Hitchin' A Ride

Posted on Tue Jun 25th, 2019 @ 9:43am by Ensign Briaar Gavarus & Ensign Fiona O'Dell

Mission: Fractured Fairy Tales
Location: Somewhere between there and here
Timeline: 2396

Continued from 'Seraglio Of The Stars'.

The snoring of Briaar Gavarus didn't bother her in the least. It was deafening, yet to Fiona O'Dell, it was comforting.

The very small person had a habit of minimizing her profile when asleep, as she found security in it. She usually slept curled up in the fetal position, pressed against the headboard or the bulkhead. Both, if she could manage it- Starfleet regulations allowed for her rack to be pushed into the corner, and that's where she slept on a nightly basis. Having fallen asleep on more than one occasion with her drinking partner Gavarus, O'Dell had taken to curling up next to the great mass of her 2-meter tall friend, in a manner not unlike that of a small ginger cat. Which had now become her default, save in the current circumstance.

Stuck in a 1 man lifepod with limited room and space, the titantic Tellarite was sprawled on her back, somewhat folded at both ends because the pod interior wasn't large enough to allow her to stretch out. Curled up tightly in a fetal position atop her belly was her offensive stereotype partner in trouble.

Eventually, the snoring had reached its crescendo with a massive snort that actually roused Briaar Gavarus from her uncomfortable, alcohol-induced slumber. "Oh, for @#$&'s sake, it wasn't a goddamn dream. We're still in this frickin' pod."

Muttering, Gavarus tried to pull a sash of the exceedingly sheer fabric of the harem girl outfit she was still wearing, instinctively trying to cover herself. Her arms and legs were stiff and protesting from the odd angles she had fallen asleep in, as she tried to scooch up without disturbing the oddly comfortable looking Fiona O'Dell. "Ugh... AND we're still dressed like space hookers too."

Needing to move to get up as her neck was starting to cramp, Briaar lightly nudged Fiona. "Fee. I need you to wake up. I gotta get out of this damn corner."

The fact that the snoring had stopped was what roused her more than anything else. The midget Mariposian was soothed and reassured by the snoring, because that meant that her rather larger friend was close by, and the vibrations actually calmed her. Growing up in a house of 8 men, snoring was de riguer, and hearing it actually comforted O'Dell as it reminded her of her childhood and made her feel safe with larger defenders in earshot. Stretching her arms and legs out from their curled sleeping position, O'Dell slid off Gavarus to land butt-first on the deck.

"Ohhhhh right. 'Go have fun on shore leave' she says. 'Git oota the workshop' she says. I swear, we git back I am nivvir taking another vacation unless I can do it in the Thunderchicken." O'Dell groused. "Alreet, I got ta go, so lemme go piss in the replicator afore ye flood the damn thing."

"What, you're not having fun being kidnapped into Space Whoredom and crammed into this escape pod with me? This is like a luxury frickin' cruise." Gavarus grumbled sarcastically as she struggled to sit up in the cramped pod. "I can't believe we're frickin' still adrift."

Scootching over to what could barely be called a control panel while O'Dell peed, Gavarus looked at the console. "Looks like we've been drifting without propulsion for five and a half hours. Subspace beacon still works not but without an active comm system, our best bet is a goddamn passing freighter. This succcckkkks."

"Could be worse. We've still got as replicator unit, so as long as we got battery power we won't starve ta death nor be basted in our own juices," O'Dell chimed in, trying to look on the bright side. "O'course, wi' nae entertainment tis the longest most boring trip ever. Ach, and no liquor, though at least I still got synthehol, yay me." Finishing filling the reclamator, O'Dell recycled the matter, then replicated herself a beer. "Cheers!"

"Ugh... I guess... 'yay' for science pee beer." The irritable engineer complained as she swapped places with the pint-sized pilot to take her turn emptying the remains of the wine they killed off a few hours ago into the matter reclamator.

