Tall Tales in New Texas

Posted on Sat Dec 1st, 2018 @ 3:16am by Commander Rita Paris & Hera & Baroness 2nd Class Schwein von Alcott
Edited on on Sun Dec 2nd, 2018 @ 11:31pm

Mission: Escaped Pantheons
Location: New Texas system, Planet Houston, near the Galactic Core
Timeline: 2395

Stepping out to squint in the sun, Rita Paris wished she had the visor from the EVA suit. Unzipping the neckline of her uniform halfway down the bustline, she fished out her insta-hanky, which she kept tucked into her bra for just such emergencies. The dust out here was no joke, and the Baroness had a point- time for prairie masks. Unflapping the chicklet, it unfolded into a full sized white linen handkerchief. As she folded it to prepare a dust mask, she asked her duo of hosts, "So where's some local color? We've never been to New Texas before."

The sheriff pointed out the nearest tavern. "That there's the Lonesome Star Tavern. Most people will go there for a drink. Across the street from it is the Vega Roadhouse. That's one of the places people go for a smoke. Both have been hotbeds of stories lately."

Brother Bear Paw and Doctor Clint Hussein, law and order. Dun Dun! Cocking her head, a quizzical expression settled on the face of the comely commander. "You use coins as local currency?"

The Sheriff hooked his thumbs in his pants as he replied. "Of course. The Federation may see no need for money, but we still need something to keep track of trade locally so the casino made a bunch of coins for us with their token machinery."

"May I see one? Or as many as you'll show me?" Rita pulled out her modern slimline tricorder. After all, they were exploring. And she needed the coin for the decision. But might as well get in some sociobiology studies while they were here.

Brother Bear Paw nodded and pulled out a handful of Atomic Ranger coins. "We have paper money as well, but we use these as the basis for our trade system. Each one has an element we can't replicate so we know no one is counterfeiting."

Scanning the samples, Rita reached out, silently asking permission to touch the, She flipped them over, scanning the obverse facings with an explorer's fascination. "Very neat! May I borrow one for a moment?"

Brother Bear Paw nodded, offering the handful of coinage. "Help yourself, young lady."

Choosing a larger grey piece, with the profile of a human flying through the sky with a jetpack, a fin on his head inside a bubble helmet, a science fiction raygun in his hand on one side, and a single nacelled star cruiser flying through a lone star. "Heads and tails. Perfect!"

Flipping the coin aloft in a deft motion, Paris watched it go up then snatched it out of the air as it overcame it's apogee and tumbled back to earth. Slapping it on the back of her hand, the earth girl called it.

"Heads, the Lonesome Star Tavern. Tails, the Vega Roadhouse," Rita called it, then uncovered the coin on the back of her hand. The flying Atomic Ranger soared majestically. "Heads! Lonesome Star Tavern it is. Still got a bottle in your pocket, Baroness?"

Brandishing a bottle of the Captain's family moonshine, Schwein grinned proudly. "Ja. I kept a bottle back just in case."

"You are a well-prepared woman. I like that about you." Holding her kerchief to her face, not tying it on, Rita stepped to the... glancing around, judging the sun and placing it against the orbit of the planet, Rita found north. Thus she was headed west, to the Lonesome Star Tavern. As a rider on a saddled giant cockroach skittered by, Rita grinned. A strange new world, a new civilization, new life.

"Say, Brother Bear Paw?" Rita asked as they moseyed through what looked like a western town that had made a baby with a lot of rounded adobe. "Is this really valuable or chump change? I'd love a souvenir, or I could trade you something for it?"

"It's enough for a meal, but you keep it. This old man has plenty in life." The old tribal replied with a warm smile.

The sheriff scoffed, but he too wore a bit of a smile. "We'll have to report it, of course, since you'll be removing it from circulation and all. That ain't no crime or anything though. We'll just have to request another be made to replace it."

"Thank you, Brother Bear Paw!" Impulsively, Rita leaned in and puckered up to planet a kiss on the old man's cheek. This night be a distant colony, but they were still humans, and no matter their orientation, nobody turned down a kiss of thanks from a pretty girl. "First round's on us."

