The Cool Blue Blog

Star Chores: Margaritaville

"Do we at least have shields?" Teresa asked nervously.

"Yes, we most surely do," Gabby replied, "but a long time they will not last, I am very sure."

The klaxons continued to sound.

"They are closing in," Attar announced, "taking evasive maneuvers."

The passengers compartment rocked as the craft shifted suddenly and climbed.

They continued to maneuver and suddenly they were all thrown to the floor as a loud report echoed through the craft.

"Direct hit!" Attar yelled.

"Oh! The shields they are almost gone." Gabby said.

They were rocked once more as Attar started another evasive pattern.

"Hold on," Attar yelled, "we are about to get hit again...."

Star Chores: Cab Fare

Cathy moved fast, feeling her way down the hall. Behind her she could hear distant crashing, then some phasor fire, and then silence.

"Damn it, Teresa ," she thought. "You had better not die." She decided to wait where she was in the darkness, phasor pointed back up towards the door. Suddenly a powerful flashlight blazed on. She could not see who was behind the bright light. She held her breath, waiting motionless.

Star Chores: Band on the Run

They ran through the door of the diner, Teresa taking up the rear. As they exited, she noticed two patrons getting up and heading towards their position, and a sudden fear squeezed her stomach. She breathed deeply and just held herself back from pushing her companions out the door.

They piled out onto the sidewalk.

"OK, let's slow down," Cathy ordered, "and walk. We don't want to draw any attention to ourselves."

John snorted, but "too late" was all that he said. The little group slowed and tried to stroll while Sissy's shoes kept flashing their red alarm.

Cathy shot him a glance. "Sissy, walk around a bit and see if the shoes can tell us which direction we need to go." Sissy complied nervously, as the rest split their attention between her attention-grabbing shoes and the curious passersby.

"Uh, Cathy?" Teresa interrupted.

Cathy didn't even turn around. "Hold on, Teresa," she snapped. "Sissy, anything?"

Sissy squinted against the early sunlight's glare for any change in the pulsation of her shoes. "Yeah, I think ... this way ..." and she turned to face the street.

Behind her, Cathy heard the sound of a phasor blast. Then another. As she whirled around, she saw two bodies crumple to the pavement, and Teresa with her phasor in her hand.

"What the..."

"Holding on wasn't an option," Teresa explained. "These guys meant business, see?" She pointed. Two strange looking weapons lay beside the bodies. People on the sidewalk were backing away from the guns and the bodies now. It wouldn't be long before the local law enforcement showed up.

"All right, cover's blown," Cathy said urgently, "let's get moving. Sissy, which way?"

Sissy pointed and they all headed across the street. Greyhawk noticed a ragged street preacher suddenly stop haranguing the morning sleepwalkers, step off his makeshift podium and head their way, and the Engineer pulled his phasor to cover the suspicious advance. In front of him, John spied a bum, apparently sleeping moments before, rousing himself. The man stood upright and pointed at them. John swung his shotgun up from its hiding place inside his coat.

"Incoming," he whooped, then fired, blowing the man off his feet and back into the gutter he'd stood up from. "Whatta sweet kick!" he grinned, pumping another shell into the chamber.

Star Chores: Dressed to Kill

"I'm just saying you could have gotten something with a bit more material, is all," Cathy said wearily, surveying her skimpy outfit. "I might as well be naked."

They were sitting in an all night sports restaurant waiting for their food.

"Yeah, and couldn't you find me anything other than a potato sack?" Sissy chimed in. She wrinkled her nose as she looked down. "It's just a bit undignified for a Starship Captain. Shapeless. No style. Don't you think?" The other women nodded vigorously.

"Well, you know, we didn't have much choice," John said. He settled back comfortably against the grubby plastic of the corner booth they were squeezed into, unfazed by the rain of complaints that greeted the results of his shopping trip with Greyhawk. "It was the only place open this late at night, and they only sold clothes that were on, uh, the more erotic side." His eyes crinkled in a devilish grin. "Hey, Greyhawk said he thought you'd look good in that, Cathy, and he was right!" Cathy shot Greyhawk a look, but he was busy examining his coffee spoon for spots.

Star Chores: Don't let that deal go down

“Hey, what’s that?” John nodded to an apparent clandestine transaction happening by the side of an abandoned building.

“Not, sure,” Greyhawk answered, “but it looks like something we should investigate.”

They pulled their bikes over to the curbside just as the buyer was departing the scene. The two men parked and strolled over to the “retailer”, who was a scrawny little guy, wearing oversized pants and sweatshirt. The hood was draped over his head, headphones keeping it in place as he bopped to unheard music. Even though it was late at night, he wore sunglasses. He noticed the men walking towards him.

“He, what you want, man. I got all the goodies you need to part-ay” the skinny guy said.

John leveled his shotgun. “Money.”

The guy looked scared and stammered, “hey man, you guys don’t want to rip me off. I ain’t got much and the guy I work for is gonna come looking for you. He gonna break you.”

John and Greyhawk exchanged glances.

“OK, we won’t rip you off,” John said without dropping his weapon, “just tell us where we can find the guy you work for.”

Now the guy looked really scared. “What?”

Star Chores: Shootin' Pool

Greyhawk and John stopped just outside a bar. They could hear loud music mixed with the voices of people laughing and talking. Lining the parking area out front was a collection of large motorcycles.

The men looked at each other and nodded. They took out their hand phasors and walked inside.