"I don't know where that slug ass harem master came from, but it's making me feel about as useless as tits on a bull out here. The inside of the panels on this frickin' make as much sense as the insides of that camera drone we took apart." Letting out a minor deluge, Gavarus moaned slightly as she talked.

"I mean, I'm a Starfleet engineer, but nothing in this pod's technology makes a bit of damn sense to me. I'm officially frickin' useless. When Commander sh'Zoarhi finds out I couldn't even get a frickin' escape pod working again, I'm getting busted back to waste maintenance."

"Wahhhhl, I won't tell her if ye won't. Ye know, see-through not-clothes notwithstandin' and the bein' kidnapped and noow stuck in the middle a'nowhere and all, at least we still got each other, aye? Bad times shared make for stupid bar stories later, aye? And I dinna know aboot you but if this was me alone I'd be bloody terrified." Fiona took a long draught off her O'Doull's synthehol beer, then handed the bottle to Gavarus.

Still squatted on the reclimator, Gavarus had zero shame around her best friend and took a long swig of the replicated beer, which wasn't alcoholic, but still hit the spot. "Soooooo... Since nothing is working right, do YOU have any idea where we are based on... I don't know... the stars or some shit?"

"When Ah checked before we left, I punched up the coordinates and it wasnae that big a deal. Was g'win ta be an 8 hour trip, so nae worries, right? So the nav computer isn't a nav computer at all, tis joost a button that says 'on course'. The stars oot there... " O'Dell peered around the inky black void of space looking for familiar star clusters she could use for landmarks, and found none.

"Whativvir ye do, dinna tell the Lieutenant, but I dinna ken the foggiest a'where we are," O'Dell admitted. "Seriously, I identify a star or two here or there but they're nae where they are supposed ta be. I'd blame it on bein drunk, but I'm nae drunk agin yet. So I dinna understand it neither. I guess we've nae choice but to wait it oot?"

"Then we die out here keeping each other's inept ass secrets. I dunno... maybe they made this escape pod to fail. Like... So the space hookers couldn't really escape. So they just end up drifting. And by they I mean frickin' we." Finished up, Gavarus cleaned up as much as the cramped pod would allow. Replicating herself a drink of her own, she handed O'Dell back her bottle as she scootched next to her pint-sized pal.

"So... waiting." The anxious engineer took a swig of her synthoholic beer and just stared out the pods window. "What do you want to do?"

"Charades?"

"Stupid."

"Substitute one word in a famous film wi' the word penis?"

"Howzat?"

"Like, 'Star Wars Episode 4: A New Penis' for instance."

"Fee, that's the stupidest thing I've ever... ooh... 'Penis: Impossible".

Three hours later, a number of trips to the replicator in which O'Dell had fabricated enough toilet paper to make herself a toilet paper mummy in lieu of clothing, they were running out of movie titles. "Well, eight hours or so was the travel time, so we're aboot there... which should be the resort we started at, where we parked a shuttle we signed out and will be responsible for. But, ah... none a' these constellations are familiar. I've not the slightest clue where the fook we are, Gavarus me old chum. We be very, verrry lost."

Looking out the window, Gavarus thunked her head against the glass. "Oh, for @#$%'s sake. I can't believe we're gonna die in hooker clothes in a pod in the middle of..."

Pausing, Gavarus looked out and saw a blinking red light in the distance, creeping closer. "Uh... Fee. What the hell is that? Is... is that a SHIP!?"

"Yah, it's a shitty little J class freighter... that's an Earth design, but one they ain't made fer nigh two hundred years. That's a very old piece a shit from me own home planet out there," O'Dell tapped the viewport, nodding as she demonstrated a surprising aptitude for starship identification. "That turd in the water right there could crew maybe a dozen in the cab, the rest was all cargo containers haulin' at a max speed a' warp 1.5, and that's on the old Cochran scale, aboot warp 1.45 give or take today."

