Unnamed Porno Fanfic From Shep, Falkenhorst, and Fanboy

[consequences]

So, the truth behind the vanishing of the Squats finally comes to light.

I should be offended, as the Squats don't deserve to be mistaken for Gnomes, but this should be funny, so I'll withold judgement for now.

[Darth Fanboy]

So, the truth behind the vanishing of the Squats finally comes to light.

I should be offended, as the Squats don't deserve to be mistaken for Gnomes, but this should be funny, so I'll withold judgement for now.

IF you have ideas for revisions and such please pm me with the details. This chapter won't actually be written for a while yet but i'd like to get the UPF crew some much bloodier hardware for the eventual showdown with Darth Garden Gnome.

[consequences]

IF you have ideas for revisions and such please pm me with the details. This chapter won't actually be written for a while yet but i'd like to get the UPF crew some much bloodier hardware for the eventual showdown with Darth Garden Gnome.

Nah, you're the writer, and it isn't like you've respected the sanctity of anyone else's cherished icons(What can I say, I think the Squats got a raw deal).

The only UPF idea I've has so far that hasn't flitted from my mind is an Angelverse chapter where the entire point of the Slayer line was a ploy by the Dirty Old Man Brigade(aka the Watcher's Council) to try to break the stranglehold that the vampires had on prostitution. That, and having Fred be deranged with a tendency to anally violate her boyfirend with didlos, and Wesley being okay with that because he attended British Public schools.

It refuses to grow from that seed into anything concrete though.

[Darth Fanboy]

Nah, you're the writer, and it isn't like you've respected the sanctity of anyone else's cherished icons(What can I say, I think the Squats got a raw deal).

At least they weren't eaten by Tyranids

[Sidewinder]

If you're putting Shep, Falk, and Fanboy in the 40K universe, you might as well give Inquisitor Maladar a cameo. From what I've read, he'd go through gnomes like a .50 BMG bullet through toilet paper.

[Sidewinder]

Revised and renumbered 23JAN2007
___________
"Technobabble, babble, babble," Doctor Keiko O'Brien ordered, watching the monitor for changes in the experimental subject.

"Technobabble, babble, babble," Dr Rosalind Chao, her assistant, reported.

"Technobabble, babble, babble." Keiko watched the subject perform as predicted. "We did it! We created a biological vibrator!" she cheered as the genetically engineered banana vibrated, ready to pleasure to a woman.

Rosa faced her supervisor. "The Duchess will surely honor you with the Golden Womb for this achievement!" The gold sculpture of a woman's reproductive organs was awarded to female scientists who made important discoveries.

Keiko embraced her assistant. "You deserve the honor as well-- I couldn't have done this without you by my side."

Rosa blushed. "Doctor--" She felt Keiko's lips upon hers-- her mouth opened to admit Keiko's tongue as her hand closed upon Keiko's breast.

"Call me Keiko." The botanist reached under Rosa's skirt and felt vaginal fluids flowing down her thighs.

"Oh, Keiko--" Slam! "Gasp!"

The botanist turned to see a platoon of Cybele's Castration Clamps-- Zeon Defense Force (ZDF) Special Forces, women whose leather corsets incorporated mail armor, whose high heeled boots had electromagnetic soles to let them climb on vertical surfaces-- step through the door, scanning for ambushes and booby traps. "What's going on here?!"

"Don't move." Two Clamps' rifle-mounted tricorders scanned Keiko and Rosa. "Subject One, ID confirmed." "Subject Two, ID confirmed." The Clamps lowered their rifles and stepped aside to let the platoon leader-- identified by a crown inlaid with silver wings-- approach Keiko. "We're sorry to disturb you, Doctor O'Brien, but the sex offender Miles Edward O'Brien has escaped from prison. We're here to protect you and your research," the platoon leader explained.

"What?!" Keiko shook in fear and anger at her abusive ex-husband. "What about Molly and Kirayoshi?!"

"The Duchess has ordered the children to be brought to the Palace of the Amazons for their protection." The platoon leader put a hand on Keiko's shoulder. "In Cybele's name, we will not let them come to harm."

"Thank the gods..."

>

"Thank God!" Chief Petty Officer Miles O'Brien exclaimed, bandaging bloody fingertips-- he escaped from prison by making lock picks out of his fingernails-- as the stolen shuttle sailed away from Zeon space. "Once we get back to Deep Space 9, I'll call up my war buddies from the Cardassian War, and we'll send a battle group to fire a quantum torpedo down the throat of every goddamn dyke in the Principality of Zeon!"

A voice behind him said, "Don't... count... your eggs... before... they... hatch. We're... not... out of... the woods... yet."

Miles turned to the human-turned-dolphin in the cargo bay, a panty raider and pornographer who was captured by a ZDF garrison and used as a guinea pig for the development of biological weapons. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, Sparky! Here!" He poured wine into the dolphin's mouth.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Miles laughed. "That should put hair back on your chest!" He turned to the controls. "I wonder if I can intercept a broadcast of an old rugby or cricket game?" Miles began fiddling with the communicator. "Hey, I got something!" he exclaimed as the words "Evangelion Wars" appeared onscreen. "Looks like one of those 'Gundam' cartoons Commander Data used to watch."

"What... the... fuck?!" Sparky exclaimed, watching a mechanical dragon transformed into a giant robot. "That's... not... Evangelion... Unit... One!" He watched a tall, muscular man in a United States Army combat uniform pose in front of the robot-- the soldier spun a Colt Single Action Army (SAA) revolver as rails extended from a compartment in the robot's right forearm, guiding a revolver into its hand-- before the soldier and the robot fired at the screen. "That's not... Shinji... Ikari!" The dolphin's flippers pushed against the floor as he tried to reach the viewscreen.

Sparky, formerly known as Spanky VII, Baron of Bukkake, was partially correct. 'Neon Genesis Evangelion' was an animated series produced in the late 20th century. After the copyright expired, Sparky's ancestor, the First Baron of Bukkake, produced 'Neon Revelations Evangelion', a remake "loyal" to the original-- in the last episode, the 14-year-old "hero" used the robot's power to destroy everything in the galaxy except himself and the girl with whom he had a love-hate relationship, so no one would interfere as he raped the girl to express his "love" for her, but the girl stabbed the hero with a broken piece of glass, killing him before she succumbed to despair and committed suicide. Another man produced 'Evangelion Wars', intending to "improve on" the original-- in the last episode, the 19-year-old hero apparently sacrifices himself to save the galaxy and the woman he loved, but the woman refused to believe he was dead and swore to await his return, as the robot carried the hero to Valhalla.

The Barons of Bukkake insisted that 'Neon Revelations Evangelion' was the true 'Evangelion'-- watching 'Evangelion Wars' drove Sparky berserk. "Mother... fuckers... desecrated... the holy... anime... Neon... Revelations... Evangelion! I'll... kill... them all!"

Miles watched a giant fish transform into humanoid monster to fight the robot. "Cool." Crash! "What?! What the fuck are you doing?!" he demanded as Sparky rammed the screen, trying to erase 'Evangelion Wars' from existence.

Red lights flashed. "Warning: hull breach," the ship's computer stated. "Structural integrity field adapting to seal breach... adaptation successful, breach sealed." Crash! "Warning: navigational systems malfunction." Miles kicked Sparky's head, knocking the dolphin unconscious, but the damage was done. "Warning: warp drive offline. Emergency procedures initiated. Exiting warp. Scanning for appropriate landing sites. One found: Class D planet. All passengers please brace for impact."

"Fuck me!" Miles felt like he was locked in a microwave oven as the shuttle entered the planetary atmosphere.

>

LOVE GUNS 3: REVENGE OF THE SHIT

An 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' fanfic by Sidewinder, 2006. Based on the story by Darth Fanboy, Falkenhorst, and MKSheppard-- itself based on stories by George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry.

>

Lieutenant Junior Grade Harry S. L. Kim was a content man. He was well-paid, which meant he was well-fed, well-entertained-- battle scars proved his masculinity, attracting women the way honey attracted bees-- and well on his way of achieving his ambition of becoming captain of his own ship.

"Emergency beacon detected," the tactical officer reported.

"Red alert," Captain Ai Teppou ordered. "Security teams, be alert for boarders. Remember, Orion pirates often send out fake distress signals to lure passing ships into a trap."

'Here we go again.' Lt Kim often complained about his job as a mercenary-- Capt Ai kept sending him on suicide missions-- before his employer, Steel Angel Security Services, was hired to help "sterilize" the Borg occupation of Risa. At least he was armed and able to fight back when he went on a suicide mission. The recent invasion began when the Borg claimed they were political refugees and were allowed on the "Pleasure Planet." A Starfleet officer even let the Borg use a rapid assimilation process-- sodomizing him to pump nanoprobes into his body-- to "respect their cultural practices." 'I'm not letting some pirate ass-raped me for the sake of peace and equality,' Lt Kim swore, his hand on a phaser pistol grip.

"Scanning... Bogie, one, Type 5 shuttle with Zeon insignia, emergency beacon activated. Two life signs onboard: one human, one dolphin," the tactical officer reported.

"Hail them," Ai ordered.

Miles appeared onscreen, kicking Sparky's head. "You stupid son of a bitch!" He realized he was being hailed. "Hello?"

"MV Steel Angel to Zeon shuttle. You are in Gonghe space. State your business."

"We're saved!" Miles embraced Sparky and kissed the dolphin's forehead.

"Stop! Get... your... gay ass... hands... off... me!" Sparky demanded.

Miles ignored the dolphin. "This is Chief Petty Officer Miles O'Brien! I'm a Starfleet serviceman on a special mission of critical importance! My shuttle is damaged-- you must get me back to Federation space!" He knew Gonghe citizens viewed the Federation and Starfleet through rose-tinted glasses since Capt James T. Kirk saved the Gonghe capital from a Breen attack.

Ai turned to the tactical officer. "Remain at red alert. Aim tractor beams, target the Type 5 shuttle." She turned to the viewscreen. "Steel Angel to Chief O'Brien. We'll be towing your shuttle to a Gonghe Navy base so we can confirm your identity. Are you in need of medical assistance?"

"Yeah, I'm all black and blue thanks to some goddamn dykes," Miles answered.

"I... need... pussy," Sparky added.

"Standby. We'll transport you to sickbay after the shuttle is recovered." Ai ended communications and turned to the tactical officer. "Station security personnel in sickbay. Restrict O'Brien and the dolphin's to sickbay until we get to Naval Station Ziqiang IV."

"Yes, Madam," the tactical officer answered.

>

Planet GLOCK, named for the manufacturer of the Gonghe military's official pistol and submachine gun, was known as Ziqiang IV, "Self-Motivated to Be Strong IV." After the Gonghe Republic was founded, GLOCK was one of two companies to successfully petition the government to change a planet's name-- the other was Mauser, the manufacturer of the military's official rifle and machine gun. The manufacturer collected royalties for every GLOCK handgun replicated in the Republic-- Gaston Glock's descendants were some of the wealthiest people in the galaxy.

This wealth became visible when the Steel Angel and the Saber Angel, Steel Angel Security Services' two Constitution WANK class heavy cruisers, docked at one of 450 Gonghe military defense stations orbiting the planet. As Miles' hospital bed and Sparky's fish tank were pushed into the station, the sex offenders saw the GLOCK Chairman's gift to the planetary garrison: golden dragons encircling the pillars, making the station resemble an imperial palace. "Jesus Christ." "Holy."

The mercenaries escorted the restrained sex offenders to Senior Captain Marsellus Wallace's office, decorated to resemble a throne room. The garrison commander took a PADD from a mercenary, read the displayed data, and turned to Miles. "Miles O'Brien, Chief Petty Officer, Starfleet?"

"Yeah, now will you please release me? I got a mission to perform," Miles claimed.

"I've contacted the Starfleet liaison at Navy HQ. For security, you must remain aboard this station until you're identity is confirmed-- pirates are known to impersonate Starfleet personnel." Capt Wallace was partially correct-- many Starfleet personnel were criminals. Fortunately for Starfleet, Republic authorities thought these criminals were imposters-- military and police officers would "do a favor" by beating these criminals, breaking every bone in their bodies, before handing them to Federation authorities for prosecution.

'Fuck me,' Miles didn't say. "Can you at least get me out of this fucking bed?"

Capt Wallace ordered, "Unlock his restraints." Military police complied. "We prepared a room for you. I'm afraid the dolphin must remain in his tank-- we don't have accommodations for cetaceans aboard this station."

"Fuck... you," Sparky cursed.

"Shut your blowhole!" Miles reached into the tank to punch the dolphin. "Thank you, Sir," he said to Capt Wallace, ignoring Sparky's curses.

>

Brigadier Zaia watched stars shoot by the battle bridge viewscreen as the ZSS Burdizzo and two D7-2 class battlecruisers followed the stolen shuttle's warp signature. A member of the Principality of Zeon Special Operations Service (SOS), Zaia was ordered to recapture the sex offenders at all costs-- the SOS was determined to perfect the experimental weapon that mutated Sparky into a dolphin.

The Burdizzo class assault cruiser resembled her namesake castration instrument. The portside "handle" mounted two catapults to launch fighters and shuttles, the starboard side mounted a photon torpedo launcher and a four-barrel mini-torpedo launcher designed to fire 600 torpedoes per minute, the "open jaws" mounted two Delta radiation, Instantly Killing Emission (DIKE) cannons and four warp nacelles. Based on the D7 class battlecruiser, the Burdizzo was equipped with a cloaking device and fitted for ablative armor plates. Zaia wondered if the cloak was effective against Gonghe Navy sensors, and if the armor was effective against Gonghe Navy weapons. 'I don't want to know.' One year ago, Zaia accompanied a female mercenary commanding a WANK cruiser she hired to hunt down two sex offenders who escaped to Klingon space-- she watched the trigger-happy mercenary masturbate as the WANK cruiser's weapons vaporized the sex offenders, their shuttle, and a 440-meter-wide asteroid that got in the way.

"Mistress, we're at the Zeon-Gonghe border," the helmswoman reported. "Incoming, two Tianjian class destroyers, bearing two o'clock high, weapons hot," Lieutenant Junior Grade Sakura Sulu, the tactical officer, reported.

"Full stop," Zaia ordered.

"Mistress, we're being hailed," Lieutenant Junior Grade Jezebel, the communications officer, reported.

"Onscreen." 'Damn, that's an ugly outfit,' Zaia thought as a Gonghe Navy officer appeared, his tactical suit a stark contrast to the Zeon crew's skintight leather uniforms. Gonghe military doctrine required warriors to wear tactical suits-- protecting them from shrapnel, radiation, biological and chemical weapons-- on duty.

"GGV Feidao to Zeon cruisers. State your business," a destroyer captain demanded.

"Burdizzo Battle Group to GGV Feidao, we're in pursuit of an escaped sex offender, requesting permission to enter Gonghe space."

"Incoming, two Tianjian class destroyers, bearing ten o'clock high, weapons hot." Sakura apparently played with her hair-- sign language developed to let women warriors communicate in secret-- to ask, 'Hit-and-run?' She saw Zaia signal, 'No, no, no.'

"Transmit relevant info to us," the destroyer captain demanded.

Zaia turned to Jezebel. "Make it so." The communications officer transmitted a copy of Miles and Sparky's criminal records, edited to hide the fact that Miles served in Starfleet.

"Please standby as higher command is contacted." The destroyer captain ended communications.

Sakura turned to Zaia. "Mistress?"

'So cute, so eager to please.' "Zaia to Papillon," she called to her XO in the aviation bridge.

"Papillon to Zaia."

"Captain Papillon, you have command. I'll be evaluating the battle bridge crew. Contact me when the Gonghe commander has given an answer." Zaia turned to Sakura. "Begin evaluation."

The tactical officer smiled. "Yes, Mistress!" She unzipped her corset to let Zaia's hands "evaluate" her breasts as her mistress kissed her. Jezebel and the helmswoman and retrieved dildos from under their seats, and then joined the orgy.

>

"Cough, cough, gasp!" Miles inhaled deeply before holding his breath and reentering the bathroom. He knew Zeon would send an operative to kill him, and needed weapons to defend himself. He couldn't reprogram the food slot to replicate a weapon, so he decided to make fertilizer bombs by mixing his shit-- rich in nitrate, an oxidizing agent-- with replicated carbohydrates. 'I'm shoving a brick up Keiko's ass, and lighting the fuse! That'll teach the bitch to respect her husband!' he swore, examining the mixture in the bathtub.