Snaking her right hand into her unzipped uniform top, Paris tucked the lucky coin into her bra. She wasn't used to a collared uniform- her golden oldie had that deep plunge neckline, and had ridden comfortably. These new uniforms had a full collar, and zipped shut on it. It fit perfectly, of course, but she still found it... confining. Leaving it unzipped a bit seemed to give her a bit of breathing room.

Arriving at the Lonesome Star Tavern, it was like stepping back in time to some old western. The only sign that the settlers were from a modern era was the pair of replicators behind the counter and the electric panel lighting in the ceiling that glowed dimly. Even the jukebox looked like some relic of a bygone steampunk era. While the walls were mostly adobe, the furniture was all well worn wood and the bottles were all glass. It even looked as if everything was made by hand.

As the group entered they got some strange looks, but the barkeep, a tall, stocky woman, greeted them cheerfully enough. "Welcome to the Lonesome Star, strangers. I reckon you're the first visitors from way out of town I've ever had. What can I get ya?"

Striking a pose, Rita Paris flashed that million-watt smile. "Howdy! I'm Commander Rita Paris, of the Federation starship Hera. We have come from far away to bring you exotic liquor from deep space and pour a round for the bar, so that we can hear some wild stories. Whattya say, barkeep?"

"Pull up a chair and I'll be right with ya," replied the woman.

That's when an old man rose from his seat and started hobbling towards the group. "I gots some stories fer ya!. I dun met them spirits out in the desert, I did! One gave me cancer. Another cured me ah cancer. The next gave me a hill ah beans! The next took that hill ah beans and turned it to gold! The next one after that challenged me to a duel - my golden beans for a solid gold fiddle! I lost and he took mah beans... The one after that rained down locusts on mah fields and mah crops was ruined! Then the next un, mah crops was whole again but was tryin ta eat me! Then the next one burnt it all, includin mah home! I ain't got no place to live now and it's all them spirits' fault!"

Grabbing an empty but dirty glass off a nearby table, Rita handed it over to the supersoldier at her 8'oclock. "Sounds like you've had a hell of a month, friend. Baroness, howbout we buy the man a drink?"

Soon shotglasses had been lined up, moonshine poured, ignition achieved and flaming shots taken by the locals in an exciting 'strangers from outta town' sorta way. As the second round poured, Rita fetched an empty bottle. Pouring a bit into it for a reserve, she handed the rest of the jar to the barkeep. "For your lost business when they come back for more."

Having lubricated the locals with fire water- which, again, she couldn't help but chuckle at her own eurocentric tendencie- Rita addressed the bar. "So I hear the gods have come to New Texas. I'd like to hear more tales, c'mon now!"

As the locals all told their stories, word spread and soon there was a line out the door that there were not only offworlders, but that they were interested in the strange appearances of these spirits or deities, depending on who you asked. Sometimes they were helpful, sometimes they were bothersome, but more often than not, they just stopped by to offer sage or worthless advice to those that summoned them. There was one underlying commonality between all of these stories though - every single one of these people seemed to be high on something.

"I've gotten as many interviews as I could," Paris declared, snapping her tricorder shut. "While there look like there may be some patterns, I'll turn the data over to Mr, Sonak to analyze. So, we're good here- we've scouted, gotten to meet the local color. Spread some Starfleet good cheer and now we blow outta town. What do you say, Baroness?" Paris slapped the long boots of the buccaneer leaning back in a chair with her feet propped up on the table, the selfsame table Rita Paris had her well-toned and rounded rear reclining on.

"Ya, I say we mosey on out of the town, Commander," replied the Baroness, having gotten into the spirit of things with her own unique accent.

Rising from the table, Paris turned and snapped a selfie with her tricorder, with the Baroness relaxed in the chair beside and behind her. It would be her favorite photo of the two of them, and hang on the wall of her quarters, then in her home on Earth. For Rita Paris was sentimental to a fault, and her mementos were the touchstones to her memories of a life of adventure.