"Well, we got a beacon and no comms, so Ah guess we're g'win ta see if they see us, if they give a shite and if they're friendly. Cuz we're joost... peas in a pod in space reet noow." Gesturing to her paper mummy outfit and Gavarus's slowly shrinking wardrobe of gauzy silks, O'Dell sighed. "Ain't we the intergalactic heroes, aye?"

"I'll settle for LIVING intergalactic screw ups at this point. Hmm... scooch over. Let me see the controls for a sec, Fee" Gavarus nudged in for a second, looking over the largely useless console. "Okay. Propulsion is dead. Comms are dead. But... there's a pressurized exterior panel on the starboard side. Just a junction system, but it contains a gel coolant system that requires oxygen to stay liquid in space. There's a diagnostic control panel. It doesn't do MUCH, but if I can blow the panel, the escaping gas might push us over closer to their flight path. Make us impossible to avoid. What do you think?"

"I think they heard our beacon and they're comin' ta pick us oop. They're on an intercept course, less I miss me guess," O'Dell pointed out as the freighter grew closer. "But twas a good idea. Hoof, that is not a well-maintained starship right there..."

As the freighter pulled alongside them, Gavarus and O'Dell got a very good look at the freighter in question, and it did indeed look old, abused and in less than stellar shape. As the picayune pilot had pointed out, the ship very much looked its age. But it had running lights and self-propulsion, which was one better than they had, and the magnetic grapplers were maneuvering the escape pod into place.

"Here's hopin' for friendlies... should you go first?" O'Dell asked.

Looking down with a sarcastic grin, Gavarus chuckled. "Yeah. And if they give me trouble I can through you at them." Then the crotchety pig-woman gave it a second thought. "Maybe... I go ahead, but you do the talking so... they don't... ya' know... automatically throw us back into space as soon as I say something stupid."

"Oh aye, that's a grand plan. Cuz I'm well known fer me wits and wiles an' diplomatic discourses," O'Dell cracked as the hatches sealed with a THUMP, rattling them both. As the airlock cycled shipside, it was a clear invitation. The button labeled 'OPEN AIRLOCK' was green, so looking up at her porcine partner, the tiny test pilot gave a thumbs-up, then opened the hatch.

"Uh... hello? We sure are... glad you saw us. We've been stuck out here for a little... uh..." Leaning in through the open hatch, the other ship was dark, dirty and the pair was hit by a powerfully pungent stench that all but burned the hairs on the inside of Gavarus' porcine snout. "Holy @#$%ing SHIT, what the @#$% is that smell?"

As the underdressed pair paused to catch their breath, the hatch behind them slammed shut quickly, trapping them on the rancid ship. "Sweet evil hell, Fee. It smells like the inside of an EVA suit worn for two weeks in a goddamn sauna with no waste reclamation in here." Gavarus whispered.

"Halloo?" O'Dell called out, then the transport ship's inhabitant made himself known. From down the corridor, before they saw him they heard a friendly "Howdy!"

When their host stepped into view, he was a humanoid, that part was easy. Barefoot and wearing a stained pair of denim overalls that looked like they likely hadn't seen the inside of a reclamator in a week, with a wifebeater t-shirt on underneath, he was wearing a cap with a bill that projected forward, the forehead covering section emblazoned with the logo for a hydraulics parts manufacturer. A bushy mullet of brown curls sprayed out at odd angles from beneath said cap, and as he grinned at them to reveal numerous missing teeth, his left eye began to wander.

Looking up at Gavarus then down to O'Dell as he slid his hands into his pockets, the space trucker smiled. "Uh, you and yer daughter kinda stranded out here, uh, ma'am?" It was right at that moment that the wandering eye seemed to notice the tall Tellarite's exposed nipples, which he looked up, looked guilty, then went for more eye contact.

"My WHAT now?" Gavarus stood up ramrod straight, trying to figure out some way to cover herself without looking like she was covering herself. And she certainly didn't want to ask if there was anything to wear on the ship due to the obvious filth. But in their current situation, the pair of unintentional explorers couldn't afford to be picky. "No, she's not my... We're not even the same... seriously."