"You... stink!" Sparky exclaimed from the tank beside Miles' bed.

"Shut your blowhole!" Miles threw the "prototype"-- a cherry-sized ball of shit with a cigarette inserted to form a fuse-- into the tank and dived under the bed.

Boom! "Squeal!"

Miles exited his "bomb shelter" to see water leaking from cracks in the tank. "Victory!"

"You... bitch! I'll... kill... you!"

Miles laughed. "Don't get your panties in a bunch!" He replicated sewing needles to form shrapnel and flares to form fuses, reentered the bathroom, and began "mass-producing" bombs. Surveillance cameras monitored this, but security guards weren't monitoring the cameras-- they were puking out their guts after they saw the sex offender play with his own shit.

>

Major Jules Winnfield-- recently promoted from the rank of Sergeant Major-- sensed a disturbance in the Force, the "shatterpoint" upon which the lives of thousands of sentient beings hung in the balance. 'Someone needs an ass kicking.' He gripped his "knight saber"-- a device projecting an energy beam to a fixed length to serve as a blade-- and went in search of someone to cover his back.

Lt Kim sat in a cafe, sipping Raktajino as his PADD displayed advertisements for starships. 'Ex-Gonghe Navy vessel, Constitution WANK class heavy cruiser... Ex-KDF vessel, K't'inga class battlecruiser... Ex-KDF vessel, B'Rel class scout... What, no one wants to be captain of a freighter or a liner, something that doesn't get in trouble all the time?' He saw another ad. 'Ex-Starfleet vessel, Intrepid class... luxury liner?' Kim sighed. 'I heard rumors that Starfleet officers sold critical components aboard their ships for beer money, but this is ridiculous!' A metal fist slammed against the table. "What the fuck?!" Kim rose from his chair and reached for his phaser. "Major!" He froze in fear.

"You're alert. That's good." Jules put his prosthetic right hand on Kim's shoulder. "We got work to do: someone needs an ass kicking."

'Us?' Kim had a bad feeling, the same feeling he had whenever he went on a suicide mission.

"We ain't the ones bending over to get our asses kicked. Come on." Jules led Kim towards the room where Miles and Sparky were, and were stopped by two guards.

"Halt! This is--" The senior guard recognized Jules. "Sergeant Major Winnfield?"

"Sergeant Jackson, I sense a shatterpoint in that room," Jules pointed at a door behind the guards, "and I'm gonna hit it before it hits us."

"The thing you sensed when that Breen platoon tried to ass-rape us? Fuck." The guard looked around. "You still got your old uniform?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"Put it on before you come back, or the Commander will rip out my spine."

"Gotcha." Jules turned to Kim. "Stay here and await my return."

"Yes, Sir." Kim watched Jules sprint down the hallway.

>

Two Tianjian class destroyers escorted the Burdizzo Battle Group towards Planet GLOCK. Republic authorities reviewed Steel Angel report on the stolen shuttle's discovery, and decided to let Zaia retrieve the ship-- now the woman warrior must convince them to let her retrieve the sex offenders.

Meanwhile, Capt Wallace, escorted by four warriors, approached Miles and Sparky's room. "Commander Wallace to Chief O'Brien. I must speak with you. May I enter?"

"Uh, no, you see, we're, uh... making love!" Miles turned to Sparky. "Squeal, you son of a bitch! We got to make this sound convincing!" he whispered.

"Fuck... you!" the dolphin cursed.

Miles punched Sparky. "Squeal!"

"Squeal!" Splash! "Squeal!"

"You're having sex with a cetacean?" Capt Wallace asked, incredulous.

"Yeah!" Splash! "Squeal!" "Can you give us some privacy?" Splash! "Squeal!"

"No." Capt Wallace ordered the guards to open the door, letting him see Miles-- his hands covered in shit, bombs hanging from pockets crudely sewn on his clothes-- punch the dolphin. "What in hell?!"

Miles gripped a flare igniter. "These are fertilizer bombs! Get back or I'll blow you all to pieces!"

"You're an imposter!" Capt Wallace accused.

"I'm not an imposter, I'm a Starfleet NCO," non-commissioned officer, "and I'm getting back to the Federation if it's the last thing I do!"

Capt Wallace drew his GLOCK 50 automatic pistol. "Shoot him!" The warriors aimed MP30 submachine guns at Miles, confident the tactical suits would protect them from the blast and shrapnel-- before Sparky's tank shattered, the water sweeping the humanoids off their feet.

Outside the room, Lt Kim slipped on the water now flooding the hallway. "Fuck!" As he laid on the floor, he saw a man ride a dolphin out of the room, down the hallway. "What the fuck?"

"This... is all... your... fault... mother... fucker!" Sparky accused.

"Shut your blowhole and get us to the shuttlebay, you stupid son of a bitch!" Miles ordered.

"You... shut... up!" Rubber bullets ricocheted off the floor, walls, and ceiling as the warriors recovered. "Fuck... me!" Sparky stopped trying to talk, his flippers pushing against the floor as he tried to reach the hangar. A man in a Gonghe Army dress uniform stepped in front of him. "Move... mother... fucker!"

"Get out of--" Miles watched the man become a blur-- then he felt the man's boot impact his face, knocking him off the dolphin's back.

Jules psychokinetically pulled the flares out of the bombs, disarming them. "Piece of shit terrorist." He saw Capt Wallace and the warriors run towards him

"Li, Willis, apprehend the imposter. Yuan, Thurman, come with me." Capt Wallace ran after Sparky, who was still trying to swim on the floor.

A warrior recognized Jules. "Sergeant Major Winnfield? What are you doing here? I thought you," he saw Jules signal him to be quiet, "were on leave," the warrior finished.

Jules saw Lt Kim run to him. "Sorry I'm late, I had to alert the Teppou sisters." He noticed the man was out of breath. "You need to work out more. Join me in the gym at 1700 hours for some PT," physical training.

"Fuck," Lt Kim cursed between breaths.

>

"Mistress, we're being hailed."

"Onscreen."

"GGV Feidao to Burdizzo Battle Group. We received word that the sex offenders built a terror bomb and threatened the garrison commander. One criminal, who identified himself as 'Miles O'Brien,' has been apprehended. One criminal, who identified himself as 'Sparky,' boarded the stolen shuttle and escaped. What are your plans?"

"Burdizzo Battle Group to Feidao. We will separate into two groups. The Penectomizer will continue to Naval Station Ziqiang IV and discuss the matter of Miles O'Brien with your officers. The Burdizzo and the Eunuchizer will pursue Sparky and the stolen shuttle," Zaia answered.

"Please standby as higher command is contacted," the destroyer captain ordered.

"I never imagined Gonghe military officers were so enthusiastic about covering their asses," Jezebel commented.

"GGV Feidao to Burdizzo Battle Group. Two MVs were hired to escort you as you pursue the stolen shuttle. Please standby until the MVs arrive, ETA," estimated time of arrival, "ten minutes."

"Contact, two, Constitution WANK class heavy cruisers," Sakura reported.

Zaia recognized one of the ships: the MV Steel Angel, whose weapons vaporized a 440-meter-wide asteroid. "Damn."

"That was fast," the destroyer captain noted. "GGV Feidao to Burdizzo Battle Group. We'll escort the... Penectomizer... to Naval Station Ziqiang IV. Steel Angel Security Services will aid the Burdizzo and the... Eunuchizer's... pursuit of the stolen shuttle."

"Roger, Feidao." Zaia ordered the ZSS Penectomizer to follow the Gonghe Navy destroyers to Planet GLOCK.

Jezebel commented, "The mercs are probably here to keep an eye on us." Although they had significant trade relations, diplomatic relations between Zeon-- founded by British militant feminists-- and Gonghe-- founded by Chinese People's Liberation Army super soldiers, genetically engineered to fight Augments during the Eugenics Wars-- were often tense. The Republic, inheriting the Chinese founders' suspicion of eunuchs, criticized the Zeon Justice Ministry for castrating male sex offenders. The Principality, wary of male-dominated societies, criticized the Gonghe Education Ministry for teaching girls that condoms were designed as waterproof seals for rifle and machine gun muzzles. "Mistress, we're being hailed."

"Onscreen."

"ZSS Burdizzo, this is the Steel Angel-- Oh, hi, Zaia! Ooh, you were promoted! Congratulations!" Ai cheered.

"Thank you, Love Guns," a direct translation of Ai's name.

"The Ziqiang IV planetary garrison hired us to aid your pursuit of a criminal. For security, please transmit relevant info to us."

Zaia turned to Jezebel. "Make it so."

The Steel Angel's communications officer quickly examined the data displayed above her console. "It matches the info we received from the garrison commander."

"Okay, get ready to rock!"

>

Sparky piloted the shuttle-- its computer reprogrammed by Miles to obey men's orders-- into the Federation space, towards an asteroid base. Established by Lord Spanky II, the base was where six Barons of Bukkake attempted to create a functional Evangelion, a clone of God with the power to erase the physical and emotional barriers between humans so their souls could merge together to be reborn as a one perfect being-- not the grotesque transforming dragon from 'Evangelion Wars' that actually enforced such barriers, as evidenced by the false Shinji's showing off, spinning and juggling his guns to impress woman.

The Evangelion was still incomplete, without the holy powers demonstrated in 'Neon Genesis Evangelion', but Sparky was confident it was powerful enough to destroy a D7 class battlecruiser. 'I will rape the Principality of Zeon and avenge the humiliation I suffered in the bitches' hands!' the dolphin swore, starting the Evangelion's "super solenoid engine"-- matter/antimatter reaction assembly.

The Burdizzo and the Eunuchizer, flanked by the Steel Angel and the Saber Angel, approached Sparky's asteroid base as the 200-meter-tall robot emerged from a camouflaged hangar. "That looks like a castrated Evangelion Unit 01," Jezebel commented. "No draconian cruise mode, no atomic turbojets or booster rockets, no 280 mm Gauss cannons, no CQC," close quarters combat, "claws."

Zaia sighed. 'Damn otaku,' fan. "Is there a cockpit?"

"Affirmative: back of the neck. One life sign, cetacean male, detected."

"Sparky must be captured alive, I say again, Sparky must be captured alive. All ships, firing pattern Bobbitt Three," named for a woman who severed the penis of her abusive husband.

"Say again?" Ai asked.

"Castrate the robot." Zaia watched the Steel Angel's heavy PENIS cannon blast the Evangelion in half. "I said castrate, not disembowel!"

"Incoming, twelve o'clock!" Sakura warned, watching the robot's left leg fly towards the Burdizzo.

"Evasive action!" The assault cruiser dived to dodge the leg.

The robot's upper body spun like a propeller before crashing into the asteroid-- Sparky would puke if he were still a man. "Target... Zeon... cruisers. Positron... rifle--" He disconnected the weapon from its mount on the Evangelion's back, and noticed the rifle barrel was broken. "Mother... fucker!" He couldn't open the weapons bay doors on the Evangelion's pauldron. "Forgive... me... noble... ancestors." He tore open the doors to draw the progressive knife. The robot pushed against the asteroid, launching itself towards the Burdizzo.

"Fire DIKEs!" Zaia watched the beams pierce the Evangelion's shields, scorching its armor.

Sparky drew a second knife. "Justice... through... penetration!" He threw the knives into the DIKE cannon barrels.

The impact shook the battle bridge crew-- fortunately, they wore wear seatbelts to prevent serious injuries. "Mistress, DIKEs One and Two are inop!" inoperable.

"Scramble interceptor and MS squadrons!" Zaia ordered. "Scramble fighters!" Ai ordered.

"MS pilots, prepare to scramble. I'll lead in the Queen of Battle. Commander Wu, you have command of the Saber Angel," Colonel Ren Teppou, the Saber Angel's captain, ordered as she marched into the turbolift.

Sparky ignored the ZDF interceptors and mechanized strikers launching from the Burdizzo and the Eunuchizer. The F-4 Dora interceptors' weapons were too light to threaten him. The MS-6F Zealots, led by a MS-7S Glory command MS, were insects that would be crushed in the Evangelion's hands. The robot's fists slammed against the asteroid to break off pieces of rock, which the dolphin threw at the Zeon cruisers. The mechanized strikers swarmed around the Burdizzo and the Eunuchizer, intercepting flying rocks that got past the interceptors and the Steel Angel's F-7 Viper fighter squadrons.

He was forced to reevaluate his opinion of the ZDF mechanized strikers when a thermal-electric whip extended from the Glory's right wrist to entangle an incoming rock-- the MS spun and released the rock in the Evangelion's direction. "Bitch!" the dolphin cursed, watching the rock break off the robot's horn.

Ren's MS-9S Tyrant command MS led seven MS-9 Dominators to Sparky's blind side-- the gaping hole where the Evangelion's lower body was-- taking advantage of the dolphin's obsession to punish the women warriors. "Odd numbers, target left armpit. Even numbers, target right armpit. Avoid reactor and fuel tanks. Ready, aim, fire!"

"What... the fuck?!" Sparky's head turned to see the Evangelion's arms, severed by the mechanized strikers' light PENIS cannons and Warthog torpedo volley systems, fly away. "No... fair!"

The Tyrant stowed its Warthog to draw its power saber-- the left hand still gripped the light PENIS cannon-- as it rocketed towards the Evangelion's head. The robot turned to the MS, its mouth open, but Sparky failed to bite the Tyrant in half-- Ren filled its mouth with PENIS bolts, blasting a hole to the back of the neck, before the saber severed the upper jaw.

Sparky was blinded when the Evangelion's head flew away from the body. "Initiate... self-destruct... sequence." Silence answered him-- the robot's computer no longer functioned. "Initiate... self--" He felt the "entry plug"-- pilot's escape capsule-- being pulled out of the robot. "Squeal!"

"One life sign, cetacean male, detected," Ren reported, carrying the capsule away from the robot's wreckage.

"Burdizzo to MS commander, bring the cetacean to us. The freak will pay for the trouble he caused," Zaia swore.

"My orders were to deliver him to Republic authorities," Ren answered.

'Bitch.' "A pity. The Principality posted a bounty for Sparky's capture: 1000 bars of latinum."

"Life signs are falling, the subject is dead. I'm handing the body to Zeon medics to confirm the subject's ID." The Tyrant handed the capsule to the Glory.

"Beam that cetacean freak into the brig," Zaia ordered. "And prepare the bounty."

"You think these traitors to the female sex are worth that much money?" Jezebel asked.

"No, but our lives are."

Jezebel sighed. 'Damn mercenaries.' "Yes, Mistress."

>

Capt Wallace was pissed. The incident with "the imposter" publicly humiliated his command and himself. Anger and hatred filled his eyes as he stared at the unconscious man in the cell. "Warriors, beat the imposter until you break every bone in his--"

"Wait, we need him alive," Zaia stated.

Capt Wallace angrily turned to the woman warrior. "Miss Zaia, this man was caught committing a terrorist act aboard a Gonghe military facility. The Principality's needs are subordinate to the Republic's in Gonghe space."

'If we were in Zeon space, I'd castrate you for this.' Zaia smiled, hiding her anger-- she was outnumbered and outgunned aboard Naval Station Ziqiang IV-- and said, "Hand him to us, and I'll make it worth your while."

"How?"

"The Zeon military is growing, but our domestic gun manufacturers are unable to keep up with our needs. If you negotiate an arms deal worth of millions of bars of latinum, that's a positive note on your record, yes?"

Capt Wallace calmed down. "Then let's negotiate."

>

Miles awoke with a splitting headache. "Argh! I haven't felt like this since the time I downed a half a barrel of Klingon blood wine!"

"Good, you're awake. It's not right for you to be unconscious before your emasculation."

Miles stared at the woman wearing a crown inlaid with silver wings. "Who the fuck...?" He saw a bronze castration clamp adorned with sculpted cherubs, used to ritually castrate male followers of the goddess Cybele, in her hand. "No." A hand touched his shoulder-- he turned to see Keiko holding a scalpel.

"Welcome back, Miles." The botanist smiled as the platoon leader put the clamp on the sex offender's genitals, making him wince. "Don't worry, I'm not going to castrate you-- the SOS is developing a biological weapon that can transform men into women, and they need to know if your testes can become ovaries. Your penis, on the other hand..."