"I reckon so," Rita grinned at the merry marauder. "By now, Sonak has not only downloaded their entire database onto his tricorder, but he's upgraded their systems and updated their database. He may even have beamed up by now if he got bored. Vulcans can meditate for days, but their boredom threshold is quite low. Little known fact." Smiling and waving at the locals as they exited the saloon, Paris squinted as the starfaring duo stepped out into the bright afternoon sunlight. Fishing in her bra, the Starfleet siren produced her hankie with a flourish. Paris still hadn't zipped up that collar, and she was enjoying the breathing room and the access.

"Gods and extradimensional creatures and demons and spirits... I gotta say, it sounds like somebody pulled the plug out of a hole to another reality, y'know? All of some other dimension's craziness spilling into ours. Where you can summon a god just by calling for them to appear, like Hera..."

At that, Rita Paris stopped dead in her tracks, and slowly looked around. After all, if she accidentally sprung Hera from the Aesir's custody, that wouldn't do a world of good for relations with the Norse gods. But apparently her casual mention of the goddess of home and hearth hadn't triggered whatever phenomenon was at work here. Chuckling, she waved at the Baroness, who had been alert for trouble.

"It's silly. I mentioned her name and I half expected Hera to show up." The career fleeter gal squinted at the Mayor's office as they approached it. "Although I have to admit... as silly as it sounds, I kinda wished she'd been there when I turned around."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Hera stepped up in line with the other two, squinting at the sky and enjoying the fresh air. "I have to admit that this is the nicest I've felt in what feels like an eternity. I have no idea how or why I'm here, but I know it's temporary, so I'm going to enjoy it while I can."

Rita Paris froze in place, her body rigid, the color draining from her face as her eyes grew wide. "I didn't... I couldn't..."

Turning slowly, Paris saw the goddess Hera blinking pleasantry at her on the bright sunlight. "Oh no no nonono! You're, you're supposed to be in custody, with the Aesir on the Odin's breath, not here!" Paris wafted her hands toward the goddess. "Be there... don't be here, be where you're supposed to be and not creating a diplomatic incident in a jailbreak that... I just caused..."

Hera chuckled softly in her Olympian voice. "No one's blaming you and there's no jailbreak. Well... In theory... I haven't been summoned in aeons and this doesn't feel like a normal summoning, but here I am. I wonder how long I'm here for?" Taking another deep breath, Hera sucked in a lung full of dust from a passing rider and started coughing. Once she recovered, she sighed heavily. "Ah, the signs of being truly alive."

Reaching behind her, Paris snapped out her tricorder. "Baroness, could you give me some complementary scans, please? Tell me this isn't the real deal and this is more of the temporary Excalbia-style recreations, or the Q constructs or something other than I accidentally summoned Hera to New Texas?" The anxious executive was reading the tricorder readings for all she was worth, but she realized she didn't have a baseline to compare the subject to- but the Baroness did.

"Ja." Flipping up her eyepatch, the Baroness looked Hera over head to toe before making a judgment call. "She appears to be here and indeed Hera. However... Hera... Your godly powers organ... It shows signs of severe atrophy."

"Ah yes... I haven't had any use for it. Nor have I had any desire to do so. Rita Paris, did you get my reply to your letter?" Hera looked up at the sky and basked in its radiance as she enjoyed the light of the New Texas sun.

"I did... I mean, yes, I did," Paris took a second to fume at herself. Some field commander you are. Go see the sights, summon the prisoner you dropped off five days ago accidentally... was it accidental? Was this really something you were trying just to see if it would work, because you really want her around? Whatever you were thinking, you know what you have to do now.

"I heard they wiped all the movies and books. That's kind of unduly cruel and unusual punishment," Rita commented, favoring the goddess with a half-hearted smile before tapping her comm badge perched upon the sea of crimson that covered her left breast.

"Commander Paris to the Hera," Rita sighed, then sucked in a lungful of breath. "Connect me with Captain Telvan, and tell her we have a little problem..."