"Sorry... yes. We are definitely stranded and could use a lift, so thank you for stopping." The tall Tellarite tried to force a smile as she spoke. "We're trying to get back to... Fee... where the hell were we, again?"

"Jest point me at yer nav computer and I kin calculate the distance-" Fiona began, but was cut off by a goofy laugh from the rustic country bumpkin flying the antique transport vessel.

"Thuh automatic response tuh y'all's distress beacon altered our course, but it's already laid in and on rails, little girl. We're headed for the Kingsland space truckstop and BBQ pit! I got a load change there, an' I'll finally be rid'a this load 'a manure!"

"Make yerselves comfy, I'll warn ya when we're comin outta warp, cuz yer gonna wanna hold on. ETA should be roundabout 13 minutes or so. Yuh kin rummage up some clothes if'n yuh want."

Cringing slightly at the thought of putting anything on her body that was on the ship, Gavarus thought about that versus the idea of being at a literal space truck stop dressed in the almost nothing she had been wearing. "Uhhh... yeah... Okay, thanks. We will, Captain?"

"They's some lockers over yonner, some clothes been left behind by other crew- might be some to fit ya. I'll be in the cab, gettin ready ta dock." With that, the redneck of the space trucking lanes tipped his cap and headed forward, leaving the duo to begin rooting through the lockers. The little ensign managed to come up with a child's pair of overalls that fit like capris pants on her, but were better than what she was wearing. As for the enormous engineer, she found a foil unfoldable survival suit that was too small to close on her rather rounded figure, but still offered her more coverage than her veils.

"S'times like this that I'm glad neither of us is a photography buff. This is nae the part'a me vacation I want to be rememberin, or have hangin on me wall later. At least I'll blend in ta look like one of the local idiots. How's yuir tinfoil wedgie?" O'Dell asked as she used some of her former gauzey outfit to tie her mane of curls into rear mounted pigtails.

With the front only closing enough to cover her nipples, most of her upper belly and chest we're still pressing out of the one-piece foil suit. Trying to adjust it, she was glad that at lest it didn't tear like actual foil and at least seemed sturdy. "This is, by FAR the single most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn. It frickin' crinkles when I move and I feel like a goddamn baked potato. I seriously hope the truck stop has real booze at it because... shiiiittttt."

Stopping in her tracks, Gavarus slapped her forehead and groaned. "Our credits are all back at the frickin' bar! We're stranded at this guy's mercy as I HIGHLY doubt there will be any Starfleet presence where we're going."

"Y'all hang on, we're a'comin outta warp!" came the call from the cab, and suddenly the entire freighter lurched as she dropped back into sublight, sending the two of them sprawling. Tapping the deck like a wrestler crying uncle, O'Dell was trapped underneath Gavarus when they landed.

"Son of a... Lovely. No inertial frickin' dampeners?" Gavarus grumbled from the deck as she struggled to get off of O'Dell and back to her feet. "Eeewww! The deck is sticky! Why is the deck sticky?!?"

“AIR!” O’Dell squeaked as she worked to pry herself off the sticky deck and gasp in a lungful of oxygen. “Ah sweet jaysis I saw me whole life flash before me eyes there, and it was… short.” Scrambling up to peer out a porthole, O'Dell’s eyes widened. “That dinna look like any space truckstop I ever seen…”

Looking over O'Dell's head out the porthole, Gavarus gulped. "What the effin' @#$&!. I already miss the space harem. Where the hell are we?"

Turning back around, Gavarus stomped her way to the front cabin only to find it locked off. Thumping on the door, the irritable Tellarite was now just angry. "Hey, Captain B.O., What's the deal? That doesn't look like a truckstop or a space station?! Open the @#$& up!"