"Stop, you sick bitch!" Miles struggled against his restraints as Keiko lowered the scalpel. "How dare you?! Noooo!"

>

"Noooo!" Sparky rammed his head against the bars, trying to escape-- by busting open the cage or by busting open his skull, it didn't matter-- as the opening theme of 'Evangelion Wars' played nearby. "Turn... off... the TV! You... bitch! I'll... kill... you if... you don't... turn off... the TV!"

A guard entered the prison block. "Shut up!" She shoved a cattle prod down the dolphin's blowhole, silencing him. "My favorite show is on!" She exited the block and raised the television volume.

Sparky was a statue, unable to move or talk. Unfortunately, he could still breath-- despite his wishes, he wouldn't die from listening to the false Shinji sing a Johnny Cash song. 'I fell down into a burning ring of fire, and I cannot get out!'

"And it burns, burns, burns..."

'Fuck!'

>

Not the end.

Jules and Capt Wallace are named after characters created by Quentin Tarantino and Roger Roberts Avary.

Anno Hideaki and Gainax created-- and destroyed-- 'Neon Genesis Evangelion'. The F-4 Dora is based on the Dopp fighter from 'Mobile Suit Gundam'-- created by Tomino Yoshiyuki and Sunrise-- adapted for 'Star Trek' technology and renamed after the women's rights activist Dora Black (1894-1986). The F-7 Viper is based on the Mark VII Viper from 'Battlestar Galactica', created by Glen A. Larson and Ronald D. Moore. The command mechanized strikers are based on the MS-7B3 Gouf Custom and MS-9F Dom Tropen.

In case anyone's curious, Tianjian means, "Heavenly Sword," Feidao means, "Flying Saber," and Ren Teppou means, "Romancing Guns"-- an appropriate name for Ai's younger sister.

>

In the Fortress of Solitude, at the center of the Fanfic Galaxy, Prime Dalton sat in his throne, assembling a scale model of a Constitution class heavy cruiser. 'Strange, I don't recall this thing having a spoiler.' The Fanfic Master examined the instructions, shrugged, and put the wing-- mounting two impulse engines and two phaser emitters-- between the warp nacelles.

Knock, knock. "Milord, it is Dalton Two-Three. We detected another fanfic paradox."

"Enter."

Dalton 2-3, a clone in Prime Dalton's service, entered the throne room. "Milord, we detected another plotline branching out from another plotline branch in--"

"The 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic'?"

"You are correct, Milord."

"What kind of trouble did those idiots," authors of the 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic', "caused this time?"

"Milord, apparently they created a parallel dimension, an 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' fanfic, so they could write stories featuring giant robots from Japanimation."

"Onscreen." Prime Dalton's eyes widened to see two Zaias-- one from the 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic', one from 'Love Guns'-- sitting on a bed. "What is this?"

"Milord, apparently a ship from the 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' and a ship from the 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' fanfic have made contact through a dimensional rift."

Prime Dalton pressed a button on the armrest's integral remote control to raise the volume.

"Something on your mind?" Zaia One asked.

Zaia Two blushed. "I was curious, if I have sex with my counterpart from a parallel dimension, will that me a lesbian or a narcissist?"

Zaia One smiled. "Let's find out." She kissed Zaia Two, whose mouth opened to admit Zaia One's tongue.

"Milord, shall we...?"

"Hush," Prime Dalton ordered, watching the Zaias unzip each other's corsets to play with each other's breasts. "Leave the writers alone-- they're doing good work."

"Yes, Mi-mi-mi..." Dalton 2-3 became tongue-tied as Zaia One opened a drawer under the bed to retrieve a strap-on dildo.

"And get the fuck out of here."

The clone nodded and exited the room.

[consequences]

As a point of personal preference, I'd say that you should leave acronym explanations and foreign word translations till the end of the chapter.

[Sidewinder]

As a point of personal preference, I'd say that you should leave acronym explanations and foreign word translations till the end of the chapter.

Thank you for your suggestions. I'll try to accomodate them, but my writing style is inspired by Ian Fleming's, which is absurdly detailed. (I admit my writing skills aren't as good as those of James Bond's creator, but I'm trying to catch up.)

[Sidewinder]

Revised and renumbered 23JAN2007
___________
LOVE GUNS 4: THE FEDERATION CIVIL WHORE-- I MEAN, WAR

>

WAR! WITH SPOCK'S ELECTION AS PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED FEDERATION OF PLANETS, MEMBERS OF THE "NEW HUMANS" POLITICAL MOVEMENT ATTEMPTED TO ASSASSINATE THE NEWLY-ELECTED PRESIDENT TO PREVENT SPOCK FROM REESTABLISHING A CAPITALISTIC MARKET ECONOMY-- AN ATTEMPT THAT FAILED BECAUSE THE WOULD-BE ASSASSIN STEPPED IN FRONT OF SPOCK AND POSED FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT AS HE SHOUTED, "DIE!" ALLOWING SPOCK'S BODYGUARDS TO KICK HIS ASS BEFORE HE PRESSED THE FIRING BUTTON.

DECLARING A STATE OF EMERGENCY AND MOBILIZING STARFLEET, SPOCK IS DETERMINED TO PROMOTE HIS ECONOMIC REFORMS DESPITE THE OPPOSITION OF THE NEW HUMANS, WHO HAVE SECEDED FROM THE FEDERATION TO FORM A COMMUNIST STATE LOYAL TO THE TEACHINGS OF KARL MARX.

THERE ARE HEROES ON BOTH SIDES-- ACTUALLY, ONE SIDE HAS WAR HEROES, THE OTHER SIDE WANTS HEROES BUT DENOUNCES ITS OWN WAR HEROES AS "ACTING AGAINST THE IDEALS OF THE FEDERATION." EVIL IS EVERYWHERE-- ACTUALLY, ONE SIDE IS JUST PRO-BUSINESS, THE OTHER SIDE DENOUNCES PROFIT AS AN "EVIL OF CAPITALISM."

IN A STUNNING MOVE, THE LEADER OF THE NEW HUMANS' ELITE REDSHIRTS, COLONEL DANIEL RODGERS, HAS TRANSPORTED INTO THE PRESIDENTIAL OFFICE AND KIDNAPPED SPOCK-- ACTUALLY, POOR INTELLIGENCE GOT RODGERS' ASS KICKED LIGHT-YEARS FROM EARTH. SPOCK AND THE DUCHESS OF ZEON WERE NEGOTIATING A FREE TRADE AGREEMENT AT THE PALACE OF THE AMAZONS AS STARFLEET, REESTABLISHED AS A MILITARY ORGANIZATION TO DEFEND THE FEDERATION, BOMBED THE SHIT OUT OF RODGERS AND HIS REDSHIRTS.

AS THE REDSHIRT ASSAULT SHIP LIMPS AWAY FROM THE SOLAR SYSTEM, THE NEW HUMANS DESPERATELY TRY TO WIN RESPECT BY NAMING FLEET ADMIRAL GENE RODDENBERRY (RETIRED) AS THEIR LEADER...

>

The military commanders of the Federation of United Communists for the Kinetic Uprising of Peoples (FUCKUP)-- Fleet Admiral Rick Berman, Admirals Brannon Braga and David Brin, General Stewart Davies, and Ahdar Stilgar-- sat at a conference table. President Gene Roddenberry sat at the head of the table, covered in shadows. "The President's eyes became light sensitive as he became older," Adm Berman explained. "Now, regarding our plan to neutralize the traitor Spock and regain control of the Federation government. Colonel Rodgers would've been successful, and the traitor Spock would've been in our hands, if we had better intelligence," he didn't notice Stilgar cover his mouth to hide a snicker, "in the Federation. We conclude the need to plant spies in the Presidential staff, who'll inform us of the traitor Spock's whereabouts."

"What about our spies in the traitor Starfleet? Why didn't they report that Spock was going to Zeon Prime?" Adm Brin noted.

"You mean Lieutenant Zero Douji, alias Agent Zulu? The fool was caught sabotaging the USS Tasmanian Devil's antimatter containment unit." Stilgar activated the table's integral holoprojector to play a recording of a human male in a Starfleet uniform, his face cut and bruised, his arms bound behind his back.

"I just needed some beer money! Come on, everyone does it! No harm--" A hand, gripping a Colt, Smith and Wesson B-29 revolver, pistol whipped him. "Ah! You filthy piece of monkey shit! When I get-- What? No, stop! You can't--" The hand squeezed the trigger-- the EFMJ bullet's kinetic energy beheaded Lt Douji.

"That's a little harsh, isn't it? As junior officers, we all 'salvaged' components and sold them for some beer money," Adm Braga commented.

Stilgar frowned at Adm Braga. "Surely you jest." His eyes widened in shock. "You're serious."

"No harm ever came of that-- an antimatter containment unit isn't a critical component of the warp core. I mean, I can hardly be held responsible for the warp core breach that destroyed the Yamato." 'I never thought I'd be grateful that nigger Varley booted me off his ship,' Adm Braga thought of his former commanding officer, who wanted to prosecute the then lieutenant commander for destruction of government property and reckless endangerment-- the charges against him were dropped when Captain Donald Varley died aboard the USS Yamato.

Stilgar turned to Adm Berman, who expressed no surprise at Adm Braga's revelation, as if he approved of such behavior. Adm Brin only covered his face, embarrassed. Gen Davies looked no more-- or less-- constipated than usual. 'What in hell have I gotten my people and myself into?'

"We must replace Lieutenant Douji," Adm Brin stated. "As Confucius said, 'Know your enemy and know yourself, and in a hundred battles you will never be imperiled.'"

"Sun Tzu said that," Stilgar corrected.

"What?"

"Sun Tzu said, 'Know your enemy and know yourself, and in a hundred battles you will never be imperiled.'"

"How dare you?! I'm a knowledgeable historian who wrote four books on human history! You're not even human, so don't try to correct my knowledge of human history!"

"Calm down, Dave," Adm Berman pleaded. "Remember, Ahdar Stilgar and the Son'a are our friends and allies." He turned to Gen Davies. "You have a spy in the traitor Marine Corps, right?"

"I had a--"

"Have him request a transfer to the traitor Spock's security detachment, so--"

"Will you listen to me?!" Gen Davies demanded. "I had a spy in the traitor Marine Corps. Had-- past tense. Corporal David Evan Kendall, alias Agent Kilo, was," 'high on marijuana, got the munchies, put a ration pack on a box of grenades and used his phaser to heat up his meal, getting himself,' "killed in a training accident."

"Damn. Well, we still need a spy in the traitor Starfleet and in the traitor Spock's staff. Does anyone have a subordinate they can use up and throw away like toilet paper-- I mean, trust to perform this vital mission?" Adm Berman asked. Adm Braga and Gen Davies answered him with blank stares.

"Since that giant robot destroyed the Ba'ku settlement and allowed us to reclaim our home planet, we've regained our true faces." Stilgar put a hand on his cheek to feel his smooth skin, healed by the metaphasic radiation in Ba'ku's planetary rings. "I propose disguising two of my subordinates as Ba'ku refugees so they may travel within the false Federation-- even join the traitor Starfleet-- without arousing suspicion."

"No. Such deception isn't true to the President's vision," Adm Berman stated.

"Why don't you the President speak for himself?" Stilgar rose from his seat. "President Roddenberry, we must have a spy in the traitor Starfleet and in the traitor Spock's staff. As Sun Tzu--"

"Confucius!" Adm Brin interrupted.

The Son'a ignored him. "Said, 'Know your enemy and know yourself, and in a hundred battles you will never be imperiled.' We are in peril-- we need intelligence to save our Federation and ourselves. Do you approve of my plan to disguise my subordinates as Ba'ku refugees so they may travel within the false Federation without arousing suspicion?"

Adm Berman put a hand under Pres Roddenberry's chin, pushing it so the President looked like he was talking. Adm Berman's other hand covered his mouth as he said, "No. Such deception--" Then Pres Roddenberry's head fell off.

"Gasp! You killed him!" Adm Brin accused.

"No, no, the President's fine!" Adm Berman pawed the floor, seeking Pres Roddenberry's head. "His joints became arthritic as he became older--"

"This ain't arthritis, this is rigor mortis!" Gen Davies exclaimed as Adm Berman put the head back on Pres Roddenberry's body.

Stilgar's expression didn't change. "How long has the President been dead?" he calmly asked.

"The President's not dead! He's just... tired!" Adm Berman insisted.

The Son'a drew his tricorder to scan the corpse. "I detect large amounts of formaldehyde, methanol, and ethanol-- embalming chemicals. Cause of death... heart attack. Estimated time of death... 5.45 to 5.80 years ago."

"He's not dead!" The head fell off again.

Stilgar stowed the tricorder. "I understand why you'd conceal Admiral Roddenberry's death from the public-- you need him to uphold the legitimacy of the FUCKUP government. But as your co-conspirators--"

"There's no conspiracy! Conspiracies are a betrayal of the President's vision!" Adm Berman shouted from the floor as he sought Pres Roddenberry's head.

"We must know of such details to better plan our actions in support of our agenda and in opposition to the traitor Spock's," the Son'a finished.

"No opposition! No conflict within the true Federation! We're all one people, united in our struggle for peace and equality! Ha!" Adm Berman cheered, rising from the floor to put the head back on Pres Roddenberry's body. "Dave, please replicate a roll of duct tape." Beam! "Ah!"

Gen Davies, Adm Braga and Brin turned to see Stilgar holster a disruptor pistol. "What the fuck?!" "What in hell are you doing?!" "You killed him!"

"No, I just stunned him. Help me get him to sickbay. We're going to surgically alter Admiral Berman to become President Roddenberry's exact double."

"What?!"

"You just saw that we cannot disguise a dead president as a living one, but we still need President Roddenberry to uphold the legitimacy of our government. Well, considering how loyal Admiral Berman is to the President's vision, I propose making Admiral Berman the President." Adm Braga and Gen Davies answered him with blank stares. "Answer me! Do you want to win this war?!"

Adm Braga and Gen Davies stared at each other, and stared at Stilgar. "Yes." Adm Braga turned to Gen Davies. "Get his feet." "No, you get his feet!" "I don't have a foot fetish! I'll get his left arm, Stilgar will get his right arm, you get his feet!" "I ain't touching his stinking feet! You get them!"

'What is that human expression of frustration?' the Son'a asked himself. 'I remember now: fuck me.'

>>

Bosco A. "Bad Attitude" Baracus was the first human Chancellor of the Klingon Empire. Born in the 20th century, B. A. was brought to the 24th century by time-traveling Klingon warriors. Former Chancellor Martok wanted to fight a great warrior on pay-per-view to prove his warrior skills to his subjects, and to earn a shitload of money-- he lost his job because he was foolish enough to fight Baracus.

After B. A. settled down in Qo'noS, the Klingon capital-- he beat the shit out of everyone foolish enough to challenge him, deterring the Klingons from challenging his position as leader of the Empire-- Baracus immediately demanded to know what happened to the A-Team, the commando unit he was a proud member of. He learned that after he was taken from the 20th century, the remaining members were arrested and court martialed, but Holland M. "Howling Mad" Murdock went berserk during the trial-- the judge, terrified, declared the A-Team not guilty by reason of insanity. After their release from military custody, the remaining members went their separate ways, got married, and had children.

B. A. wanted to recreate the A-Team, so he did research on the remaining members' descendants, finding three who were now mercenaries. Col Kahless Smith, John "Hannibal" Smith's descendent, was a human-Klingon hybrid who served in the Gonghe Army Special Forces-- B. A. hired him to lead the Yan-Isleth, the "Brotherhood of the Sword" charged with defending the Chancellor. Lieutenant Commander Starbuck Peck, Templeton "The Faceman" Peck's descendent, served as a fighter pilot in the Gonghe Navy-- he was hired to lead the fighter squadron stationed aboard Qo'noS One, the Chancellor's Negh'Var class command ship.

