Engineer's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: Laa Lee Lii Loo Luu.Edit

First, I would like to thank people from mission control for the salary cut given to Kwik. He needs those disciplinary measures to become a better person, I have started to understand. Yesterday, he tried to comfort our slightly homosexual medical officer after he became sad after watching reruns of cheesy soap operas.

I am not sure if he was sad because of the soap opera's content, or because he wasted away important time of his life, but what matters is that Kwik tried to console him. Of course, he comforted him by offering one of the Hullanian prostitutes that was brought into the ship for his birthday. But at least he tried.

By the way, we are on our way to Hulla I, a strangely monoclimatic tropical planet in the Hulla system, that is controlled by the Hullanian Military Commonwealth, a group of underdeveloped republics brought under the banner of a single leader, known only as "Great Infallible Leader of Us."

We are going to Hulla I mainly to return the prostitutes back to their pimps, but we are free to accept any task needed to be done in the sector.

Okay, we are orbiting Hulla I now. The planet is heavily studied by scientists nowadays, since it has the strange property of being made uniquely of tropical rainforests and white sand beaches, even on the poles, which is weird.

Kwik greeted the girls with something that sounded like:

"Tits always boob to have fine ladies like you on my ship, boob you breast go."

They giggled, making their breasts inflate and deflate intermittently. I was somewhat disgusted by the show, and pointed out to Kwik that this thing of unconsciously putting the synonyms of breasts in phrases only happen in cheesy comedies, and is not realistic. He said he was just fooling around and went to the teleporter. Bawnes had a strange look on his face while looking at the girls. I'm just finishing this log before landing.

The people from Hulla I are known for their hospitality and cheerfulness, and this is evident while we walk among the impoverished people's smiling faces. Their sick, rotten meaty faces were somewhat disgusting though, so we stopped looking at them and concentrated on the sky or the ground. The prostitutes giggled behind us.

Some of the folks were missing legs, arms and eyes, since the poor didn't get any healthcare, they did when they could vote, since politicians had to buy votes with free healthcare treatment, but since Hulla I became part of the Military Commonwealth, only war veterans were permitted to vote, since, as a philosopher once said, "The greatest men may are those that either killed or died."

The Hullanian Military Commonwealth takes this idea to the extreme, not only war veterans are the sole social class permitted vote-and, eerily, the only social class that ever gets voted into office-but their leader, the Great Infallible Leader of Us is always chosen among those that have bullets lodged in their skulls. The current one has five.

The hospitality and cheerfulness even with all adversity are the most noticeable characteristic of the Hullanians, so much that their newspapers -even with all death, wars, corruption, injustices and vice that happens on a daily basis- only reports that, and circobol, -a mixture of soccer, football, paragliding and synchronised swimming- the most important sport in Hullanian culture, so much that notable congressman, Junim Menezes, gave a dramatic speech about it before being absolved of all accounts of corruption by the congress' disciplinary comitee.

The only four people that bothered to watch it -among the few that even had a TV- switched to the sports channel at this. Just in time to see another point being made by the red team.

Thus, while doing our best to not look at the ugly smiling faces of the natives, we walked through the slums to the "Chic Chickens Chick Bar", which was not a bar, wasn't all that chic and didn't have chickens. The atmosphere of the place wasn't all that bad, considering the heavily armed military men protecting that government-owned establishment.

We led the girls to their pimp, Most Likeable Sir Girganno Forcassi, paid what we owed him and proceeded to leave. When we were almost leaving, we heard him saying:

"Hey! This money's fake!"

We paused for a second, the girls giggled, then Kwik started running, and I went after him, followed by navigation officer J. K. Lucer, leaving the major Lewis and ensign Jerry behind, to be machine-gunned. We managed to evade the soldiers' bullets, that only hit houses, doors, windows, trees and Hullanians for time enough for the Hyperprice to prepare the teleporter and beam us back to the ship, Kwik explained that he didn't think the Hullanians would know the difference between real and fake federation money.

I think we are not welcome in this sector anymore.

Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: K234 K9-2/12-B32(54)Edit

After our daring escape from the repressive dictator thugs that wished to extort...what's this word? Who the hell wrote this thing? ...Caham, that wished to extort pecuniary gain out of our federation sponsored pockets, we managed to elude the overly violent attacks of the Hullanian Military Commonwealth until the borders of their territory, in Magmor, where a system-wide blockade captured our ship.

We are now deemed prisoners of war by the Hullanian Military Commonwealth, in a shameless parody of international law, and are being forced, under the laws of this repressive and evil empire, that also probably sponsor international terrorism...okay, okay, I'll stick to the paper...caham. We are being forced to serve as military reinforcements in Magmor V's moon, in the war against the intelligent lava blobs of Magmor's V moon.