The rumble and clank of a hard docking was heard and felt throughout the freighter, and as they looked out the porthole, O’Dell and Gavarus could see a large rambling country house which had a sign out front advertising food/gas/smokes/water. There were pumps and maintenance equipment like a standard spaceyard, as well as a number of rusted out or abandoned older freighters and spacegoing vehicles. As the hatch opened between the cab and the rest of the freighter, the country captain emerged, grinning broadly. “Y’all should be able to use the comms here to arrange a pick-up to where yer goin’, and get yerself some deeelicious BBQ in the process!”

The speech of the country bumpkin spacer might have been more reassuring had he not been accompanied by banjo music from the cabin.

"Okay, this is where we're gonna @#$%'ing DIE, Fee. I have 2345ing SEEN this holovid. They're going tie me to a @#$%ing TREE to do butt stuff to me and then I am being barbequed. I am already mother@#$%ing DRESSED for it!" Gavarus was gesturing to her ridiculous foil onsie, and was starting to stress out. And stress, for the porcine engineer, meant a litany of sarcasm, defensive jokes, and f-bombs.

"Okay, this is where we're gonna @#$%'ing DIE, Fee. I have @#$%ing SEEN this holovid. They're going tie me to a @#$%ing TREE to do butt stuff to me and then I am being barbequed. I am already mother@#$%ing DRESSED for it!" Gavarus was gesturing to her ridiculous foil onsie, and was starting to stress out. And stress, for the porcine engineer, meant a litany of sarcasm, defensive jokes, and f-bombs.

“Ach, ye big ninny! Yuir joost bein… “O’Dell began to admonish when she saw the pig in a chef’s hat, and realized that pork was definitely on the menu. “Well, all we got ta do is find us a comm, then get a message to the ship and they’ll come pick us oop long afore ye’ve had a chance to git crispy! Besides, nobody wants to eat me- I’m too small and skinny to be worth the effort, and I’ll protect ye!”

But Gavarus wasn't calming down any. "They are gonna eat ME and use your bones to pick me out of their teeth!" Then she thought of the Captain of the freighter and his gap-filled grin, "Tooth. They probably all share the one tooth."

“Then what do ye want ta do, Briaar? We kin hide in here til we’re nivvir rescued or taker a chance on creepy murder hobo space truck stop of horror. We’ve got to do something, so if nae oot there, then what’s yuir plan, aye? Dazzle me wi’ yuir brilliance and explain to me our vast number of options here!” It was clear from the deepening brogue that O’Dell was also freaking out and clearly didn’t know what to do either.

“Wahl, y’know, ladies…” started the hillbilly space trucker, to whit both turned in unison and shouted, "NOBODY ASKED YOU!”

In spite of her nerves and complete lack of anything resembling an idea, Gavarus stepped slightly forward putting her much larger frame between the trucker and the diminutive but hot-tempered O'Dell. The station might have looked like a nightmarish mix of an abandoned truck stop and a junkyard where their bones were likely to be stored, but there were other vehicles out there and very likely, a comm system like O'Dell suggested. So their best bet was to get off the ship they were on. Or at least that was what the panicking porcine was thinking and with the trucker standing right there, she couldn't really confirm with Fiona.

"Uh... sorry 'bout that. We're both just... uh... right famished from being stuck in that there pod forever." In a ridiculous display, the two-meter pig woman batted her eyelashes and did her best impression of a damsel in distress.

The grimy goofball suddenly became bashful as her feminine wiles worked on him. “Well gawrsh, bein’ stuck in that tiny tin can floatin out there all by yer lonesome wonderin’ if you and yer little girl were ever gonna get picked up, it’s no wonder y’all are a little on edge. You should come inside and see about getting you some good stick to yer ribs food in ya!” The idiot may have smelled and been homely enough o start making prospects back on the Hera look good, but at least he seemed to have a good heart.

“You lahk head cheese? M’brother makes it real good!” the space trucker espoused enthusiastically.

Hesitantly following his lead as he walked the two women out of the freighter, Gavarus' face scrunched up at the sound. "Head Cheese? What the fuuu... uh... Why, I've never had it before. Uh. What is it?"