Captain Dakuan Murdock, Howling Mad's descendant, was a human-Vulcan hybrid who served as a hopper pilot in the Federation Marine Corps. He reportedly became insane after his hopper was shot down in the Battle of Ajilon Prime, but B. A. was certain Dakuan and his father inherited Howling Mad's madness. 'What kinda man would marry a woman who was horny only once every seven years?' Nonetheless, Dakuan had some useful skills, like the telepathic power to make someone hallucinate about pink bunnies-- few people, including B. A., Kahless Smith, and Starbuck, were immune to Dakuan's telepathic power-- so he was hired to pilot the Yan-Isleth assault shuttle stationed aboard Qo'noS One.

The new A-Team quickly earned the Yan-Isleth's respect. Kahless Smith's gunblade-- a .44 Magnum revolver-saber hybrid with a 91-centimeter-long blade-- allowed him to win one-on-ten battles against Yan-Isleth members, the greatest swordsmen in the Klingon Empire. Starbuck's brains made him a good fighter both in and out of the cockpit. Dakuan... even the fiercest warriors in the Klingon Empire, those who laughed in the face of an orbital bombardment, shook in fear of "the Crazy."

'I'm glad we got each other's back.' The Chancellor led a Yan-Isleth platoon to the Great Hall. 'I dunno what kinda tricks that pointy-eared guy got up his sleeve, and I ain't taking no chances,' B. A. thought as Pres Spock and his bodyguards marched into the hall. "Welcome to Qo'noS, Mister President. You want something to eat?"

>

Spock calmly explained his situation to B. A.: the Federation was a Klingon ally and trade partner, it was currently fighting rebels who opposed his economic reforms, and he wanted the Chancellor to assure the Klingon Empire would aid the Federation in its fight against the rebels.

"The Empire got enough stuff to deal with: men who need work, women who need love, kids who need learning, fools who need an ass kicking. Why should the Empire go deal with other people's stuff?" B. A. demanded. "Besides, what is it about your economic reforms that got those rebels so fired up?"

"The rebels oppose my reforms as a betrayal to the Federation's ideals, which they claim were based on ideals espoused in 'The Communist Manifesto'."

B. A. frowned, an expression promising an ass kicking to the fool who disrespected him. "Say again?"

"The rebels are communists inspired by Karl Marx's teachings."

"Commies?! There are commies in the Federation?!"

"Yes."

Baracus' expression promised an ass kicking so bad, his steel-toed boot would go in the fool's anus out the fool's head, crushing the internal organs in between. "I hate commies! I spent four years fighting those thieves, murderers, and rapists in Vietnam!" The A-Team members were United States Army servicemen who fought in the Vietnam War. "And you're telling me there are commies in the Federation, opposing economic reforms that'll let your people live the American Dream?!"

Spock was familiar with the term-- the late James T. Kirk often said becoming a starship captain fulfilled his American Dream. "Yes."

"That's it! General Martok!"

The former chancellor appeared behind the current one. "Yes, Chancellor."

"Mobilize the KDF," Klingon Defense Forces. "Some fools need an ass kicking, and we're gonna deliver that ass kicking!"

Martok smiled. "May the coming war bring honors to you and glory to the Empire." B. A. backhanded him, stamping the word "FOOL"-- the letters sculpted on Baracus' gold rings-- on the Klingon's forehead. "Argh!"

"Don't give me that jibba jabba about honor and glory-- there ain't no honor and glory in a real war! We're fighting the commies so our people can prosper and raise their families in peace! Now go work on your marksmanship! I don't want my warriors swinging swords while the commies rock 'n' roll with machine guns-- that makes 'em look like fools, which makes me look like a fool! I got no pity for those kinda fools!"

Martok climbed off the floor. "Yes, Chancellor."

>

The CSS Visionrazor, a Prometheus class tactical cruiser, sailed toward Qo'noS. Col Rodgers stood in the bridge, confident the cloaking device would conceal his ship from Klingon sensors. To ensure the mission's success, Col Rodgers wore his "ninja uniform" to inspire the Redshirts to fight harder in the coming battle.

The tactical officer reported, "Sir, we've detected the Enterprise Senior--"

"Prepare for multi-vector assault mode! Decloak on my command!"

"No! Sir, the ship's escorted by a Klingon fleet! We detect three Negh'Var class battleships with structural modifications, six Vor'cha class attack cruisers with structural modifications, and 36 birds-of-prey with WANK upgrades! If we decloak now--"

Col Rodgers drew his ninja sword and beheaded the tactical officer. "How dare you disrespect my authority?!" He pushed the corpse out of the tactical officer's seat and sat down. "Blue alert! Prepare for multi-vector assault mode!"

"Sir, we're being hailed-- it's the Klingons," the communications officer reported.

"Fuck 'em!"

"But the fact that the Klingons are hailing us means they detected us!"

"Three, two, one, zero," the Visionrazor's computer counted down before the ship decloaked and separated into three sections to attack the USS Enterprise Senior-- Spock's Constitution 2 class heavy cruiser-- from three directions.

Then Qo'noS One launched a torpedo with an enhanced radiation warhead-- a neutron bomb-- to scramble the Visionrazor's flight control systems. "No fair!" Col Rodgers cursed as the out-of-control sections crashed into each other, scattering ablative armor plates like pepper from a shaker.

B. A. stood in the command ship's bridge, eyes burning with rage at the hammer and sickle adorning the Visionrazor. "Qo'noS One to commie ships! Surrender or I'll kick your ass so hard, your intestines will pop out of your mouths!"

"CSS Visionrazor to Qo'noS One! You're at a tactical disadvantage! Your ships are technologically inferior to mine! Surrender and deliver the traitor Spock to our custody, or I'll cut a new hole in your ass!" Col Rodgers fired three torpedoes in front of Qo'noS One to intimidate the Klingons, but the command ship's Hedgehog mini-torpedo volley systems intercepted the incoming torpedoes. "No fair!"

"You asked for it!" B. A. changed the channel to communicate with his fleet. "Qo'noS One to all ships! Target the commie ships and kick ass!"

The Klingon ships shot at the sections with quantum and photon torpedoes, heavy and medium disruptor cannons, and disruptor emitters. The impacts transformed Col Rodgers into a pinball, bouncing him between the ceiling, walls, and floor. Snap! "Fuck me," he whispered as his neck broke upon the helmsman's back, slamming the helmsman against the console and engaging the warp drive. Col Rodgers and the crewmembers in the saucer section were lucky-- the Visionrazor's upper and lower stardrive sections became metal coffins for their crewmembers.

Commodore Montgomery Scott watched a dead Redshirt drift in front of the Enterprise Senior's bridge. "That B. A., he's more ruthless than any Klingon I know," he commented.

"Fortunately, the Chancellor's ruthlessness serves our goals." Spock turned to a replicator. "Tortilla chips, nacho cheese and jalapeno pepper slices covered, hot."

"Would ye mind getting me a bottle of scotch? I don't think I can handle this sober." Scotty caught the bottle Spock threw towards him. "Thanks."

>>

Gen Davies frowned at the man in the iron lung, crippled by a broken neck. "Daniel Rodgers: Redshirt. A man barely alive."

"Gentlemen, we can rebuild him," Adm Braga boasted, smiling. "We have the technology. We have the capability to make the world's first cybernetic person. Daniel Rodgers will be that person. Better than he was before. Better... stronger... faster."

"Actually, cybernetic technology has been used for prosthetics since the late 20th century-- there are billions of 'cybernetic men' in existence now," a medical officer stated.

Adm Braga drew a phaser pistol, set it to KILL, and shot the medical officer. "Don't correct me." He holstered the pistol and turned to Gen Davies. "You have some cybernetics programs going on to create 'super marines,' right?"

"The Federation Marine Corps had 'super marine' programs going on for centuries, but the Federation Council kept cutting their budgets and saying they're 'too militaristic,' 'against the ideals of the Federation,' or some other bullshit-- these programs are still going nowhere."

"Shit." Adm Braga looked around the sickbay, as if he was lost. "Maybe we can technobabble babble artificial spinal cord technobabble to increase his reaction time--"

'You mean decrease his reaction time,' Gen Davies didn't say.

"Technobabble babble prosthetic arm technobabble to increase his strength, technobabble babble prosthetic legs technobabble to increase his speed, technobabble babble to create a super marine!" Adm Braga turned to a computer console. "Computer, search for information on 'The Six Million Dollar Man'."

"Dollar Man?"

"A dollar was a monetary unit used by several nation-states prior to the establishment of the New World Economy."

"How the fuck is a 'Monetary Unit Man' going to help us?!" Gen Davies demanded.

"One result found: television series, produced from 1973 to 1978 CE, based on the novel 'Cyborg' by Martin Caidin," the computer reported.

"Yes!" Adm Braga stared at the monitor as he answered, "I'm studying this television series for info on how to transform Colonel Rodgers into a Super Redshirt, a better Redshirt than he was before. Better... stronger... faster."

"Fine, do what you got to do," Gen Davies deadpanned. "Just don't make the star of our propaganda films uglier than he already is."

>

Three hours later...

"I am Dan-Dan the Ninja Man!" Col Rodgers jumped through the hole he cut in the wall. "Feel the power of my phased energy rectification saber!" The integral weapon in his prosthetic right arm-- a device projecting a red energy beam to a fixed length to serve as a blade-- slashed at the FUCKUP marines guarding the sickbay of the CSS Bangkok, Adm Braga's Intrepid 2 class explorer.

"Ahhhh!" a marine screamed as the blade disintegrated the tissue around the cut.

Gen Davies, a self-described "man of action," wanted to charge out of his "cover" under the operating table, but Adm Braga laid on top of him. "Get the fuck off my back!"

"Hush! He can hear us!" the amateur cyberneticist warned.

"I am a fusion of human physiology and Starfleet technology, the next stage of evolution! Look on my power, ye mighty, and despair!" Col Rodgers boasted.

Slash! "Ahhhh!" "No, stay back!" Slash! "Ahhhh!" "Eric, noooo! You bastard!" Beam!

"Ow! You shot me!" Beam! "You shot me again! No fair!"

Beam! "Die already!" Beam!

"Stop shooting me!" Slash!

"Ahhhh!"

Adm Braga and Gen Davies crawled to the hole in the wall, watching Col Rodgers pull down a dead marine's pants. "What the fuck is wrong with him?!" Gen Davies hissed.

Adm Braga watched Col Rodgers sodomize the corpse as it disintegrated-- then the cyborg's penis hammered the floor until it poked a hole in the carpet. "An error was apparently committed during the operation to replace Colonel Rodgers' spinal cord."

"What kind of error?" Gen Davies noticed something on Col Rodgers's buttocks. "You plugged up his asshole?! No wonder he's pissed!" The cyborg's head turned to the sound of his voice. "Fuck me!"

"Admiral Braga to the bridge. Lock on--"

Gen Davies watched Col Rodgers jump upright and charge towards them. "Beam us to the bridge, right the fuck now!" The corridor faded out of sight to be replaced by the Bangkok's bridge. "Lock on that cybernetic freak and beam him out of here!" Gen Davies ordered.

"This is my ship! You don't give orders aboard my ship!" Adm Braga protested.

"Sir, Colonel Rodgers has entered Jefferies Tube Zero-Five and is approaching the bridge at a velocity of 90 kilometers per hour, ETA," estimated time of arrival, "four minutes!" the security chief warned.

"Shit! Beam him out of here!" Adm Braga ordered.

"Who?"

"Colonel Rodgers!"

"To where?"

"Into space!"

"But that will violate Colonel Rodger's constitutional rights!"

Adm Braga shot and killed the security chief. "Don't question my orders!" He ran to the security console, locked on the cyborg, and beamed Col Rodgers into space. "Good riddance." He turned to see surprise on the bridge crewmembers' faces. "You saw that cyborg sodomize a dead marine. I'm not gay-- I don't want to be anally penetrated."

Unfortunately for Adm Braga, space wasn't empty. The Bangkok was in drydock, attended by Work Bee utility crafts. "What the fuck?" a Work Bee pilot exclaimed as the cyborg appeared in front of him.

Col Rodgers' saber cut a hole in the Work Bee windshield. He entered the cockpit and turned over the pilot.

"Ahhhh!" the pilot screamed as the cyborg sodomized him, pushing him against the flight controls. The Work Bee flew circles around the Bangkok before crashing into warp nacelle, destroying it, the Work Bee, and the people in the cockpit.

The resulting explosion transformed the Bangkok into a pinball, bouncing between the drydock sides. "Shit!" Adm Braga's arms and legs encircled the console as if it was a blowup doll. Fortunately for him, Intrepid 2s mounted warp nacelles on fixed pylons instead of the prototype's variable-geometry pylons, making the propulsion systems more stable-- the chief engineer was able to eject the warp core before it exploded.

Unfortunately, the drydock was completely demolished by the time the Bangkok stopped bouncing. "Shit." "Fuck." "Admiral Berman's not going to like this," Adm Braga and Gen Davies commented. "Let's just blame this on capitalist terrorists." "Good idea." Adm Braga shot and killed the bridge crew to eliminate witnesses as Gen Davies destroyed the computer's bio-neural gel packs to eliminate evidence.

>>

Col Robert Scott Anderson smiled as the CSS Darkstar, his tactical cruiser, sailed towards Federation space. An ensign in Starfleet-- he was judged "unfit for starship duty" and stationed at the Starfleet Veterans' Retirement Home, where he wouldn't cause too much damage-- Anderson was promoted to the grade of field officer after his transfer to the FUCKUP Marine Corp, and made Redshirt Commander. "I'll show that traitor Spock! I'll flay him alive for making me give his senile ass a sponge bath!" he swore, not noticing he was talking aloud, or the disgust on the bridge crewmembers' faces. "I'll shove a phaser up his ass and disintegrate his guts!" he swore, caressing the phaser at his hip, a substitute for his penis. I'll--" Col Anderson accidentally pressed the firing button, setting his chair-- and his pants-- on fire. "Ah! Shit! Ah! Fuck!" He ran around the bridge like a headless chicken.

"Calm down, Sir!" "Don't panic!" the bridge crew advised. "Remember, you're supposed to stop, drop, and, uh, and--" "Stop, drop, and roll is a fire safety technique used to extinguish a fire on a person's hair or clothes. 'Stop' means the fire victim must stop and be still, ceasing any movement which may fan the flames or hamper those attempting to extinguish the fire," the helmsman explained as Col Anderson ran into a wall, knocking himself unconscious. 'Drop' means the fire victim must drop to the ground, lying down if possible. 'Roll' means the fire victim must roll on the ground to extinguish the fire by depriving it of oxygen," the helmsman finished as the fire-suppression system extinguished the flames on Col Anderson's pants.

Boom! "Ah!" Col Anderson regained consciousness. "What the fuck was that?!"

"I think that was an antimatter mine," the tactical officer answered.

"The traitors put a mine here?"

The tactical officer scanned the space in front of the ship. "I'm detecting ten mines, correction, 20, correction, 15, correction, 30-- the sensors are going haywire. I suspect the traitors deployed an entire minefield, using mines with stealth technology."

"No fair!"

"Sir, should we abort the mission?" the tactical officer asked. 'I don't want to die a virgin!'

"Hey, maybe we can technobabble babble the navigational deflector, technobabble babble emit a graviton beam to clear the minefield with one shot!" the science officer suggested.

"Make it so!" Col Anderson sat in his chair, forgetting the fire was extinguished less than a minute ago. "Ow! Hot! Ow!" He jumped out of the chair and fanned his buttocks to cool them, making it look like he was spanking himself.

The science officer and the chief engineer needed one hour to modify the navigational deflector to emit a graviton beam. Unfortunately, the Starfleet vessels that laid the minefield needed only 15 minutes to reach the Darkstar's position.

"Sir, I'm detecting two Galaxy class starships with WANK upgrades, bearing..."

"Sir, we're being hailed-- it's the antiques," the communications officer reported.

"Are you shitting me?! The cloaking device conceals us from their sensors! The antiques can't hail us if they don't know we're here, and they can't know we're here!" Col Anderson claimed.

"Well, our cloaking device was reverse-engineered from the one James T. Kirk 'salvaged' from a Romulan battlecruiser a century ago-- countermeasures were developed as time passed," the tactical officer noted.

"Shit! Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me?"

"The SHIT assessment describes these countermeasures. Didn't you read it?" The tactical officer raised his PADD, the screen displaying the title "Strategic Headquarters for the Improvement of Technology."