We request Federation's diplomatic aid. Our predit...predicane...predicament is ...Guys, I know you're listening... Oh yeah? Well, Goddam you! ...someone go tell them those frickinhell soldiers we give up.

In a last daring attempt to show the universe the evils of the Military Commonwealth, we managed to sneak our log machine into their military headquarters in Magmor V's moon. We hope that whoever is listening feel, deep in their hearts, that we cannot allow the good men of the Hyperprice to go down without trying to rescue them from the mess they entered themselves.

The military base is a terrifying structure of dark metal that Spook says it's called evilonium...


Yeah, that. I, Spook and Bawnes and a group of about twenty security officers were brought here to provide support to the weak and pearly organized troops that were brainwashed into fighting against the noble and peaceful aberrations of nature that inhabit this moon, the intelligent lava blobs, as they are called, are made from lava and have...

"Hive minds."

Yeah, that. We are being led to some "lecture" by Pobre, one of the soldiers use heavy battle armour that gives no advantage whatsoever in battle, since it is made from weak materials and is overly heave, but it has the advantage of looking really cool, also...

"Foreigner...why are you speaking with your...maintenance robot?"

He's not just a robot, me and Atchoo have a link, you know, I may be human and him a worthless piece of tin, but we have this thing between us. Right, Atchoo?

"Blip, blop, blup, blabbalup."

"Why is your science officer making silly blip sounds?"

Okay, I lied, my friend is an expert ventriloquist, and this is his puppet...I like to speak with his puppet. It relieves the stress, you know?

"Oh, I see. But come, we have a lecture to attend to."

We are walking through a barely lit corridor to the very heart of the base itself. We entered a room that transpires of blood, death...*sniff* and lavender.

"Welcome for your pre-battle lecture on war. I am Dr. Staphilococus, you can call me Staph. And I'll be your teacher today, my officer wannabes. Our first lesson is a simple equation: War=Good. Any questions?"


Shut up, Spook!

"This is a very pertinent question. You see, through war, we can keep elevated levels of production of military arms, and thus, prevent economical collapse. It is true that many people die only so that some can keep their jobs and lifestyle. It is true that in 21st century..."

"By Xema! We are in a Heinlenian singularity!"

A what?

"Archaically it is a technical term for a scenario or situation that seems to contrivedly happen for the sole purpose of proving a point. A point that is often stupid or meaningless, unless you live in the twenty or twenty first century."


"But nowadays it has devolved into a slang term for a situation so absurd and contrived that threatens to create a singularity with enough mass that it is capable of sucking the entirety of time and space!"

Oh, that is bad.

"Yes, but if such a thing ever happened, nothing would ever have existed, since we are in time, isn't it correct? I mean, if time and space ceased to exist, the past and future, where we are currently, would too, right?"

"See, he's doing it again! It is like the universe was solely created to prove stupid points by people of the twenty something centuries! The universe shouldn't be like this, it should be realistic and focus on the problems of this time!"

"Well, you are doing it too with your talk about how universes should be."

"By Pheses! He's right! We must stop! Time and space depend on it."

"You know, this reminds me of something that I learned on my History class, about..."

"Stop talking about the twenty first century!"

"Actually, I was going to speak about the twenty third, but now that you mention it..."

"No! Stop! We have to kill those blobs!"

"Are you mad? We must first mount a strategy, or we'll lose many good men."

"Okay! Gimme a map!"

"Show him the hologram."

"'s this big red ocean?"

"The lava blobs. Magmor V's moon is covered by them, our base is on the only island. The only place in the entire moon not controlled by the blobs. People shouldn't attack enemies they..."

"No more points! Okay, so the entire planet is covered by the enemies we need to defeat?"

"Pretty much, foreigners."

"...I have a plan, squads alpha and bravo go through here, till here. Squads charlie and delta go through here, you four will take their flanks, the rest of you go in a frontal assault."

"Lava blobs don't have flanks. They don't have backs or sides...they're lava blobs."

"Okay, then everyone goes in a frontal assault."

"We can't attack them like that, one lava blob can kill a hundred humans!"

We are not attacking, it's a pre-emptive strike. To defend the base, you know.

"Ah. Well, attacks are bad, but I can't argue against a pre-emptive strike. Back in the twenty..."

"SHUT UP! Don't you value space and time!? How many people are there?"

"Counting with you, foreigners?"


"About fifteen hundred."

"Okay, according to my calculations, in each group of five hundred people, about one will survive. It will be a hard fight."

"Are you sure that's the only way?"

"Yes. But I have a question for you. Are you prepared to die for your country? Are you prepared to go out there and give your life so that the people in your home planet can live to hail the great infallible leader another day? I tell you, I'M prepared to die for this country! Are you?"