Please don't be made with actual heads! Please don't be made with actual heads! The anxious engineer thought to herself while making a disgusted face down at O'Dell.

“See they make headcheese. They...they take the pig head... and they boil it. Except for the tongue... and they scrape all the flesh away from the bone. They use everything. They don't throw nothing away. They... they use the jaws, the muscles, and the eyes, and the ligaments and everything!” He might have continued, but that was when O’Dell threw up her beer on the ground.

“Aw, looks lahk yer lil’ one is sickly. No worries, we’ll git some food in her an’ fix her raht up!” the oblivious space hillbilly promised.

"Oh, for @#$&'s sake! She's not my kid! Gavarus snapped as she bent down to comfort O'Dell.

"We're about the same age and there's something else we don't have in common! A BIG ASS PIG HEAD!!"

"She don't? I jes' thought she were runty. Don't matter none, y'all are here now. Yew wanna run inside or run fer the hills what has eyes? Run through the junkyard maze or the corn maze or that shack out by the edge of the bubble next to that old freighter what looks like it might just run. It's yer choice, n' we'uns don't care none. It ain't about the kill... it the thrill 'a the chase. So gwan, git! Run, lil piggie! Run or hide, take yer pick. Cuz we're comin ta git yew!"

Staring down at O'Dell, then back at the redneck trucker, then back to O'Dell, Gavarus' jaw hung open for a moment. Then, with a cartoonishly shrill scream, the towering Tellarite grabbed O'Dell by the middle, swinging her wildly kicking feet at the trucker knocking him back to the bulkhead.

Tucking Fiona under her arm like a screaming, ginger football, Gavarus ran off the ship toward the house. "EEEIIIIAAAGHHHHH!!!!!"

"AW SWEET JAYSIS WE ARE GONNA DIE HERE!" O'Dell screamed as she watched forms and shapes detatch themselves from the ruined junker spacecraft that comprised the junkyard, most of them old freighters or escape pods. "Run, aw sweet mother macree, run Gavarus! That one's got a fork!!"

Running at a frantic pace, Gavarus made yet way to the main structure, passing through the main doors into what appeared to be an antiquated farm house. Putting O'Dell down, the panicking Porcine Engineer turned to examine the external door controls as she could hear the trucker clamoring towards them from outside. "Okay... What did they wire this shit with, Duct tape? Where's the locking..."

Frustrated with the seemingly incomprehensible electronics, she stepped back. "Oh, @#$& this bullshit!" Lifting up her long leg, she planted her hard hoof into the panel, shorting it out and locking the door mechanism just in time as she heard the trucker banging on the exterior.

"Y'ALL GONNA' SQUEAL FER US, LITTLE PIGGIES!" He shouted from outside.

Turning, Gavarus pressed back against the door, taking a moment to breathe as the pair looked down a long, dimly lit corridor of inexplicably wooden farm doors.

"One a'these must lead to that freighter parked ootside, right? So we joost-" Fiona whipped open a door only to see, inexplicably, a calm lake under the moonlight, as on the dock a dirty figure in overalls turned. The large knife he was carrying dripped blood, and his face was obscured by some sort of dirty and worn sporting equipment. Slamming the door, O'Dell plastered her back to it. "Wrong door..."

"The hell?" Gavarus exclaimed as she rushed to the other side of the corridor to open the next door. As she opened it, there was a slight blast of cold air as the pair saw a grimy cooler with filthy meat hooks descending from the ceiling. At the other end of the room was a large metal door that violently slid open with a sickening slam. On the other side was a massive humanoid figure with a blood soaked apron, and a mask that appeared to be made of someone else's face. In his hands was a large chainsaw that he began pulling the cord on as it let out a rumbling growl.

Pulling the door shut, Gavarus let out the highest pitched squeal of a scream O'Dell had ever heard. "EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! What the effin' @#$&, Fee?! Where the hell ARE we?!"