"How can I read that when I cannot understand 60 percent of the words in it?! I mean, 'flanking maneuvers.' What the fuck does a flank have to do with unconventional warfare?! We're Special Forces, not cooks-- we don't need to know what cut of meat is the flank!"

"Sir, a flanking maneuver is..."

>

"USS Miyamoto Musashi to unidentified ship. This is your final warning. Decloak, lower your shields, and surrender or die." Capt Trigga'Happi turned to the tactical officer. "Aim phasers and torpedoes. Fire." The Galaxy WANK class assault ships fired 18 torpedoes in the Darkstar's direction. Only three torpedoes hit, but they were able to disable the cloaking device. "Repeat." This time, all torpedoes hit the tactical cruiser, peeling off the ablative armor as if the Darkstar was a metal banana.

>

"Blue alert! Prepare for multi-vector assault mode!" Col Anderson turned to the science officer. "Accelerate work on the navigational deflector! Once it's ready, we'll fire the graviton beam and blow those antiques into their own minefield, destroying them all!"

>

Trigga'Happi watched the tactical cruiser separate into three sections to attack the Musashi from three directions, only to crash into other mines. "Big mistake, new human." The third and fourth volleys destroyed the Darkstar's upper and lower stardrive sections. The saucer section's navigational deflector emitted a graviton beam at the Musashi, but the modifications weren't complete-- Col Anderson ended up pushing his ship back into FUCKUP space.

"Sir, should we pursue?" the helmswoman asked.

"Negative, it could be a trap." Trigga'Happi turned to the tactical officer. "Replace the expended mines and log the new mines' positions. To blunder into our own minefield is to die without honor."

>>

Stilgar, holding a PADD, entered Gen Davies' office. "General-- argh! My eyes!" The Son'a covered his face-- the PADD clattered on the floor-- at the sight of two FUCKUP marines and wearing black leather chaps over bare skin.

Col Anderson wore a dog collar, his wrists chained to his ankles. "Ah, Sir! Oh yes! Punish me! Ah! Ow! Fuck my ass! Ow! Ah!" he cried as Gen Davies' riding crop lashed his back.

Gen Davies continued sodomizing Col Anderson. "May I help you, Ahdar?"

"Ah! Ow! Oh yes! Pump your cum into my filthy hole! Ah!"

"Damn it, is that how Federation officers earn promotion points?!" the Son'a exclaimed.

"No, this is a special screening process for the elite Redshirts, which tests their strength and endurance," Gen Davies deadpanned as he sodomized the bitch.

"You screen elite Redshirts for the strength of their anal sphincter?!"

"Yes-- I mean, I screen Redshirts for the strength of their will. Colonel Anderson is going through a refresher course for SERE-- survival, evasion, resistance, and escape-- training that prepared the legendary Green Berets for the risks they face behind enemy lines, such as capture and torture."

"Ah! I'm coming! I'm coming! Ahhhh!" Col Anderson fell unconscious.

Gen Davies used a wet wipe to clean Col Anderson's shit off his penis-- the bitch was still bent over, the riding crop inserted in his anus. "You got something to tell me?"

'You're a cum-sucking faggot. If you were a Son'a officer, I'd have you executed-- flayed alive, your arms and legs staked to the ground, your body offered to vultures.' Stilgar stopped covering his face to pick up the PADD. "Agent X-ray reported that Spock is assembling an invasion fleet at Klach D'Kel Brakt. If we launch a preemptive strike and destroy that fleet, we'll cripple the traitor Starfleet."

"Excellent. I'll contact Admirals Braga and Brin so we can plan the operation-- Operation Perceived Brilliance. Yes, that's a good name for a decisive blow against the capitalist traitors." Gen Davies unchained Col Anderson and pulled the riding crop out of the bitch's ass.

"Eek!"

"Wake up, Colonel Anderson! We got a big, bloody, destructive, and decisive battle to fight!"

The Redshirt commander saluted. "Yes, Sir!"

Stilgar frowned at the FUCKUP marines. 'I'd dismember that bitch and shove his arms and legs in your anus, his humerus and femur cut diagonally to form sharp edges that would tear apart your intestines...'

Fortunately for Stilgar's sanity, the marines changed into their dress uniforms before leaving. "Pres Roddenberry" and Adm Brin were already in the conference room. "Where's Admiral Braga?" the Son'a asked.

"Brannon's in the SHIT lab, performing research on artificial evolution to create a super Redshirt," the disguised Adm Berman answered.

"Fuck me," Gen Davies hissed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Anyways, regarding your plan. Why does it have to be called Operation Perceived Brilliance?" the President asked.

"By crippling the traitor Starfleet, we force the traitor Spock and those who share his guilt to perceive and acknowledge the brilliance of our advanced tactics," Gen Davies answered.

"Perceived Brilliance sounds too elitist. We don't the proletariat to mistake us for the bourgeoisie. How about a more austere name?"

"Why don't we call it Operation Restoration of the People's Democratic Federation?" Adm Brin suggested.

"What is this bullshit?! I can't spell half the words in that name!" Gen Davies stated.

"Restoration is spelled R-E-S-T..."

'We were too ambitious for our own good-- we should've delivered these idiots to Spock in exchange for diplomatic economic concessions, instead of accommodating these idiots, hoping to take over the entire Federation and install them as puppet leaders,' the Son'a regretfully thought.

>

Adm Braga meditated in an artificial womb, the walls bombarding him with technobabble radiation to induce genetic mutations. 'It's working! I'm evolving into a higher being! My mind is evolving-- I can see into Lieutenant Janeway's mind, see her wildest sexual fantasies, her desire to be spanked and then sodomized by a father figure! I now have the mental power of extrasensory perception! My body's transforming into...!'

Technicians monitored Adm Braga's condition. "If we need super Redshirts, why don't we just genetically enhance Redshirts to improve their strength, speed, and endurance?"

"Genetic engineering is illegal except to cure life-threatening--"

"To hell with that regulation! Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges: in times of war, the laws fall silent. The traitor Marine Corps has a 20 to one numerical superiority over us, and we must counter that if--" Three EFMJ bullets hit the first technician's head, killing him.

"Gasp!" The second technician reached for his phaser, but he was too slow-- the assassin's sound-suppressed MP30 submachine gun fired a burst of 7 x 30 mm rounds into his head before he turned around.

Lieutenant Lucy Janeway's left hand manipulated the womb controls, setting the radiation level above safe limits. "This is for slapping my butt every time I came to the office, you pervert." She exited the laboratory.

In the womb, Adm Braga became unbearably hot. 'What's happening? Am I becoming non-corporeal? I can feel my cock expanding, becoming erect. No, it's becoming vapor. No! I need--' "Shrieeeek!" He exited the artificial vagina, not as a higher being, but as...

>

"The operation will be named Operation Perceived Brilliance to inspire hope in our citizens, who entrusted us to lead them in working towards a better future," the President declared.

'Dumbass.' "Now that the operation has a name, let's plan it," Gen Davies suggested. "I propose--" He turned to an air vent as the scent of seminal fluids filled the conference room. "Is someone fucking in the air ducts again?" Boom! "Ahhhh!"

Col Anderson drew his pistol, aiming at the white blob that poured out of the vent and enveloped Gen Davies. "I cannot get a clear shot!" Disruptor beams hit the blob and the man trapped inside it. "Stop it! You're hitting the General!"

"Shrieeeek!" The mutated Adm Braga recoiled from Stilgar's shots-- inside him, Gen Davies clawed at the floor, trying to pull himself out of the blob. 'Stop! It's me, Brannon! Don't you recognize me?!'

Adm Brin's arms encircled Stilgar's shoulders. "Stop it! That thing is exhibiting signs of sentience! By shooting it, you're violating its constitutional rights!" The Son'a drew a knife and stabbed him. "Ahhhh!" Adm Brin fell on the floor, staring in shock at the blade embedded in his left thigh.

Stilgar continued shooting at the blob. "Die, you cum-sucking faggot! Die!" Its physiology inhibited the chain reaction allowing phasers and disruptors to disintegrate a man with one shot, but the blob couldn't defend itself from the rain of fire.

"Ahdar Stilgar, I must protest against your use of homophobic terminology," the President declared. "Not that I'd perform oral sex on another man, but I respect the right of male homosexuals to--" The blob and its prisoner exploded, covering the President with seminal fluids. "Argh! Yuck, I'm covered in cum! Disgusting!" He approached the door. "I'm taking a shower and washing this shit off me."

"But what about the General!" Col Anderson tearfully protested.

The President noticed bone fragments-- pieces of Gen Davies' skull-- stuck to his coat. "Fine, I'm promoting you to general and naming you Marine Corps Chief of Staff." He exited the room. "Yuck!"

Now Gen Anderson smiled despite the tears flowing down his cheeks, a bitch thanking his master for a good lashing. "Awesome!"

"What about me?! I'm fucking bleeding to death here!" Adm Brin shouted.

>>

The FUCKUP fleet sailed out of a secret base in the Briar Patch-- alias the Klach D'Kel Brakt Sector, named for a Klingon-held planet across the border-- to attack the Starfleet-KDF task force assembling in orbit above the planet. Subahdar Gothmog commanded this fleet from the Mercer, his battlecruiser. "This is too easy." He smiled at the absence of KDF patrols in the fleet's path.

"I advise caution-- the Klingons may have ordered their border patrol forces away from this region, presenting the illusion of weakness to lure us into a trap," the XO warned.

"You're too paranoid! Klingons are not that smart!" Gothmog claimed.

"Sir, we're within weapons range of Klach D'Kel Brakt," the helmsman reported.

"Sir, I detect 300 orbital stations armed with disruptors and photon torpedo launchers, but no ships longer than 27 meters," the tactical officer added. "I detect 400 warp signatures, suggesting an equal number of ships recently left this region."

'If there were 400 ships here, where did they go?' Gothmog shrugged. "Then shoot the orbital stations until they fall into the planet's atmosphere, raining death and destruction on Klach D'Kel Brakt. That should fulfill the mission objectives."

"Yes, Sir." The tactical officer locked on an orbital defense station-- then an alarm howled. "Sir, I detect 150 ships exiting warp at our 12 o'clock position! Correction, 270, correction, 400 ships! Sir, the orbital stations' weapons are powering up!"

"No fair!"

"The humans have a saying, 'All's fair in love and war.' We are at war, Sir," the XO noted.

The orbital defense stations and the incoming Starfleet-KDF ships fired hundreds of torpedoes, set to detonate near the FUCKUP ships to disable their cloaking devices-- then fighters were launched to attack the FUCKUP ships' flanks. "I love it when a plan comes together." Kahless Smith smiled at the chaos consuming the FUCKUP fleet as Son'a battlecruisers and Intrepid 2s maneuvered, crashing into each other as they tried to counter attacks from all directions.

>

"Yeeha!" Starbuck's F-7S Viper led an alpha strike against the rebuilt Darkstar, the fighters' micro PENIS cannons and belly-mounted Warthog torpedo volley systems hammering the tactical cruiser.

"Blue alert! Prepare for multi-vector assault mode!" Gen Anderson ordered.

"Sir, we cannot perform a multi-vector assault because the ship's computer wasn't fully repaired due to a Candida albicans," a fungus that caused jock itch, "outbreak that destroyed 98.1 percent of Starfleet's supply of bio-neural gel packs," the helmsman stated.

"Shit! Launch fighters!"

"You mean, launch torpedoes at fighters?" the tactical officer asked, confused.

"No, launch our own fighters to intercept the traitor fighters!"

"Sir, Starfleet doesn't have fighters-- the Federation Council cancelled the design and production of such militaristic vessels due to the image of fighter pilots as being arrogant and individualistic, in opposition to the Federation ideals of pacifism and conformism. Only the traitor Starfleet has fighters, an estimated 400 to 600 ex-Gonghe Navy spacecraft they bought to equip their Akira WANK class heavy cruisers."

"The Ultimate Darkstar's weapons are," useless, "overkill against swarming attacks like this! We need small, highly maneuverable vessels to counter them!" Gen Anderson snapped his fingers. "I know! Launch the Peregrines!"

"The Peregrine class courier ships?"

"Launch them and the shuttles! We'll crush the traitor Starfleet insects like... insects!"

"Actually, the attacking fighters bear Klingon insignia," the tactical officer noted.

"Shut up and launch them!"

The Peregrine was the most maneuverable Starfleet vessel to serve in the Dominion War-- armed with three phaser cannons and one torpedo launcher for self-defense, they were often used as fighters, even though they weren't designed for this purpose. Against a Viper's superior speed and maneuverability, a Peregrine was no better than a target drone.

Starbuck launched two mini-torpedoes, destroying a Peregrine and its wingman. "Splash two fighters!" An alarm warned him an enemy fighter was maneuvering behind him. Starbuck performed a Picard Maneuver, exiting warp at a Peregrine's eight o'clock position, and blasted it to pieces. "Splash three!"

Gen Anderson watched a Viper dive towards the Ultimate Darkstar. "No fair!" he cried as the Viper launched a quantum torpedo at the bridge, killing him.

"Splash one battlecruiser-- that's one more than you, Starbuck!" the Viper pilot radioed.

"Not for long, Apollo!" Starbuck countered. After the Vipers destroyed the orphaned courier ships and shuttles, he led the squadron towards a Son'a battlecruiser.

>

The Mercer's port wing cut into the Bangkok's saucer, killing the Intrepid 2's bridge crew as the Son'a battlecruiser turned towards the Starfleet-KDF fleet. "Lock on the Qo'noS One! Fire the isolytic burst cannon!" Gothmog ordered.

"That's inadvisable. At this range, we risk being caught in the rift," the XO warned.

"Shut up!" Gothmog drew his pistol-- the XO, correctly guessing his intentions, dived into an escape pod to avoid being shot. "Coward." Gothmog's pistol targeted the tactical officer. "Fire the isolytic burst cannon at Qo'noS One, or I'll have you executed."

An alarm warned Starbuck of the weapon powering up. "Don't let them fire the subspace weapon! Hit them hard, hit them with everything we have!" The Starfleet-KDF ships ignored the ex-Starfleet vessels in the FUCKUP fleet, concentrating fire on the Son'a battlecruisers.

"Sir, the isolytic burst cannon is overloading! I cannot vent the excess power! It's going to explode!" the tactical officer warned.

"Abandon ship!" Gothmog ran towards the captain's personal escape pod, crashed into the entry hatch, and broke his nose. "Ow!" The subahdar remembered the XO used that pod to save himself. "Fuck me!" he cursed as the isolytic burst cannon exploded, opening a rift in space-time that consumed the Mercer.

Warp and impulse systems strained against the rift's pull. Then the rift closed-- ships on both sides crashed into each other and the orbital defense stations, causing horrendous casualties.

"Ahhhh!" The Mercer's XO braced his arms and legs as the closing rift launched the captain's escape pod was towards God knows where. Then the pod stopped moving. "I'm alive?" Disruptor beams cut into the hatch, opening it to reveal a platoon of angry Klingons aiming weapons at the pod. The Son'a raised his hands. "I surrender," he said, proving he was the smartest man to serve in the entire FUCKUP fleet.

>>

The Mercer's XO "sang like a bird," telling the A-Team the secret base's location. The Starfleet-KDF fleet separated into two battle groups. B. A. commanded Battle Group One, which attacked the FUCKUP starbase. "You commies better get smart and surrender, or I'll kick your ass so hard, you'll chock on your own livers!" he hailed the base commander.

"Bandit, one, Son'a battlecruiser," the tactical officer reported its heading. "Sir, they're hailing us."

"Onscreen." B. A. frowned at Stilgar. "You Son'a guns better run-- I ain't giving up until the last commie is either in prison or in a coffin." The words "WARNING: SOONG NETWORK SECURITY HAS DETECTED AND BLOCKED AN INTRUSION ATTEMPT," appeared onscreen. "What is this jibba jabba?"

"The Son'a are trying to hack into the ship's computer," the tactical officer answered.

"They're trying to hack us? Then get your bat'leth and hack back!"

"Say again?"

"Get some warriors over there and kick that hacking Son'a guns' ass!" B. A. ordered.

>

Obeying Baracus' orders, Dakuan piloted the Yan-Isleth shuttle towards Stilgar's ship. The warriors frowned as "the Crazy" sang Klingon opera. One of them thought, 'How dare this half-human freak sing of our forefathers' battles?' as he crept towards the cockpit, planning to cut Dakuan's throat once they were aboard the Son'a battlecruiser.