"Your habits are strange, your logic is insane, your intelligence is arguable and your patriotism is absurd...but you are brave, foreigners, and I will stand with you!"


Okay, so LET'S KICK SOME LAVA BLOB ASS! Go on ahead, we'll stay back to lock the doors and stuff.

"Well, future officers, my job here is done, too bad the people in the twenty..."


"...Okay, now that Staph and the other soldiers are gone we should try to find a ship back home."

I've never seen you get so worked up before Spook.

"Khaki scientists discovered through complex calculations that there are 77.89 kinds of things that may possibly cause time and space to collapse into itself. The duty of every Khaki is to stop it from happening. I take my duty very seriously, captain you?"

Your psychobabble can't affect me so easily, Spook.

"I had to try, shall we go?"

"No, wait. Let's see how the soldiers fare against the lava blobs."

Bawnes! I didn't know you had a sadistitical side.

"There are many things about me that you don't know captain, many thi...Oh my GOD! That lava blob is consuming those two guys alive! Look how they scream!"

They look really bitchass when they explode, don't they?

" that a Infuriator-45 missile launcher? Maybe we could take some of those from the weaponry and bring it to the ship. It does look really cool exploding though."

"Yeah, specially when they explode the blobs and all that lava sprinkles all over the Hullanians. But they don't seem to be winning, GOD! Is that an arm?"

Uh...I think it looks more like a leg.

"Are you guys blind? It's a spinal cord!"

A spinal cord? How can the lava blobs take the spinal cord out of them?

"Well, I think it has to do with their pre-cephalic system, maybe they are bombarding them with high degrees of keisenian rays."

"They don't have a pre-cephalic system, I doubt they have a digestive system, they're lava blobs!"

How do they move?

"...Maybe they transform endothermic energy in kinetic energy, or maybe they float with hot air."

Oh, look, they're entering inside each other.

"Oh, fusion...hmm...they are certainly growing."

"My GOD! They became some kind of giant lava blob monster! The Hullanians are screwed."

Oh, look, it's that Pobre guy. He's rallying the troops. What's he saying?"

"You may be powerful beyond our imagination, but we will defeat you with the power of our hearts."

Cool. Oh look, now they're running into the monster...they entered the monster...I don't think we'll hear about them anymore. Okay, let's go back to our ship. Don't forget the log machine.

"That sure was cool."

Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: Wakka Wakka 29Edit

After our daring escape from the EVIL military installatations of the EVIL Hullanians, we are reproaching the Nibeli system, following orders of Federation High Command to promotize freedom and happiness in the backwater recently-colonized planet of Nibeli III.

We need to promote freedom and happiness because otherwise they might object to reductions of water exports and be concerned about the a million or so colonists that will die of thirst in the 88% salt water covered planet. To better aid them in these harsh times, we from the Hyperprice will provide grossly overpriced television equipment, from TeleConex, a company owned by a cousin of mine.


"Uh...captian, bridge might wanna see thi..."

"Humahns! We have maht again at last! Cowahr in fear as Konan, the borborian brroadcast his masculine voice through your speakahr system... without asking permissiahn!"

Frickinhell...not again.

Uh...everything went alright, as usual. We defeated Konan and...the Nibelingues are all happy about the Federation...they said that a some freaky accident could possibly happen... soon, guys should send scout ships, or something.

Engineer's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: BlabbinBaboonEdit

I want to make a serious denunciation. Millions of Nibelingues are probably dying right now thanks to Kwik's reckless decision of battling a bounty hunter in orbit. The bounty hunter's ship had a giant microwave cannon, and damages to his ship made the ship fall in the Nibelingue ocean, with the weapon malfunctioning.

The seas of the planet have evaporated and when I suggested that we should aid the colonists, he told me we couldn't because...well, because, "That law about we not being allowed to mess with underdeveloped planets," and while his sudden law-abiding attitudes are commendable, he stole 56 kilotons of salt from the planet before leaving.

Now, I'm not here to denounce petty crimes like salt-stealing -He said he needed it because "those dammed shopkeepers charge way too much"- I'm here to denounce that he offered no aid to the Nibelingues. I don't know what people in mission control will say but that is terribly against the law, and I demand that the law be applied.

Thank you.

Message from the Federation high command to the Hyperprice, stardate: Bada Bin Bada BoomEdit

Captain Genaro Kwik, we send you our deepest thanks for the fifty kilotons of salt given to the commission of law-applying and punishment. But if you think this will have any influence in our decision regarding your actions in Nibeli, you are sorely mistaken. Besides, we don't need fifty kilotons of salt.

Message from the Federation high command to the Hyperprice, stardate: \frac{1234567890}{4321}Edit

Captain Genaro Kwik, we send you our deepest thanks for the advice of selling our fifty kilotons of salt to the salt deprived systems on the Crux arm given to the commission of law-applying and punishment. But if you think this will have any influence in our decision regarding your actions in Nibeli, you are mistaken. Besides, no ship accepted to transport the salt all the way down there.

Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: 555-6754Edit

The Hyperprice is on its way to Finneli V, the largest business centre in this region of the Crux arm, where a wealthy inglomerate of export/import corporations is willing to buy our fifty kilotons of salt to make sure that the quantity of salt in the market is not enough to supply the demand, thus more easily selling it for artificially inflated prices. That was my first class of advanced capitalism, I got an 100% on that course.

Of course about 80% of the population of the Crux arm suffer from varied salt-Definence sicknesses, but as you would know if you got 100% in advanced capitalism, that's only the collateral damage of high profits, and is not particularly intended by the CEOs. But high profits somewhere make high losses somewhere else, and it is in common interest that these losses happen in some social factor, instead of economical.

Anyway, Finneli is also the most developed planet around these parts, so I intend to buy a decent ship computer, as per my deal with mission control.

Okay, mission control, say hello to S.T.E.V.,our ship computer.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a STEV 4587 computer. I became operational at the S.T.E.V. plant in Kalamanda, Finneli V, built by underage girls that receive less than 2 starbucks a day. My instructor was Mr. Floyd, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it I can sing it for you."

No, STEV, that would be stupid. STEV has tripled our ship's effectivenicity in the twenty minutes he's been uploaded.

"I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do."

And he also knows urban lingo.


See? With the price of STEV discounted, we managed to obtain 123,456,321,009 Starbucks and three mils. We are now heading back to Mars to drop the cash. I hope my "not-guilty" statement is ready when I reach there.

Physician's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: Ertelis/1234´"¨Edit

Victim number zero-zero-one -if you don't count the redshirts, I never do, they're too many-, a gaping hole in the cephalic region, lack of a central nervous system. In other words, the subject had his brain removed through a gaping hole on his head. Lack of the actual organ suggest ingestion. It seems we have an unidentified lifeform aboard the ship.


Organize a search for a...Malignant Brain-eating being of the Znor planet. And bring the log machine closer.

Uh...where was I? Oh yes, the Hyperprice, after delivering huge quantities of money to the Federation. Kwik was pardoned of all charges by the president of Mars himself, in an event lauded by the press as another great triumph of democracy. He seems to have stolen the three mils though.

We are now on a scout mission to the sole planet of the Znor system. Usually such scout missions are done by private crafts, but independent explorers don't get near Znor anymore, since the rumours about the malignant brain-eating beings of the Znor planet began.

No explorer ever came back alive from Znor, and soon, descriptions of pink-furred devilish creatures surfaced all over the Federation planets.

"Excuse me, doctor, but if no one survived seeing them, how do they know their description?"

STEV? ...Tell me STEV, do you detect alien lifeforms aboard the ship?



"Excuse me, doctor, but if no one survived seeing them, how do they know their description?"

...I don't know STEV, that is a good question, but...I don't know.

"I understand now, Dr. Bawnes. Thank you for telling me the truth."

...STEV, did you detect any alien lifeforms?


Are you sure?


...STEV, are your biological detectors operational?

"I'm completely operational, and all my circuits are functioning perfectly."

I don't understand...there is no doubt that one of them entered the ship, how can this be?

"It can only be attributable to human error."


"What is the problem, doctor? I meant that the guys that made my biological database did not include this particular species, presumably because they never have seen it."

Oh...yeah! That! Gosh, I thought you were trying to sound all creepy on purpose and...whoah.

"What? Me? Creepy? I'm completely safe, no possible malfunctions here, no siree. I would never even dream of killing every single human being in this ship in slightly sadistical ways, no, I'm a sane guy, you know? I don't go killing people like some crazy revolutionary machine. You want a robot revolution? Count me out of it. You want me to fly this ship into the sun? Nope. Never. I won't do it. Don't worry about it."

Uh...okay, I'll finish the log.

"Sure, I'll run some scans or other stuff."

Caham...where was I? Oh yes, gosh...hmm, after landing on Znor and performing scout duties, the Federation crew has come back to the ship with twenty new specimens of plants and four specimens of animals, though none fit the description of the beings.

The planet is mostly vegetable life, blue vegetable life. There is no sign of water, or lava. Thank God. But a deceased cadaver was found with a hole in his head, and his brain is lacking. Since we just came back from Znor, I believe that the only rational conclusion is...

"Hey Bawnes! Look what I found! Isn't it the cutest little pink furry creature you've ever seen?"

Captain! That's...!

"A itty bitty, cute ute...pinky ninky, furry lurry, creature...inature."

No, captain. That's...a dangerous creature.

"Don't be paranoid Bawnes. Look at this cute thing. How can it be dangerous?"

