemplating 
the underside of Wanderer's
wing.

Battle: Statistically most anime girls are bossy
Yuri: No they aren't
Battle: See I told you so

Sleep was a long time in coming.

* * * 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


--

Battle: Number six finished finally Yuri: And there was much rejoicing
All: Yaah
Isoflex: Muahahahaha
Battle: what's he laughing over?

Battle: Bye all
Yuri: Cyall
Leona: Cyall?




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