"Ahhhh! The pink bunnies are all over me! Ahhhh!" Dakuan screamed, the shuttle rolling and looping as his hands and feet hammered the controls, trying to beat off the hallucinations.

The warrior froze, watching a pink bunny appear behind "the Crazy"-- then the bunny jumped up and bit off his head. "Ahhhh!" the Klingons screamed as his blood painted the shuttle interior. Dakuan's telepathy was linked to his psychokinesis-- the pink bunnies could inflict real injuries on those who saw them. The warriors were too terrified of the bunnies to notice the Son'a were shooting at them, but Dakuan's panicked maneuvers allowed the shuttle to remain unscathed as it flew into the hangar of Stilgar's ship.

Son'a warriors quickly surrounded the shuttle, set their disruptor rifles to KILL, and targeted the door, but they weren't desperate men-- they weren't prepared as the Yan-Isleth platoon burst through the door, the Klingons fleeing in terror from the bunnies and killing everyone in their way until they reached the bridge.

Stilgar turned to see the Yan-Isleth platoon burst through a wall, screaming in terror. "What?!" He didn't have time to draw his pistol before the Klingons trampled him to death, finally out of Dakuan's sphere of influence.

Without the Son'a battlecruiser's protection, Battle Group One quickly captured the FUCKUP starbase.

>

Cdre Global War On Terror Rice IX commanded Battle Group Two, which laid siege to Ba'ku, the FUCKUP capital. The surviving Redshirts, angry at being used as gimps, mutinied and surrendered the disguised Adm Berman to Cdre Rice as a peace offering. During his court martial, "President Roddenberry" ranted about Spock's betrayal of "his" vision. A counselor testified that Adm Berman suffered dissociative identity disorder. The judge ruled the FUCKUP leader not guilty by reason of insanity, and sentenced him to a psychiatric hospital, where Adm Berman would spend the rest of his life.

Spock successfully carried out the economic reforms, restoring a market economy and encouraging investment in now privatized industries. Federation citizens, initially suspicious of capitalism, accepted the reforms as their per capita income skyrocketed. Spock publicly said, "To be rich is glorious," quoting 20th century reformer Deng Xiaoping to encourage citizens to work harder, making the Federation stronger as they made themselves wealthier.

The surviving new humans, however, refused to give up their cause. Adm Brin led these die-hards on raids against isolated colonies, capturing supplies to sustain their war efforts. In reaction, Starfleet and the KDF adopted Gonghe military doctrines-- minefields were deployed, orbital defense stations were built, marines and warriors were garrisoned to defend these colonies.

As the raids became counterproductive due to heavy casualties inflicted on the new human raiding parties, Adm Brin decided to simply conquer and occupy a colony, building it up to be the new humans' new base of operations. 'The traitor Spock's will be punished for corrupting the Federation with capitalist greed,' he swore as the CSS Bellerophon, one of two surviving FUCKUP vessels, sailed through a sparsely populated sector in Federation space.

>>

Brigadier Zaia watched women warriors teach firearms safety and rifle marksmanship to citizens of Australis, a Federation colony near the Zeon border. "How many do we have left?"

"3,209,021 MP30s, 4,290,017 GLOCK 44s, and 2,056,108 GLOCK 50s left to sell," Lieutenant Junior Grade Jezebel answered.

"Sigh." Zaia agreed to buy a large number of weapons from GLOCK in exchange for an escaped sex offender who was captured by the Gonghe military. The Duchess of Zeon was originally thrilled to learn of the mission's success-- then she realized if every woman in the Principality received four pistols and two submachine guns, millions of weapons would still gather dust in the armories, a huge waste of money. Then the new human terrorists began attacking those perceived as "bourgeoisie"-- Zaia was sent on a "diplomatic mission" to sell the excess guns to terrified Federation citizens. It wasn't easy-- few Federation citizens had money before Spock's reforms were carried out, so Zaia had to barter goods for the guns and then sail to Klingon space to sell those goods.

"Cheer up! We are making a profit," Jezebel noted.

"For how long? It's only a matter of time before Starfleet, the Klingons, or some mercenary who masturbates whenever she uses weapons of mass destruction, finally captures Admiral Brin and his phallic compensators." Zaia's combadge beeped. "Zaia."

"Mistress, I detect one Prometheus class battlecruiser, one Intrepid 2 class assault cruiser exiting warp-- it's the new human raiders!" Sakura Sulu, the ZSS Burdizzo's tactical officer, reported.

"Jezebel, get our women and the Australians to the bomb shelter! I'm returning to the ship!"

"Yes, Mistress!" Jezebel sprinted to the firing range.

"Emergency beam up!" Zaia's lover faded out of sight to be replaced by the Burdizzo's transporter operator. "Battle stations!" Zaia sprinted into the bridge. "Enemy status!"

"Mistress, the tactical cruiser is approaching our position-- they're engaging the multi-vector assault mode," Sakura reported. "Mistress, I believe their objective is the shipyard," where the Burdizzo was docked.

"Mistress, they're hailing us," the helmswoman reported.

"Onscreen."

The FUCKUP captain wolf whistled. "Hey, Baby! What's a pretty girl like you doing in this part of the galaxy?"

'About to castrate you and sodomize you with your own severed penis.' "I just wanna have fun." Zaia giggled like a bimbo, playing with her hair to signal, 'Lock on the bridge. Fire DIKEs and torpedoes on my command.' "What are you doing here?"

"We're gonna takeover this planet. Why don't you beam over and be my woman? That's better than getting drafted to work in the factories or thrown at the traitor Marine Corps as cannon fodder."

"Hee hee! Sure! Lower your shields so I can beam over!"

"Mistress, the tactical cruiser is lowering shields," Sakura reported.

Zaia signaled, 'Fire.' "Shields!" she ordered as the rebuilt Visionrazor's saucer exploded, throwing ablative armor plates at the Burdizzo. "Hang up." The helmswoman ended communications with the CSS Visionrazor Junior. "Get us out of here, full impulse."

"Mistress, the tactical cruiser's remaining sections are pursuing us," Sakura warned.

"Execute evasive maneuver Dixie Chick Four on my command." Zaia braced herself as the Burdizzo shook from the Visionrazor Junior's shots. "Execute!" The assault cruiser suddenly decelerated and "somersaulted" to aim its forward-firing weapons at the pursuing sections. "Fire!"

>

In the bomb shelter, Jezebel and the women warriors rolled up magazines, stacking them in the corridor to provide cover for the machine gun crews-- they didn't have time to fill sandbags for this purpose.

"Now that you've taken away our porno mags, would you mind going topless so we have something nice to look at?" a man suggested.

Jezebel drew her Mauser C96A9 pistol and targeted the man's groin. "No."

The man raised his hands to surrender. "Okay, no problem. Uh, I got to use the loo," toilet. "Bye."

A mask lowered from Jezebel's crown to protect her face as the blast door glowed-- the new humans were using phasers to cut though the metal. "Here they come." The women warriors took cover and set their weapons from SAFE to FIRE.

>

Outside the shelter, Adm Brin was pissed. The FUCKUP marines carelessly used their phasers on the blast door, which reflected heat like a frying pan-- the stench of burning flesh filled the air. "Don't be so damn trigger-happy! You're cooking yourselves!" The surviving marines sizzled in reply. "Brin to Bellerophon, lock on the marines and beam them to sickbay." He waited for the metal to cool before ordering the Bellerophon's disembarked crewmembers to try.

The new humans scanned the door, discussed their readings, proposed modifying a tricorder to deactivate the locks, modified the tricorder to emit technobabble, screamed when the modified tricorder exploded, evacuated the wounded, returned to scan the door again, realized the locks were mechanical and unaffected by technobabble, proposed modifying another tricorder to emit technobabble-babble, modified another tricorder, and screamed again when the other tricorder exploded. "Fuck it! I'm going back to the ship and replicating a ton of ultritium to blow down this piece of shit!" Ensign Andrew Joshua Talon declared.

"No, the use of chemical explosives is--"

Ens Talon angrily turned to Adm Brin. "Do you wanna get in there?!"

"Yes, but not at the expense of our--"

Ens Talon drew his phaser and targeted Adm Brin's head. "If that sentence ends with, 'ideals,' I'm gonna kill you."

"Ensign Talon, how dare you display such militaristic behavior?! You're betraying the ideals--"

Ens Talon shot and killed Adm Brin. "Now I'm leader of the new humans, and I say we replicate a ton of ultritium, blow down the blast door to get in that bomb shelter, kill all the men and rape the women. Anyone else wanna bullshit about our ideals?" The other new humans were too scared to object. "Good." Ens Talon stomped towards the grounded Bellerophon.

>

An explosion filled the corridor with smoke. 'What kept them?' Jezebel and the women warriors aimed L7A2 machine guns, L1A1 rifles, and MP30s at waist level. "Hold... hold..." Ens Talon stepped out of the smoke, leading new humans towards the machine gun nest. "Fire!"

Ens Talon felt a full metal jacket bullet tear off his scrotum. "Ahhhh!" He fell on his back, dodging the bullets flying overhead to disembowel and dismember the new humans behind him. Survivors of the first volley laid on the floor, using the severed legs of their comrades as cover, and returned fire.

"Ah!" Jezebel cried as a near miss scorched her black leather gloves. "Die already!" She threw a grenade to kill the new human marksman.

"Women are defending the bomb shelter! Come on, let's charge in there and rape them!" someone shouted.

Australian men were pissed at this insult to their masculinity, while the women were pissed at this threat. "Let's get 'em!" They leaned into the corridor to fire 7 x 30 mm, 10.9 x 32.8 mm R, and 12.7 x 32.6 mm rounds at the new humans.

An APEX bullet exploded in front of the machine gun nest-- shrapnel scratched Jezebel's mask. The woman warrior looked back at the Australian man who fired the round. "Watch where you're pointing that thing! You're not in the Gonghe Army-- you don't have a tactical suit protecting you from your own explosive bullets!" An APEX bullet hit the corridor wall, exploded instead of ricocheting, and killed the man who fired the round. 'It's a miracle the human race survived when men kept killing themselves with their own stupidity,' she thought, turning to shoot another new human.

"Run away! Run away!" The surviving new humans ran out of the shelter-- another explosion threw them back in.

"Damn! The new humans have artillery!" Then Jezebel heard the words "Strength in honor! Honor in victory!" echo in the corridor. "What in hell?!"

"Is that the giant robot that destroyed the Borg ship over Risa?" someone asked.

"Jezebel!"

The woman warrior traded her C96A9 for a L1A1, using the rifle-mounted tricorder to scan the corridor. "Zaia!"

The brigadier led a platoon into the shelter, the women warriors stepping around corpses, severed legs, and spilled guts.

"Bitch!" Ens Talon was disabling the safety mechanisms so his phaser could overload, becoming an improvised grenade.

Zaia fired a 7.63 x 25 mm round at Ens Talon's head, executing him. "Thank Cybele you're alive!" She holstered her C96A9 and embraced her lover.

"What happened out there?" Jezebel asked.

"We destroyed the tactical cruiser, but overloaded our capacitors during the battle. While we were repairing the ship, the robot Jean-Luc Picard appeared and destroyed the Intrepid 2. I feared for your safety-- the robot cut through tritanium like it was lunchmeat!"

"Is it...?"

"The robot disappeared after it gave a speech. The Goddess knows where it went."

"I pray it's not in Zeon space." Jezebel shivered at the damage the robot could cause.

The Burdizzo's mission was extended as the women warriors searched for clues on the giant robot, but none were found. Fortunately for Zaia, reports of the new humans' attempt to conquer Australis sustained demand for self-defense weapons, allowing her to sell the remaining guns. Spock later presented the Burdizzo's crew with the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor in gratitude for their role in the Battle of Australis. The women warriors returned to the Principality with honor and a shipload of gold-pressed latinum.

>

Not the end.

Sidewinder wrote this 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' fanfic in 2006, based on the story by Darth Fanboy, Falkenhorst, and MKSheppard-- itself based on stories by Gene Roddenberry. The new A-Team is based on characters created by Glen A. Larson, Frank Lupo, and Stephen J. Cannell.

In case anyone's curious, CSS means Communist Starship.

>

"What do you think?" Sidewinder asked.

Fanboy, Falkenhorst, and Mark Sheppard frowned at the movie screen. "Too much gay sex, not enough hetero." "Yeah, I wanna see a man's penis in a woman's vagina." "Or her ass."

"No problem, just give me another day to film it."

[Singular Quartet]

Yeah, the pron got cut off.

[Sidewinder]

Yeah, the pron got cut off.

Sorry about that. Here's the complete scene:

"What do you think?" Sidewinder asked.

Fanboy, Falkenhorst, and Mark Sheppard frowned at the movie screen. "Too much gay sex, not enough hetero." "Yeah, I wanna see a man's penis in a woman's vagina." "Or her ass."

"No problem, just give me another day to film it."

>

Trigga'Happi sat on a hospital bed, "debriefing" Lt Lucy Janeway, the Starfleet Intelligence officer who warned Cdre Rice about Operation Perceived Brilliance. "In Kahless' name, you're tight!" the Klingon growled, his hands squeezing Lucy's breasts as the woman impaled herself on his penis.

"Oh! Yes! Fuck my ass! Ah!" Lucy cried.

The EMH Mark IV, based on 20th century actress Kiko Wu and programmed to relieve crewmembers' stress on long-term missions, self-activated and put her lips around Lucy's clitoris.

"Ah! Oh! I'm coming! Ah!" Lucy had another orgasm when the holographic woman fingered her vagina.

The EMH showered Lucy's belly with kisses, her left hand still playing with the woman's genitals, until her lips found Lucy's left nipple. She smiled as she suckled the woman, looking up to see Lucy's face contort in pleasure.

"Argh! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna pump your ass full of semen!" Trigga'Happi roared.

"No! Oh! Don't stop! Ah! Fucking me!"

A second EMH was activated to help the Klingon by gently squeezing his scrotum to prevent sperm from moving through the vas deferens, performing anilingus on Trigga'Happi as the first EMH pinched Lucy's clit.

"Ahhhh!"

>

Fanboy, Falk, and Shep smiled, watching Lucy have another orgasm. "Much better."

[Darth Fanboy]

Kamin Porno Fanfic
Chapter 15:
The Violation of Miles O'Brien

By Kamin and Kamin, with input from Kamin

Deep Space Nine

"Fuck, what a day...another 12 hour shift finished and another 40 ounces drained."

Chief Miles O'Brien tossed the empty bottle over the railing, hitting a pedestrian in the back of the head in the
process. He then rounded the corner to his own domicile. Back when Miles O'Brien served on the front lines
of the Federation-Cardassian "conflict" he had seen everything he thought he could possibly see. Friends
hideously disfigured by Cardassian energy fire, comrades flung into space during hull breaches, enemy
and allied corpses rotting beneath the sun covered in festering maggots.

(Of course this was all classified to help keep up the Starfleet image of "sterile warfare").

Like his father and his father before him and his father before him...etc...etc, there was nothing that could
faze the Chief so long as he had a bottle of scotch and a good woman to let out the excess anger on.
He told Keiko all about the horrible atrocities he committed, including the time he and his squad found a lone
Cardie scout on a routine patrol and exacted a little revenge for a few buddies that died the previous day.
In fact, Miles skill kept his "trophy rib" in a small chest under his bed.

His reason for telling her? So that she could look in the mirror after being disciplined just to realize how
good she had it. Black eyes, bruises, even the occasional busted lip, those were nothing compared to the
horrors of war. And as he began opening the door to his quarters he figured that he would remind her again
of how good she had it. Maybe it was his drunken stupor, or maybe it was the fatigue after a long day of work.
But as soon as Miles walked through the door, he felt a dull pain in the top of his head, and then suddenly
the world was black.

Keiko stood over her tormentor, for their entire marriage she had been bullied, victimized, and treated like
dirt. Miles always spoke about how his daddy kept "his old buzzard" in line. Well it was finally time to break
the cycle. It was in her garden that she had begun growing the oddly shaped plants. At first she just wanted
to see how selecting traits could give her various shapes, and then as her research progressed she had
discovered how to make the plants mold as she saw fit. In time she had perfected a perfect replica of the
Human penis with cucumber, carrot, and potato variations.