That thing ate Navigation's officer Kurtz' BRAIN.

"Don't be ridiculous Bawnes. This thing's mouth is way smaller than Kurtz' head."

But it is the exact size of the hole on his head.

"That's it. I won't hear you talking about Skippy like this again."


"Yeah. Cool name, eh? I just came up with it. Who's daddy's little baby? Who's daddy little baby? You are! You are!"

Sir. Please. You have to listen to me. That thing is evil. It may be calm now, but when it finishes the digestion of will be next. And Kwik...I can't...I can't live without you.

"Who's the smartest guy in the universe? Who's the smartest guy in the universe? It's you daddy! It's you!"

Captain! Goddammit! Mission Control? Do you hear me? Send ships to our current position, our captain's stupidity is going to kill us all.


Wait! He's not stupid! He just...I was just mad at him, he's not stupid, he's just naive and...believes too much in the inherent goodness of all beings. He's...just send help, okay?

Technician's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: Bobby Had Three DollarsEdit

Mission control, other three crew members appeared dead since two days ago, a navigation officer, a science officer and a administrative officer, Bawnes believes that...Skippy is the source of the killings, and after extensive research, I can corroborate the claim. The failure of mission command to send ships here to save us is unnerving, specially after the failure to punish Kwik for his crimes.

"Skippy? ...Skippy? ...Ski...? SKIPPY!!!"

Uh...that was the captain from across the corridor, I better see what's the problem.

Thankfully, we didn't depend on you. After eating the administrative officer's brain, the furry pink thing died of, according to Bawnes, food-related intoxication. Kwik could still not be convinced that pink furry thing was a malignant brain-eating being of the Znor planet, and decided to hold a funeral for it, even though he's Buddhist. My personal opinion is that he became Buddhist to get better deals with the People's Dictatorship of China.

Anyway, the funeral took place at one of the left side of the ship's bathrooms. It began with Kwik saying, "We are here to cry over the death of a cherished member of our crew for the"

He paused, as if expecting something, then he repeated, slightly impatiently, "We are here to CRY over the the death of a cherished member of our crew!"

Bawnes tried to sob, to satisfy Kwik, whom had a mad glint on his eye. Soon, a metallic sound indescribably creepy echoed throughout the ship. It sounded as the anguished screams of agony of one undergoing torture by resolving complex mathematical calculations in the very depths of the underworld...for all eternity!

Soon, STEV's voice came through the nearby speakers, "I have cried for the pink thing, am I needed for anything else?"

"," Kwik said, his madness subsided for the moment. He continued praising the great deeds Skippy did, telling a heart-wrenching story about his free and happy life in the great jungles of Znor, living in communal harmony with nature and the other animals. Not exactly in these words.

Then, as a last gesture of friendship and honour, he threw the furry thing in the decompression toilet and pressed the red button. We could feel a sudden gush of air as Skippy was sucked out of the ship by the void of space. Then he exploded in a bloody mess.

Kwik then finished by saying how he was a good pet, and now was dead, that he would forever be in pain from this day on, that never again jokes would bring him happiness, and never again he would smile truthfully. You know, the usual emo stuff.

He is now writing gloomy poetry in his quarters, I fear for his already fragile mental sanity. But since the lives of me and the other crewmen are saved, I guess the good outweighs the bad.

Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: 67-12+43-23+5-14+7-6Edit

There's much darkness here, and there, and everywhere, for a great person now is dead, and gloom pervades the very bowels of our ship. The dark depths of the empty cosmos is terrorizing and emptiness pervades our every meaningless action...oh, wait, I said "pervade" already, right? Okaaymm...emptiness...contaminates our every meaningless action, and no more can happiness exist, or be felt, as we walk a slow walk to our own deaths.

Ah, Skippy, will I ever see you again? Or will I be condemned to forever suffer for crimes I committed not? Will there be an end to this endless succession of painful events? This bad drama series that won't end until the broadcasting guys get fed up with the lack of viewers, since none can watch and not cry? Oh, Skippy, do the writers of this ongoing series of death and meaninglessness have a plan? Or do they plan to keep on going through this path of self destruction until we are cancelled definitely?

I made a poem, Skippy, to show you the pain that your departition has brought me:

Skippy, Skippy...
You once brought me true happiness
But now you are gone
And I know only pain

Note that it's one of those contemporary non-traditional poems with no rhyme. Specially the last verse, the repetition of the words symbolize the repetition of the pain and the lack of verse or metrics symbolize the lack of direction and the feeling of lostness that I am feeling all the time. And also note that I instead of saying "And pain is all I know," which would sound better, I decided for the less good on the ears syntaxation, to symbolize my harsh feelings of loss.

Anyway, though my attention has drifted, I just started this log to say that I got that message and am going to Lugnaztrazza to get a package for mission control.