The two men entered the bar and stopped just inside the threshold. The place was crowded with big guys wearing motorcycle leathers, and rough looking women wearing pretty much the same. There was a bar on the left and a pool table in the center of the room. The band was located at the far end with a little dance floor before it. Booths ringed the place and tables were scattered about.

It didn't take long before the music stopped and everyone was silent, looking at the newcomers.

A man at the pool table, with his back to the door, was about to take a shot when everything went quiet. It took a few beats, but he noticed and turned to see what was going on.

"Hey," he laughed, "what have we got here? Tinker Bell and his friend Fairy?" Five other men surrounding the table snickered along with him.

John looked at Greyhawk. "You think he's referring to us?"

Star Chores: Infiltration

“That’s far enough, Matt. Hold our position.” Sissy commmanded cooly. The deck was bathed in red light, and the Bird of Prey continued to fill the view screen.

“Why are we staying here?” Teresa asked.

“We’re cloaked, remember. That Bird has our general position because of our transmission, but it can not see us to target us.”

“I wonder where his wingman is,” Matt mused.

“Oh he’s around. Cloaked most likely. Just waiting for us to fire on the one we can see.” Sissy thought. “Glenn, ready the photon torpedoes and get a targeting solution on that Bird. I want to be able to take it out if we have to.”

“Aye, Captain. I have a solution. Locking it into the fire control. Captain, weapons are ready.”

Cutter silently moved onto the bridge and raised a weapon at the back of Sissy’s head.

Both Joanie and Cassandra turned.

“Captain!” Joanie called as she leaped to block the Captain.

Cutter fired.

Star Chores: Red Shoes

"Got one," John announced cheerily as they entered the bridge with Cutter in tow. Sissy had tilted back the command chair and had her feet up on a makeshift foot stool. A large cool drink was precariously balanced on her protruding tummy.

"I think the wee lass hae gotten bigger jus' in the time we hae been gone," Greyhawk said to John.

Sissy turned her head to the newcomer without moving the rest of her body.

"You know how to get us there?" she asked bluntly.

"Well, we was discussin' my, uh, compensation, you know, for my help ..."

Cassandra poked him with her gun. "Yeah, sure," he said quickly. "No problem."

"Oh, good," Sissy said and turned back, closing her eyes in exhaustion. "I can't wait ..." Then she lifted her hand and waved them off, eyes still shut. "Go plan something. I'll be here if you need me."

Star Chores: Smuggler's notch

"Wow, it's always amazed me how those Starfleet uniforms show all the curves," John said appreciatively, as he came aboard the ship that Cassandra had arranged for the conspirators to use, "and Captain, you seem to have a few more than I remember." It had been a week since they had decided on their covert activity, and in her accelerated pregnancy, that meant that Sissy had completed her first trimester. She was definitely "showing".

"Oh, hey there, John," she answered, looking down, "at least I can still see my feet." She wiggled her toes for confirmation.

"C'mon, you're the last to arrive. We're briefing in here." Sissy led him to a conference room. Everyone else was already seated.

"Okay, Cassandra," Sissy started, "You ready?" She sat gratefully. Her feet were already starting to hurt. Not to mention her back.

Cassandra stood.

"As you know, this ship is officially called The Excalibur. It is a Falcon Class starcruiser with a few modifications." She let a little smile slip on to her face. "First, we are set up as a classic runner rig, the type used by smugglers and pirates. As a result, we have a few false panels here and there and some extra capacity warp engines. Of course these stowage areas are a bit higher tech than what you would typically see in a runner craft, but who's gonna notice?

  "Also, we can squawk the identification codes of any port of origin we desire. This in itself is not much more than a runner could do, but we have the advantage of being verified as authentic if anyone chooses to look under the surface. That's a little different. We also are fully armed with photon torpedoes and phasors, and small arms of every description are stored in the security room.

"The plan is that we will infiltrate a pirate hangout on the space station Zedulon 4, which is only a single sector from our destination, and attempt to discover the whereabouts of the hidden colony. We figure that they have to be getting supplies from somewhere, and covert channels are a likely source. Questions?"

Star Chores: Graceland

"Captain, is that really you?"

They gathered around Sissy, each with a weapon displayed and on watch for trouble. Cassandra remained aloof and very much on guard.

"Yes, it's me." Sissy said calmly. The glow on her face belied her situation.

"Well, are you OK, did they hurt you?" Jeff asked anxiously.

"No, no, I'm fine. They have been very nice, actually." She smiled at their agitation.

"Nice!" Cathy exclaimed, "Sissy, you've been abducted, for God's sake!"

The Captain turned her smile on Cathy. "Well, that's not entirely correct. The fact is, you have been abducted as well."

"What!" Cathy pushed her phasor in front of her and scanned for danger. Jeff, Joanie and Cassandra did the same. Unconsciously, they tightened their circle and went back to back.

Sissy chuckled. "Calm down; there is no danger here. And I may have exaggerated our situation somewhat. We haven't been abducted so much as recruited."

Cathy wasn't buying it. "Recruited, huh." No one approached from any direction, so they relaxed their posture somewhat, though Cassandra kept a watchful eye. "Well, if it is against our will, then I don't care what you call it, we're prisoners."

The Captain shook her head. "First, you decided of your own free will to come here. And second, we are free to leave."

"Well, let's go then," Joanie promptly said. "This is a weird place and it gives me the creeps."

"Fine," Sissy said, "but first I want you to talk to Elvis. After that, we can leave."