She knew the idea would make her impossibly rich, and she was even able to use the cucumber to compensate
for Miles' pathetic manhood. Keiko had long been unhappy with her sex life, on the Enterprise she had managed
to get enhancing supplements and instruments from that pervert Dr. Crusher but on Deep Space Nine, she had no
such luck. When she confronted Miles about her idea for a biological sex toy business with no need for mechanical
industry and no waste, she was met with yet another beating.

"No wife is going to use such things," he roared, "and if I catch you working on them, I'll crack some bloody
sense into your skull! You stay out of that lab, woman."

That had been the last straw for Keiko. Working in the lab, with all of its various plants and phallic potential
was her entire life. She knew Miles had access to the replicators and he would know if she touched them
to make something to defend herself. But she wouldn't need them, because she had the perfect plan.

She snuck off to the lab while Miles was on shift and perfected the ultimate weapon.

A meter long cucumber dildo which she crafted specifically to take out her husband, and he'd
have no way of tracking it.

Miles had said that he had to "realign the quantum regulator in the coaxial shutter tubes" today. Which was
his way of saying that once he got all of the work orders out of the way, he was going to sit in an access hatch,
shut off his communicator and get hammered until his shift ended or someone came to find him. This gave her
the opportunity she needed to take him out.

Then she walked out into the hallway and turned on teh transporters. Her cargoes were loaded intoz the shuttels and they were off like a rocket to go to the place. IT was a tupogh jurney but thens the spaceships arrvied and starteds shootinmgs each other. There was an EXPLSION and sudenly all teh lights went out....

*AHEM*

Kamin turned away from his computer and looked behind him, only to be crushed with mortal embarassment as he copy-pasted large swaths of fanfiction into the "New post" window on spacebattles.com without any pants on. His seventh grade teacher had politely remarked on his last exam that his writing needed to improve. What better way to improve, he though, than to take from anonymous others on the internet?

Standing behind him now was a large goonish looking man carrying a chainsaw with a belt made from the bleached skulls of slain gnomes. On his face he wore a bloody hockey mask and he smelled of Gin and Jagermeister.

"Kamin, do you know who I am?"

Kamin gulped loudly. "Th...th....the tooth fairy?"

The large man shook his head slowly, menacingly. "No, try again."

Kamin stuttered again, he at least gave the works that he stole a cursory glance. "D..D..Darth Fanboy?"

"No, but you're getting warmer...I'm the Ghost of Fanfiction! Do you know why I'm here?"

Before Kamin could answer the Ghost had grabbed the handaxe from his belt and smashed it into the side of Kamin's face with the blunt end. "Because you sir, are a fucker. A fucker, and a thief."

Kamin pawed his hands at the ground, he tried vainly to pick up his teeth hoping that his original guess was correct and this was the Tooth Fairy on crack. He did not want to face the consequences of his actions stealing fanfiction. HIs blood slicked hands barely managed to pick up a cracked molar and a bicuspid before he was hit in the back of the head by the same axe and stuffed unconscious into a burlap bag.

Fanboy wrapped the bag with a pretty ribbon he had stolen from some gift shop while shoplifting Yankee Candles for sale in the future and then slipped back into the dimensional rift. Dalton Prime would be sending the Omniversal Fanfic Police for this punk any minute now, but he had to get at least one beating in.

HE took some satisfaction knowing that the Fanfic Police would carry out a brutal sentence, that would provide excellent filler for a later chapter.

[Sidewinder]

Here are possible titles for 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' chapters. They were originally for subchapters in the 'Love Guns' fanfic fanfic, but I haven't been able to use them due to writer's block.

A NEW HOLE
THE ASSHOLE PLUGGED UP
RETURN OF THE JACKASS
HARD-ON TO THE ASSHOLE
DORK FORCE RISING
THE LAST CUM SHOT

As you can see, they're parodies of the titles to 'Star Wars' Episodes IV to VI and the Thrawn Trilogy. Let me know if anyone has a story idea to go with the titles.

[Darth Fanboy]

First new UPF of 2007, a continuation of the Fanboy Origin Chapter while Shep still plugs away at the main arc.

THE FRONT LINES OF EXMODEUS THREE

The only thing escalating in the Exmodeus system quicker than the fighting is the body count, as thousands of Romulan and Jem Hadar die by the day. With the acquisition of Jem Hadar cloning technology and the Dominion outpost on the eighth planet, Shinzon's fleet has ripped its way through the Dominion lines and has begun landing forces on Exmodeus VIII.

The key to the Romulans' success has been the hired Mercenary brigade, formally known as the 5th Xenobatallion of the Romulan Star Empire. But even the famed "Army of Shadows" has suffered terrible casualties. From the conquest of Exmodeus VIII to the landing operations on Exmodeus III, nearly thirty percent of their number have been killed by the Dominion.

THe Dominion are now fighting a two front battle,with the Romulans and with the Borg Survivors of the crash site, who have discovered a way to overcome the Jem'HAdar Addiction to Ketracel White and have begun assimilating them into new warrior drones.

The army has been forced to set up an encampment several kilometers south of the main Dominion Headquarters, protected from Orbital Bombardment by camoflaguing targeting sensor scramblers and the ever-present Romulan Fleet. The life of a soldier is perilous, but at least two of the hired Mercs have discovered a way to pass the time in between battles.

A terrible electrical storm has forced both sides to seek shelter, even the hardened killer Fanboy and his estranged wife Fangirl are forced into a weather-proofed survival tent...



On very few worlds could the weather be described as deafening. But the powerful storms of the Exmodeus system raged harder than most anywhere else in known space. Lightning blasted and the wind howled as the rain beat down, it was a Ferengi's worst nightmare, and several of the multitude of species working for the 5th Xenobatallion had been forced to adorn themselves with gear normally designed to blunt attacks by sonic weaponry.

But Fanboy and Fangirl hardly noticed. The unique couple were filled with adrenaline after the latest battle, Fanboy had expended all of his remaining ammunition and power packs and had been forced to use a large knife modeled on the ancient Kukuri Knives used by the Gurkhas of 20th century Earth. He had gutted two Jem Hadar, which when added to the dozen or so that he had shot, had raised his personal kill total above the century mark. Fangirl had only killed on Jem Hadar, but had been part of an infiltration team that sabotaged several Dominion transporters. By the time the Dominion techs had figured it out, they had mishandled and inadvertantly destroyed several Jem Hadar combat units and a significant amount of military equipment.

Emboldened by their victory, and vulnerable to their own predisposition towards base animal behavior, they had camped their tent a fair distance away from the other mercenaries. A swig each from Fanboy's flask of Romulan Ale was all it took for the couple to fall into each other's arms. Their arousal was such that they had decided to skip foreplay.


Fanboy was lying on his back, his hands on Fangirl's hips as she rode him cowgirl style. Her hands gripping and caressing her breasts as she gyrated upon him. Her sex contracting around him as she clenched her body, eliciting a deep moan from her partner. Fanboy in turn raised his hand to her chest and firmly began to rub her right nipple around the piercing. This caused her to gasp and her hips began to rock back and forth. His cock was angled perfectly against her clit, and she took full advantage of it, grinding it against his shaft as his head drove deep inside of her.

They stopped, only briefly, to allow Fanboy to sit up and to let Fangirl wrap her legs around his waist. She reconnected with him and moaned as he thrust upwards into her. As he held her tightly against him her breasts pressed into him and she wrapped her arms around his body. She began to dig her nails into his back, causing him to fuck her harder. Sensing his arousal, she began to claw into his back, breaking his flesh and driving him wild. He tightened his grip and penetrated her deeper than ever.

The instense pleasure was too much for her. Her tight ass began rising and falling with speed as her body was pushed closer to climax. Before long her body began to spasm and shiver as her orgasm crashed over her like a wave. The two collapsed together on their air mattress with him lying down and her on top of him.

She collapsed onto her lover, his erect phallus still inside of her, she cuddled closer too him and buried her head in his chest, panting for air.

"Sweet fucking christ I haven't came that hard in ages. You're still the best." She purred.

"And you still have the finest curves in any quadrant."

She smirked as she rolled over to his side, tenderly sliding off of him, as she straddled his side she began to tenderly stroke him with her fingertips, massaging the engorged flesh with her fingertips from the base to the tip.

"If that's true lover, then why haven't you come yet?"

"That's easy." He sat up slightly, meeting her gaze with the same stare he had used to convince her to marry him in the first place. "Because I'm not finished. I'm not going to waste time on this rock waiting to die when I could be having my way with the most beautiful woman i've ever seen."

"Oh I see how it is," she paused to give his throbbing erection a kiss, she leaned over and finished the kiss with a slow deliberate swirl of her tongue. A move that caused Fanboy to exhale deeply and shudder beneath her. "I've had three orgasms, and yet you still want to have your way with me."

"Yes."

"And what would you do to have it?" she said as she got on her knees and crawled on all fours.

"Anything." He said in a low hushed voice, completely overtaken with lust.

Fangirl turned away from him and planted her arms firmly onto the air mattress. She wiggled her backside at him, compelling him to take her from behind. She turned her head to look behind her, "Lucky for you i'm insatiable tonight. This could be our last time."

The gravity of Fangirl's words were lost on Fanboy as he knelt behind her, placing his hands firmly on her hips and positioning himself inside of her.

The head of his cock explored her labia, using his right hand to grip himself, he used his shaft like a tool. Rubbing the soft head against her clit. She had always enjoyed being teased, he pressed the tip against her before sliding it inside of her. The wet, warm feeling of her pussy was intoxicating to Fanboy. His motion was slow at first, but before long he picked up his pace, his hands firmly on her hips and holding her perfectly in place. His body slapped against hers as he went harder and faster.

Fangirl was becoming fatigued but was enjoying herself too much to stop. In an attempt to save her energy she dropped her position slightly by lowering herself onto her elbow and leaning her head into a pillow. This caused her ass to rise higher, allowing Fanboy to fuck her even deeper.

"Oh god that feels so good..." She moaned, her hands gripping the pillow tighter.

Emboldened by her praise, Fanboy changed his grip, bracing her against him by clutching her left shoulder. He then used his right hand to deliver a powerful slap to her ass before gripping it tightly with the full hand. His body rocked against hers, causing her breasts to sway back and forth in rhythm with his thrusts.

"d..." She moaned. "...please Harder!"

He obliged her, pulling his hips back far enough that he nearly slid out of her before driving back into her. She moaned loud, and her breathing became frantic.

She was shocked when she felt Fanboy lean in over he, his pace softened. BEfore she could ask why however he had pulled her up onto his knees, he clutched his hands tightly over he breasts and squeezed them, the soft flesh of her ample bosom spilling through his fingers as he continued to fuck her from behind. she leaned her head back and began taunting him. She whispered, "That's it stud, fuck me, fuck me hard. I want you to come inside of me."

That was all Fanboy needed to hear, they tilted their heads towards each other and shared an intense, passionate kiss. As their tongues became entwined Fanboy lost his control and his moan echoed into her own mouth. They kissed and licked at each others lips feverishly as Fanboy's cock pounded Fangirl's cunt until finally he could hold back no more.

"Oh Christ i'm coming!"

His ecstacy hit her like a clap of thunder, triggering another staggering climax inside of her. With the last of their strength, they ground their bodies together in desperation in an attempt to burn the last of their sexual energy.

Finally satisfied, Fanboy gingerly pulled himself out of Fangirl. Too tired to even keep their eyes opened or even speak, they shared another kiss and lay down together on the air mattress. The humidity of the storm made blankets or any other type of covering impractical. Fangirl fell asleep in Fanboy's arms. Before his own eyelids gave in, he managed to mutter three barely audible words into her ear.

Silently, he vowed never to be apart from her again.


Dominion HQ

"I don't understand, we know where the Romulan camps are, why don't you Jem'Hadar do what you were bred to do and destroy them!"

Dizel was growing desperated. Although his underpowered garrison had managed to hold out in time for reinforcements to arrive, his was still a position under siege. To make matters worse, he had just recently been presented with the first evidence that there were still Borg alive and well inside the wreckage of the cube.

"An attack in these conditions would be a waste of time." Explained Third Triko'owa, currently the senior Jem'Hadar in charge of defending the outpost.

Dizel huffed. "I never thought you Jem'Hadar were such cowards. Not even your predecessors."

That had raised a few of Third Koma'aka's scales. Both the First and Second of his unit had died in fruitless attacks against Romulan-fortified positions. Attacks that had been needless and did not serve to defend the installations he had been charged with protecting. Dizel was a coward trying to put as many bodies between him and the enemy's weapons, that much was clear.

"The Jem'Hadar will fight any battle, so long as it serves our mission. We have been charged with defending this base by the Founders, if we send out our forces to attack now the base will be vulnerable. If the Koma'aka unit were made availiable then perhaps we might..."

"The Koma'aka unit is no more." Dizel interrupted, anger apparent in his voice. "You will have to make do with what you have." Dizel sighed, "As soon as you've gathered your forces, begin your attack."

Triko'owa left Dizel's office without a word. His suspicions had been confirmed, these mysterious Borg must still be alive within the cube wreckage. Triko'owa had only seen scant images on these Borg, and few Jem'Hadar had ever seen one. But they were quite dangerous, possibly even more so that the looming mercenary army. twelve units, including the senior Koma'aka unit had gone into that cube and never returned. To make matters worse, Dizel was now sending a sizeable portion of his forces into a battle with little chance of success while another enemy gained strength right on their doorstep.

"Stupid Vorta." Triko'owa though as he began assessing his combat roster.

[Redleader34]

Nice work, and I agree with Ace's postion

[Setzer]

I see you've listened to requests for pure erotica.

[Darth Fanboy]

Bridge of the Command Ship Scythe

"Admiral Shinzon! Surface scans show that a Dominion force is heading right for the mercenary encampment!" The Reman bridge officer yelled from his post.

Shinzon rose from his command console and averted his gaze from the fleet analysis he had been studying.

"Shall we contact the troop commanders?" The officer asked. "There are a significant number of Romulan troops alongside the mercenaries, our supporters..."

Shinzon raised his hand in a dismissive gesture to interrupt. "Our supporters do not know of what is transpirin, and besides, i'd be more likely to warn them if there weren't any Romulans." The Human Admiral then turned to his assistant Vkruk. "The Dominion must be incredibly desperate if they are moving on an entrenched enemy camp through inclement weather without any sort of support."

"Either that or incredibly stupid." Vkruk said, menacingly. "The war goes badly for them, however, there is something terribly strange from the Dominion Camp that I am unsure of.

Shinzon had learned to trust and rely in his confidant's mental abilities. "Dissention in the ranks?"

"No, that would be quite easy to sense," Vkruk stepped forward to view the storm blanketed surface of Exmodeus. "This is much more difficult, there is almost no emotion or feeling at all. NOrmally the Jem Hadar are in a constant state of latent anger, if not full blown range." Vkruk turned back to the Admiral, his expression was that of a Reman frown. "It may have something to do with the Borg Cube."

Shinzon's stomach turned. He was not prepared to deal with the Borg, not with the Dominion staring him right in the face. His plans had been too carefully set to risk against the two strongest powers in the known galaxy. "What is the status of the cube?"

"We have been unable to complete any recent scanning of the crash site, but we have detected no transmissions leaving this system on known Borg frequencies, and no transmissions at all save for our own and what few the Dominion manages to get past our jamming.

"HOnored Shinzon!" came the bridge officer's voice again. "Dominion Forces have tripped the camp's perimeter alarm, the transmission is garbled, but the battle has commenced.

"Find a way to work around that storm and then feed the data to my console!" Shinzon commanded. "This should prove to be quite entertaining." HE said with a sly grin on his face as he peered over at Vkruk. "Redouble your efforts to step up the jamming. If there are active Borg on the planet then we must make damn sure that they don't interfere.

Vkruk looked at Shinzon, puzzled by the sudden outburst, but the Admiral noticed too soon and was quick to respond. "Stay out of my mind Vkruk. I am my own man and there is nothing that is going to keep us from taking this system and everything in it that we need to conquer the entire Romulan Empire!"

It had been enough to dissuade Vkruk, who left in haste. But not enough to console his self. Deep down inside of him there was something inside Shinzon that was deathly afraid of the Borg.