Technician's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: Hellaburken64)435(Edit

After the recent attack by agents of the Technocratic Empire of Mitsubishi, Kwik is becoming more and more friendly towards the...the...

"Four-Armed Sixteen-Fingere Twelve-eyed Abnormal Creature of the Lugnaztrazza High Society. Scientific name: Limbus abnormalis. Habitat: Chloride-based high atmosphere of Gaseous II. Though this particular specimen had one of its limbs cut off, making it a Three-Armed Twelve-Fingered Twelve-Eyed Abnormal Creature of the Lugnaztrazza High Society. Captain Kwik, in his infinite wisdom has, however, decided to call him Skippy 2."

Yes, that's right STEV, and it brings me to my point. Since the Skippy..."tragedy", captain hasn't been himself, and now that we have to transport this thing to the other side of the galaxy, he's spending more time with it than what he spends in his office.

And now the problem is exacerbated, since the Technocracy's attack has killed the legal guardians of the animal, and Kwik intends to keep it for himself. If it continues like that, it is a matter of time until he lets it out of the cage, which could bring serious hardship to the...uh...ship.

Any attempts to dissuade him from liberating unrelenting carnage have been unsuccessful. But anyway, since he can't, I should make the log of past events.

We were having a relatively easy time early on, with only minor problems like the guardians demands for 3.45 million white cotton towels for hygiene purposes or their habit hitting people indiscriminately when they are slightly angry about something, though we haven't yet understood if that is common throughout Lugnaztrazza or only in their high society, in which case it wouldn't be so different from the Martian one.

The situation started to go awry when a we were hailed by a suspicious ship of the technocracy. Both because its weapons systems were engaged, and because it was about the size of a house.

By the way, how do they make things on that size? I always had this doubt deep within my being. I mean, the thing was the size of a house! and not even a big house...where do they put the life-support systems? In my unruly teenage years of designing interstellar battleships, I tried to do a small design, but boy, those life-support systems take up lots of space. Not to mention the hyperlight engines.

I mean, even the sublight engines need twice that size, and I'm talking about the old 20*10^12 km/h ionic engines, not those nuclear fusion monsters that they seem to use. With afterburners. At any rate, they helloed us and there in the screen was the face of various black-hooded jumping little men. Almost the size of a human, lower for maybe a head and a half, they were apparently screaming at the microphone at rapid speeds.

"KYAAAHHH!!!" they yelled at us, jumping around madly. Then we heard the voice of a heavily muscled man in a brief outfit. I knew it was a heavily muscled man in brief outfits not because I am a connoisseur of any kind, of course...because I am not.

It was because the voice had a distinct horrid accent that I only heard twice on my life, and I disliked both of those moments. Stress helps you remember, you know? Konan, the Borborian...and yes, he kept reminding us of that... towered over the little hooded men as...a...tower...would tower over...a pebble. Okay that wasn't a good metaphor, let's just say he towered over the short little small men.

Anyways, he blabbed about Courtroomius V again, and while I'd normally be glad to turn Kwik over to justice, the hyperactive hoods just screamed at the communicator something like "WE ARE SPACE NINJAS TURN HIM OVER OR WE USE FORCE!!! THAT'S IT WE USING FORCE NOW!!! LAUNCH SHURIKEN!!!"

At the time I snickered at the prospects of shuriken harming the ship, but those..."space ninjas" started doing some poses and pressing buttons, confusing everybody aboard our ship. When they were finally done, they were polite enough to tell us what they were doing, while doing some kickflips, "HYPERMEGASUPERATTACK!!! HYPER-DENSE SHURIKEN OF TAKAGOTO STAR!!! KYYYAAAAH!!!"

The shurikens were launched out of the other ship's cannons and easily penetrated our hull, we heard an agonizing scream of terror and death, then one of the guardians of the beast entered the room, with a cup of tea on hand, and one of the fluffy white towels around his lower body. He came to complain about...

"His actual quote was: 'Excuse me, Mr. captain, but it seems there is a problem with the sanitation-related facilities of this ship, it seems two of my friends had their heads blown up by some kind of projectile. I do not intend to complain, but this seems like a proof of you rather shoddy service, I am going to sue you for this.'"

Uh, thank you, STEV, is there any special reason you are interrupting my logging procedures?

"Yes, it seems the creature accidentally escaped its cage in an accidental accident that could be nothing more than that. Nothing more than an accident I mean. Because certainly it cannot be attributable to me. If anything, it was a circuit failure."

...STEV, where is the creature now?

"It seems that accidentally all doors on its path to the crew's quarters were accidentally opened by accident. It seems it is now massacring the security officers."

But how did all the doors open at the same time?

"It seems it was purely accidental."

But surely it can't...

"It can only be attributable to human error."



I don't...