“Apparently it’s the truckstop of the damned. I bin a good girl, I dinna deserve ta go ta hell!” O’Dell squeaked as she peeked into another door, saw what appeared to be a peaceful cabin in the woods lit by moonlight, whereupon she promptly slammed the door. “Nae even takin any chances. C’mon, one a’ these doors has to lead to that freighter docked outside!”

"What are these? Dimensional doorways? This is crazy!" Gavarus yelled as they made their way down the corridor, passing one portal to horror after another.

One, a room full of dangling chains with a pale skilled man with nails driven in his forehead inviting them in. Another, some kind of subterranean waste management tunnel with a single floating red balloon. Each more unnerving than the last until finally they found the door to the exterior freighter.

“Christ on a crutch, that last one was wearing a pig face mask WITH a bluiddy chainsaw! I am so vey over this idiot horror show!” Fiona’s nerves were just as shot at Gavarus, and as the engineer tried to get the airlock hatch to open onto the freighter, Fiona was watching her back, a broom she’d picked up along the way brandished like a two-handed sword before her.

“Git the damn door open, Briaar! I don’t want ta die here in this hellhole because you canna override a bluiddy airlock!” Fiona whined, because as frightened as she was, her voice was rapidly approaching the range that only dogs could hear.

"It's not my FAULT!" Gavarus shrieked as she fumbled with the control panel. "The interfaces here are worse than the ones on the pod and that goddamn harem ship! Nothing makes any sense!" Looking at the wiring of the panel, it seemed to be almost completely random. Almost what someone with no concept of engineering would think the innards of a door panel should look like. Frustrated, Gavarus simply yanked on the wires as the door miraculously opened with a creak.

Practically tripping over each other, the unlikely pair stumbled onto each other to get inside. As they did, gavarus slammed the door controls and the hatch slammed shut behind them. "Fee! Get to the cockpit and see if this shithole piece of space @#$%ery will take off. I'm on the engine!"

As O'Dell ran to the front, Gavarus pried open the hatch for the access panel for the engine and yelled forward. "This @#$%er has POWER, FEE! GO!GO!GO!GO!"

“What the absolute fook…?” O’Dell had scampered to the cockpit, and was trying to familiarize herself with the flight systems. It appeared to be far too basic for her to actually pilot the starship in the manner it seemed to lend itself too, but fear and adrenaline overrode her usual piloting caution and she flipped a few switches and broke seal with the airlock. Triggering maneuvering thrusters, she got them clear of the starbase of horror, and once they were clear, she punched in their coordinates for the resort, which she still recalled despite their binge drinking.

Grabbling the throttle level on the center console, O’Dell used both hands to drag it toward her until the stars smeared and warped, and she breathed a sigh of relief, trying to get her tiny heart to stop beating like a freshly shorn sheep’s knees. “We’re movin… I got us movin… we’re on our way… aw holy mary muthera god…”

In the back, Gavarus was fumbling around frantically, tossing crates aside the clanged against the pipe-covered bulkheads. "Oh, praise the mother@#$&ing GODS! Or the space- truckstop Satan! Who the @#$& EVER! There's a replicator, Fee!"

And after pushing a few buttons, the machine sparked to life and produced two bottles of beer. "Fee! We're set! Working replicator with actual, not synthoholic frickin' beer!"

"Ohhh me love, me daaaarlin!" Fiona ran toward Gavarus only to clutch and hug the beer like a beloved lost child or a pet. "I've missed ye so, ma wee bonny broown bottle'a stout! Nivvir leave me agin, aye?" With that, the pint-sized panic popped the top on her bottle of beer and took a long swig.

"So, ship's some sorta ancient joonk that I canna even be sure I punched the coordinates inta proper. Boot it's in warp, and we're movin, soo... here's ta us!" O'Dell burped, then held up her beer for a toast with her tall temperamental teammate.