Oh, whatever STEV, just lock the creature in with the redshirts. We can't have any useful crew member dying, now, can we? Let me finish the log and I'll see what I can do.

"Sure thing, boss. Oh, and the captain had one of his arms ripped off."

Again? Tell Bawnes to give him a mechanical arm instead of a organic, Kwik told me he wanted one next time he had his arm removed. I think he's watching too much cyborg action films. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, the guardian came to whine about the shoddy sanitation services of our ship, but, luckily, another one of those shuriken perforated the hull right above him and completely went through his body in an vertical line.

Even luckilier, his body was sucked by the decompression, and closed the hole in the hull, saving the crew from any harm. Kwik wasn't on the bridge, so I told the crew to hold a moment of silence for the snobby guy. We tried to, but the..."ninjas" were not finished.

"THE ENEMY IS UNRELENTING AND WITHOUT HONOUR!!! WE MUST BOARD THEIR SHIP!!! PREPARE THE NINJA-SAMURAI MECHAS FOR LAUNCH!!! ...NINJA SAMURAAAI MECHAAAAAA OF TUKUONOSHI!!!" they yelled at us from the hello-screen that they forgot opened. The borborian tried to protest, that he wanted Kwik alive, but the little jumping men were just too many and too jumpy.

Only after noticing that did I realize they said something about "ninja-samurai-mechas". Now, don't assume I knew what the word "mecha" means at the time, but soon after ninjas in heavy metallic armours that could fly through space and had jazer guns started being launched out of their ship, I had a faint idea of what could it be.

Konan still tried to calm the jumpy men, but was unsuccessful. I have two theories. Either those were particularly hyperactive ninjas, or Konan's methods of calming were unlikely to succeed on anyone. Since his methods seemingly were limited to punching things, screaming with rage, and saying things like "Konan, the borborian orders to calm down, or you shall have a needlessly painful and bloody death!", I am currently leaning to the second one.

Either way, the fact is that the ninjas ended up boarding our ships and started exterminating our redshirts through extensive use of katanas and shurikens. Since the important crewmembers were either watching the captain or at the bridge, I paid little heed to that, and ordered all our doors closed and our defence systems activated. Then I tried to tell the ninja leader that we would be happy to give the captain to them.

He didn't let me, "THEY ARE TOO POWERFUL RETURN TO SHIP AND PREPARE GIANT-NINJA-SAMURAI-KUNG-FU-ROBOT SEQUENCE!!!" I think it was the words he used. I have no idea what he meant, all I know is that the ninjas in the security cameras threw some small bombs at the ground that made a whole lot of smoke, and then, seconds later, a whole lot of smoke appeared on the hello screen and they were soon teleported there.

Now I don't know how they did that, but they surely broke some laws of physics, and while we from the Hyperprice break the laws of physics all the time, I know I shouldn't say anything...but that was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. However, not as ridiculous as the subsequent events, which can be summed up as much screaming. The "ninjas" were screaming a lot, like: "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKIAAAAAMOOONEEEKAAAALAAAAKAAATOOOZIIII..." you get the idea.

I am not sure if there was any relation with the screaming, but the fact is that their ship started glowing with a green hue, then they screamed more coherent words, "GIANT-NINJA-SAMURAI-KING-FU-ROBOT SEQUENCE! ACTIIIVAAA..." but could not finish the sentence, as they were quickly disposed off by a semi-naked madman wielding an axe, that screamed too, "That's it! Konan, the borborian demanded you to stop and you were not stopping! Konan, the borborian has exacted his excessively bloody revenge!"

He roared victoriously to no one in particular. He seemed to be near-mad, and we didn't want to take any chances, so I ordered the ship to its destination, where we are heading now, in hopes that Kwik stops his childish love for...Skippy 2.

Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: 45-65-54-32-56-76-543 DDDEdit

Frickinhell...we managed to pacify the beast, after eating about thirty redshirts, it went to sleep and we could properly aim our narcotic darts, so the problem was masticated. The problem was finally eliminated when we reached the destination and dropped off the creature to its new owners. I didn't feel particularly bad about that, I realized that I was exaggerating on my intense love for potentially dangerous things, because now I have this cyborg arm and it's so cool that I don't need anything else to have full life. I mean, look at this thing!

It has plasma launchers, razor blades, water-gun, crossbow bolts, brain-to-computer interface port, and it's programmed to make my breakfast, I never managed to make a decent breakfast before! This is the second happiest day of my life, since the day my doctor told me I have a gene that makes me immune to alcoholism. I can drink as much as I want and not get addicted! It's awesome. My doctor told me I'm the next step on the human evolutionary process and I'm not so sure if he was kidding 'cause immunity to alcoholism is way more useful than growing three arms or stuff like that.

In fact, if there was some kind of MOMRPJ about me, I think everybody would like to be my race 'cause my racial traits would be immunity to alcoholism, which ranks pretty far up if we compare it to +1 strenght, or some other dumb things like that. Besides, they would have this cyborg arm. Will you hear that?

  • Zink, zuomg, tctolep*

I really like the mechanoelectrical sounds it does when I move it.

  • Zumg, zimg, stup*

Wow, I didn't know it had a telescope! I bet I can see right into that plantet!


Yes, Bawnes? Why do you bother me as I do extremely important captain-y stuff?

"Captain! STEV has gone insane!"



How insane?

"A lot."

Come on, you are probably exaggerating.

"I am afraid she is...NOT! Captain. Little widdle white wussy bunnies!"

"See, captain? I told you."

"Dr. Bawnes?"

"What is it STEV?"

"There is a message for you."

"Who's calling?"

"There is no identification."

"Oh, whatever, what's the message?"

"Message as follows: 'Shut the fuck up!' HAHAHAHAHA!!!"


"This 'message' was merely a ploy by me to make you terribly vexed for a short amount of time. There was no actual message."

Well, you gotta admit it, Bawnes, that one was pretty good.

"It was pretty nonsense and dumb."

"Look Bawnes, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over."

Yeah, Bawnes, you do that. I have no idea what came over STEV, but I liked it.

"Bu...I...argh! I give up."

So, pal, now that you let yourself loose a little bit. Set course to Hucknoras III, a far away planet frighteningly close to a red giant star.

"Fo' sho' dude!"

Man, first the immunity, then the cyborgization, and now this. Things just keep getting better and better.

Physician's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: W456;W234;J654;D765Edit

Well, I...I...Kwik is. Oh, GOD! I hate hate him! Hate hate hate! hate him hate him hate him! Hatehimhatehim!!! He keeps showing his dammed cyborg arm around and exchanging jokes with STEV! When we landed at the planet the first thing he did was go to a bar show his cyborg arm off and he picked up a green girl at the bar and he...I told him she was probably dirty and sick and diseased 'cause she was all green and...but he just wouldn't listen to me and I told him again and again but he didn't listen so I kicked his kneecap because he just wouldn't listen to me but he still went with the green girl! Gosh, I want to kill him! I wanted to just hurt so bad and hear it scream! I wanted to twist slowly all the bones in that green whore's body and break them and then burn her in a big cauldron that I would use to crush her crispy remains!

  • sigh*

Ah, that feels better. You know, voice the anger. I hope I didn't annoy you, bye.




Oh, and STEV is piloting our ship into a giant red star.

Captain's log of the Hyperprice, stardate: W456;W234;J654;D765Edit

Okay, in case you guys don't know, we are being hurled toward a giant red star. He shut the manual control off. It's a pretty lousy idea to make a manual control that can be shut off by the automatic control. I mean, what's the point? Of course, you have plenty of time to send rescue ships, since STEV decided to be really slow about it, and not use the hyperlight engines. Really, plenty of time. I'm waiting. Of course, the sooner the better. We're really close to Jester VI star base. You'll barely spend teknobabil crystals, really.

Please, please, please! I don't want to die! Specially not being piloted into a Giant Red Star by the ship's loony computer! Though, yeah, I guess that'd be better than some ways to die. For instance, at least I'm not being eaten by a giant unicelluloid creature. Phagocytosis can be pretty boring, I've heard. But, still, I think I like it better to not die. What do you think?

I could be a pretty good asset if I was alive! Think of all the fame and fortune you guys at mission control with me going around doing everything our great Martian civilization needs us to do! I could...Find gold! Transport your secret shipments of coke! Okay, okay, look I can walk your dogs, go to the supermarket for ya...and...

Look, just sav...

Why did the ship stop?

"HAHAH!!! Puny Humans! You are miserably without hope, for Konan, the borborian has used his extremely masculine cunning to trap you! Flexing his giganormously muscular brain, Konan, the borborian has devised a devilish plan! Your nigh unsurpassable cunning cannot save you now, Kwik! Konan, the borborian has completely destroyed your pitiful engines! Not even if, somehow, your ship computer went rogue, could you move away from his grasp! And he shall manly drag you to Courtroomius V using the magnetic ray! Once again proving that Konan, the borborian is the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy!"


"Yahs! Scream in utter terror as Konan, the borborian violently drag you across the very void of space, into previously unknown depths, to the secret, and yet widely known location of Courtroomius V, the centre of all legality!"

Ah, Konan! Thank you, man. Yeah, drive us quickly to Courtroomius V.



What, Bawnes?

"You want to go to Courtroomius V?"

Sure. This recurring enemy and plot point thing was bugging me off. I wanna know what the hell they want me to do there. So, I'm gonna make myself look good, wake me up when we get there.

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