Flopping down to sit on the deck, Briaar clinked her beer up against Fiona's. "I'll frickin' drink to that. At least we're away from that horror show. Seriously, what the hell else can go wrong on this goddamn 'vacation'?"

As she took a long swig of her beer and sighed, a thick, viscous clear fluid dripped down from the myriad of piped overhead and plopped down on the bottom of the tall Tellarite's beer bottle. As it did, the pair immediately stopped drinking and slowly arced their heads upwards.

Above them, intertwined in the pipes, was a coiling mass of shiny black ridges and points. Parts that, at first glance, appeared to be nothing more than an extension of the calamity of pipework began to move and undulate above them. Directly above them, a slick, blackened dome began to arc down towards them. At the front of the long head was a row of sharp, glistening teeth that seemed to be made of steel that slowly opened with a sickening hiss as more of the thick drool ell down towards the pair of terrified Starfleet officers.

"AAAAAAAGH!!!!" they both screamed in unison as they scrambled to make a beeline for the cockpit.

"M'nivvir leavin the bluiddy ship agin! Oh sweet saint patrick, what the everlovin fook!" Fiona got to the cockpit first and looked around in a panic for the hatch controls to seal it off from the rest of the ship as she waited for Gavarus to catch up.

Meanwhile, the mutually panicking Porcine was trying to scramble to her feet, all the while continuing to slam back down against the metal of the deck plate. As she incrementally got closer to the cockpit, the bizarre creature lowered itself slowly to the deck behind them. It's glistening coils of almost bio-mechanical limbs curling forward as it hissed

"IT'S GONNA FRICKIN' EAT MY FAT ASS!!! EEEEEEKKKKK!!! Gavarus screamed as she finally made it to her feet and began running like a freight train towards Fiona, with the creature close behind.

"CLOSEITCLOSEITCLOSEITCLOSEIT!! Gavarus shriked as she fell through the doorway to the cockpit, slamming against the back of the pilots seat as O'Dell hit the hatch button hard. With a loud, metallic thunk, the creature slammed into the hatch as it slid shut just in time.

"Nyyyyeaaaahhhhh fook this! Bollocks to the bluiddy lot of ye, má ithis, nar chacair!" as she told the xenomorph pounding on the door what she really thought of it, O'Dell scanned the control pad until she found the cargo bay door control. Having already told the creature to never shit again in old Celtic, she followed it up to tell it to go to hell as she slammed the buttom with an open palm. "Go hifreann leat!"

As the cargo bay doors opened, the air quickly rushed out, and after a few seconds the pounding turned into a clawing, then even that stopped, and all that was heard was bumps of what cargo was left bouncing around in the depressurized cargo space.

"YEAH! That's frickin' right! Have a nice walk in a vacuum, you goddamn... whatever the hell you are!" Gavarus poked one if her thick fingers at the heavy metal door. Turning to look at the displays of the cockpit showed the creature vanishing into space in the ships wake on the tiny security screen. "Okay... I'm not saying anything else to jinx us, Fee."

Flopping down in the pilot's chair, Fiona pouted. "This shore leave has sucked peat bog arse. Now we canna even access the replicator n'more." Taking another sip of her beer, the pigtailed pilot hiccuped. "M'sorry Briaar. I wanted for us to have a few days fun together, not for us to be runnin' aboot screamin our heads off runnin' from cannibal hillbillies with odd ideas of how ta make cheese."

Flumping down, exhausted, in the co-pilots seat, Gavarus sighed. "It's not your frickin' fault, Fee. I vote we blame Gonadie for kicking us off the ship, and spend the next... three weeks... harboring a secret resentment about the horrifying things we're blaming her for. And what about that recipe was frickin' CHEESE?!?"

"I dunno, but if I wasn't put offa eatin' pork yet, that woulda done it." Taking another long draught off her beer, O'Dell burped. "Guess now it's joost get drunk and watch space slide by until Ah pass oot from alla the stress, or the beer."

Which was precisely when the freighter dropped out of warp, around a beautiful lush planet.

...To Be Continued...