He had read the files on what the Romulans had dubbed "The Battle of Sol". The battle had raged across the worlds of the Human's home system of planets, and central to that battle was Shinzon's genetic template. The reports gathered by the Tal'Shiar were chilling.

" I have never seen these things before, and yet they haunt me. Picard...what did they do to you?

Perimeter of the 5th Xenobatallion Encampment

Romulan sentries are typically quite good at their job, their dilligence and attentiveness being two holdovers of their Vulcan ancestry. With watchful eyes they scanned the horizons from their stations at the camp's perimeter.

But unfortunately for the Romulans, Jem'Hadar infiltrators were also excellent at their jobs, and their genetically enforced obedience had made them quite dilligent as well in the name of the Founders of the Dominion. The Jem'Hadar knew full well that the attack they were executing was made in ignorant haste. Their Vorta commander Dizel was growing more desperate by the day to regain control of his world. Obediently, they had marched out of their camp and into what would prove to be a horrible fire. THe low morale was never a factor with the battle-hardened soldiers, and for several units it had actually motivated them to fight harder. Those motivated included the lead units that were charged with eliminating sentries. They waited, poised in the Darkness until the electrical storms flared up enough to cause a disruption in the Romulan's scanning equipment. They would then creep in close to the location, sometimes crawling low over jagged rocks just to get snipers in close enough. One group of Jem'Hadar who had lost their unit sniper in a previous battle managed to get in close enough to a pair of Romulan guards to spit on them. Instead of spitting however, they overran the station, grabbing both of the guards and silencing them by restrainging their limbs and clamping powerful hands over their mouths. One of the Romulans put up enough of a fight that his Jem'Hadar kidnappers were forced to snap his neck. The other was dragged behind a rock formation beyond the gaze of any other Romulan sentries. He was then forcibly fed some of the Jem Hadar's precious Ketracel white, which kept him alert and conscious as two of the more sadistic Jem Hadar gutted him alive as they waited for word to commence the attack.

When the order game, huge gaps in the perimeter allowed hundreds of Jem Hadar to rush into the secure zone of the camp unimpeded, giving them a fighting chance. Romulans and Mercenaries that had taken the opportunity to rest while the weather raged around them were rudely awakened to the fact that War never took a time out. Many died before they could even hoist their weapon, but enough managed to resist that the alarm sounded and the order to fight back spread through the camp.

Fanboy was still awake, unable to sleep after enjoying a long overdue fuck. His wife curled up next to him for the first time in a long time. For a time he had thought himself over her, but now the desire was as fierce as ever. She ignited fires within him, sriving his lust and passion beyond what he thought was humanly possible.

The sounds of alarm klaxons mixed with disruptor fire awakened his senses as if he had been struck by Exmodean lightning, leaping to his feet, he had only enough time to throw on some pants and slap on some of his battle equipment when he heard the first shot impact near his tent.

"Get up." He shook Fangril's shoulder as she lay curled up on the mattress. She rubbed her hand on her face and sneered at him with her hair partially hanging in front of her face.

"Some pillow talk there lover, if you want to have me again you could at least wait until i'm awake."

He ignored her sarcasm and handed her one of his recharged disruptors. "The camp is under attack, i'll draw the fire away from the tent so you can arm yourself. When we're done killing these spikefaces for ruining our morning I'll make you some breakfast."

Fanboy darted out of the tent and made it all of four steps before he was spear tackled by an incredibly angry Jem'Hadar. He raised his guard just in time to block a series of punches to his face. As the Jem'Hadar raised his hands for an axehandle smash that would have surely crushed Fanboy's skull, the merc managed to grab a rock within his reach and crash it violently into his attacker's face. The Jem Hadar turned but was felled in one shot but Fanboy, who had drawn his fifty caliber Desert Eagle.

"Fuck if bullets aren't expensive enough already to be wasting on you Jemmie sons of bitches." Fanboy cursed before realizing that the Jem'Hadar he had just killed did not even have a weapon. "Low on equipment eh? Looks like the Dominion armory needs to get restocked."

Fanboy turned as he heard the Jem'Hadar battle cry behind him. A pair of eager Jem'HAdar were ready to take on this beast from another quadrant who had just killed their brother, without even bothering to line up their shots they began to fire, forcing Fanboy to dive for cover behind one of what fanboy suspected were millions of large shuttle sized rocks on the planet. Fanboy leaned out slightly from behind his cover and fired a shot that drilled right into the lead Jem'Hadar's center of mass. Causing him to fall to the ground in tremendous pain. The second one, recognizing the mistake of his dying comrade, dove behind cover as well.

That had proved to be a completely different fatal mistake as the rock suddenly exploded. Jagged bits of stone and fragmentation from Fangirl's grenade had been mercilessly effective, and body parts of the two Jem'HAdar were strewn about the area.

"Oh he blowed up good. You'd think the Dominion would breed these guys smarter." She laughed

"I dunno," Fanboy mused. "They're still way ahead of your average Starfeet pajama clad toy soldier." He paused to turn and look at her. She was barely dressed save for her underwear, an ammo belt, and a pair of boots with knives sheathed in each boot. In her arms she hefted a M4A1 Rifle from Fanboy's personal collection with an added m203 Grenade launcher from hers.

"When we get off this stupid rock. You have to wear that again for me sometime."

"I'll think about it if you let me keep the gun."

Before Fanboy could deliver his sarcastic remark, she was already screaming at him to dive for cover. At that very same moment, the Jem'Hadar attack fighter began streaking right at them.



Author's note: This chapter now replaces the ill-designed '1n73RLUD3', thanks for staying interested!

[Darth Fanboy]

Oh...my...science.....

50,000!

[Darth Fanboy]

UPF Episode -1: Part VI


Standing in line to see the show tonight

and theres a light on...Heavy glow

By the way I tried to say i'd be there... waiting for...

"You love me?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I dunno."

"Come on, i'm being serious."

"So am I."

"Okay, if you can't tell me why, at least tell me for how long."

"....."

"Damnit! First you come into the club where i'm working and get into a fistfight with a guy who was trying to grope me, then you convince me that there's more money smuggling outside of civilized space, and then you stab my old boss in the face with an icepick because he tried to keep me from leaving! IS it a crime that I want to know why you think i'm so important?"

"....."

"Fine. I can play the quiet game too."

[several minutes pass]

".....when I first saw your face."

"Oh? The masked man speaks!"

"I can't explain any of your questions. I can't even explain why I feel the way I do. But I do feel this way, and I will always protect you."

"D....I love you too."


5th Xenobatallion Encampment, Exmodeus III

"GET DOWN!" Fanboy screamed at the top of his lungs. He hurled his body towards Fangirl and pushed her out of the way as the attack fighter's guns roared to life. The initial strafe missed, but Fanboy knew that the pilot wouldn't miss another opportunity.

That was, if he had another opportunity. The raging storm above his craft was already wreaking havoc on the small fighter's snesor systems, and Fanboy wondered exactly how or why the fighter was allowed to take off.

"They must be desperate!" Fangirl yelled as she took aim with her rifle, hoping that he could score a lucky shot with the added grenade launcher. It would not be necessary, as a terrible bolt of lightning struck the fighter's left nacelle, sending it careening into a nearby mountain.

"Hopefully that's the last of them, you know Shinzon won't send any Scorpions down to back us up while this storm is on."

"Lover, save the small talk for after we've gotten these scaly cloned motherfuckers out of our love nest."

"True, oh that reminds me, we can now cross the Beta Quadrant off our list."

"Oh yeah that's right. Just one trip to the Delta quadrant and we'll have had freaky sex in all four of them! Although i'm still not sure the Gamma Quadrant counts."

"Hey, you and I both climaxed as soon as that runabout we stole exited into realspace on the other side. That counts."


The Jem'Hadar had great intial success, but once the alarms had started to ring and the inhabitants of the camp began to mobilize, the failure of the attacks imminent. The guards of the inner perimeter were able to set up Turret-mounted heavy disruptors and sealed off all of the accesible paths into the center of the camp at chokepoints. Off Duty Mercenaries eager to add to their paychecks actively hunted down and sought out Jem'Hadar in roving mobs, turning predators into prey. Despite this incredible setback, there was still one last chance for the Dominion to attain at least a semblance of victory.

A squad of Jem'Hadar scouts had taken up a position on a small cliff overlooking down into the camp's temporary administrative area. The Romulan commanders had thought it to be the most fortified place in the area, but Fanboy and several of the mercs avoided it like and infectious disease. It was situated in a low crevice which protected it well from ground troops so long as they didn't occupy the ridges above it. Now instead of a protected shelter, it was turned into a fishbowl of ripe slaughter. The Romulans scattered like frightened children and had nowhere to run except into the waiting arms of another Squad, who waited patiently in the shadows before gutting the fleeing Romulans, disemboweling them and spilling green blood across the rugged surface of Exmodeus. The alert had gone out from the command tent to all availiable soldiers for assistance, but all of the Romulan units were occupied and none of the mercenary units seemed to care about a handful of Jem HAdar when there were plenty more to be hunted in the surrounding hills.

Fanboy and Fangirl crept in close behind one of the Jem'Hadar. GEsturing at each other with hand signals they waited for but a few short moments before discarding their cover to attack. Fanboy put three bullets into the back of one of the Jem'Hadar with his Desert Eagle while Fangirl shredded the abdomen of his partner with a squeeze of the trigger from her M-16.It took all of Fanboy's willpower to fight off what would have been a massive erection, watching his estranged wearing next to nothing gun down creepy fucking aliens was a long held fantasy of his. He promised under his breath that he would fuck her again afterwards, orders from high command be damned.

That is if there was still a high command left, alerted to the presence of the humans, the nearby Jem'Hadars began to make a beeline towards the fishbowl. They knew their lives were forfiet, but they were determined to kill sas many of the enemy leaders as they could, preserving a chance that the forces back at their own base could overcome a leaderless enemy. Fangirl began to chase after them, but was held back by her lover. "Wait." He said as he peered down into the opening that the second squad of Jem'Hadar were using to cut off the Romulans' escape. He handed her a small beautifully decorated object. "When you get my signal, wait five seconds, then pull the pin and toss this down into that little opening there."

"What the hell this?"

"Grenade."

"No shit sherlock, what kind of grenade?"

"Why, it's the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch!"

Fangirl, not unfamiliar with Fanboy's predisposal towards 20th century television references, chuckled slightly.

"Don't laugh," Fanboy warned, "That's the real goddamn deal. Fucker's got more bang than the warp core of a GCS. Make sure you wait those five seconds or i'm fried shit on burnt toast."

Fanboy then took a running start, and then prepared to jump down from the ridge to a ledge about six feet down where could could climb into the sinkhole faster. BEfore he jumped Fangirl called out to him "Wait! What's the Signal!"

As Fanboy descended through the air he yelled back "I HAVEN'T THOUGHT OF IT YET, JUST KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN!"


Dani the girl is singing songs to me beneath the marquee... of her soul

By the way I tried to say Id be there... waiting for

"I haven't thought of it yet, just keep your eyes open."

"Well I don't care where we go after we bail out of DS9, just so long as they serve breakfast and have hot water in the showers."

"I was actually thinking we'd stay at DS9 for a while."

"Are you fucking joking me? We have more Federation warrants on us than a Vulcan has bugs up his ass."

"The station's still tehnically Bajoran, and I used to run guns to them during the Cardie occupation. We'll never see the inside of a court in Bajoran space again."

"Yeah, but didn't you tell me you also used to bring in postitutes to the Occupying forces?"

"How do you think I got the guns through? Even a Cardassian can't think straight when he's got blue balls."

"Clever. But why would we stay at DS9 anyways? There isn't that much to do there that we can't do on our own ship, and the minibar on our ship is stocked just as well as Quarks'."

"Yeah, but they do have holosuites, and like you said, they have hot showers. There's also some paperwork I have to do there..."

"Paperwork? Why in the hell would you need to do paperwork! You don't pay taxes, you kill and plunder for a living, and you can't even sit still long enough to finish writing a simple sentence."

"Ok, I lied, I booked a room and a holosuite for several evenings [Kneels]."

"D?"

"There's something I want to ask you..." [procures a ring from his pocket, shortly afterwards the two kiss.

"This is not a good time to be having flashbacks." Fanboy muttered to himself as he crept quietly through the beseiged command center encampment. It didn't take him long before he found one of the Romulan officers cradling his self behind a large pile of wrecked communications equipment.

"Hey, Greenblood." Fanboy smirked using one of several politically incorrect terms for Romulans. "What's your rank."

"First...A..a..aide to Colonel Ivarat! But' he's dead..."

"Well that's good news!" Fanboy smiled as the plan he had sought came together in his head. "Because you just got promotoed to take his spot."

"You don't have the authority to do that!" The frightened military bureaucrat snapped.

"No, but the Jem Ha'dar don't know that." Fanboy said.

[Sidewinder]

Cool. Should I add the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch and the Oar Carved From Morning Wood to Fanboy's arsenal in the next 'Love Guns' story? (Currently, he has Mandalorian battle armor with God knows how many integral weapons hidden under its plates, a MK23 Mod 1 pistol, an AKM rifle with a M203 attached, and a Spetsnaz knife with a spring-loaded blade, which he stole from Shep. I intend to have him use the Desert Eagle later.)

Is it okay to have Fangirl show up in a later story, possibly as a crewmember aboard the Steel Angel? Or is she going to die within the next two chapters? (By the way, I gave Fanboy a sexaroid-- yes, an android sex toy-- modified to store grenades in its shielded "womb." It's good for relieving blue balls, for defending Fanboy with .45 caliber pistols hidden in its forearms, for distracting the enemy so Fanboy can kill them with his bare hands, for smuggling and planting bombs...)

[Enforcer Talen]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B2froiUsU4U These seemed the same kind of humor, for some reason.

Keep posting

[Darth Fanboy]

I have a couple of irons in the fire, one further along thaqn the other. Oh, and by the way Talen, your avatar kicks much ass.

[Enforcer Talen]

Thank you ^^ I shamelessly stole it from the webcomic in my sig. (Fantastic!)

[Darth Fanboy]

PARIS HILTON SENTENCING SNAFU!

(AP)

May 15th, 2007- Celebrity fanwhores and media pundits suffering from a slow day of news were shocked today when they found out that, due to a clerical error, Paris Hilton was mistakenly booked into Arkham Asylum. The court officer blames the incident on a simple visual mistake.

"After Miss Hilton's sentencing hearing she was taken into custody by Officer McGeough, perhaps the most nearsighted baliff in the history of the California Courts." Hilton's lawyer said at a news conference on Monday.

Officer McGeough, unfamiliar with popular culture and the entertainment media and legally blind without his eyeglasses, apparently mistook the wealthy heiress for The Scarecrow. A Batman villain whose modus operandi is to instill overpowering fear in his victims. Unfortunately for Miss Hilton, The clerk who processed her into the criminal courts had mentally checked out due to his impending two week cruise to the Carribean and had her sent to Arkham.

"Why it took so long to uncover this mistake is beyond me. This is a terrible thing to do to a beautiful, and kind young woman whose only mistake in life was driving under the influence of alcohol with a suspended license while on probation for a similar offense." Hilton's mother said.

During her seven days in Arkham, Paris has been kept in the same wing as other notable Batman Villains such as the Joker, Two Face, and Ron Mexico, who faked his own death for the fourteenth time in order to evade the Dark Knight but was eventually apprehended. These villains, however, are almost as appalled to have to share living space with Hilton as much as her family and fans.

"I've been murdering people by the dozens for years." said The Joker. "But I get nowhere near half the attention that this drama queen gets on a daily basis. So she's rich and has a tiny dog, I've used chemical weapons on innocent people just for the sexual thrill! I once choked a man until his eyes bugged out because of a ten dollar bet I had with the Penguin! But I don't even make the front page of the paper anymore. She even sells cosmetics like I used to do! I mean I didn't sell them so much as I tried to wipe out an entire city with tained perfume, of course, but that was back when people didn't want botulism and other toxins sprayed in your face and it was considered repulsive to do so. If I had done that now i'd have enough money to get as much attention as...as...Paris fucking Hilton!"

Because Paris' transfer paperwork from the California DOC cleared all opposition and her sentence at Arkham has become official, it will now take several legal proceedings to extradite her back to California, some legal experts say that the proceedings may take longer than the 45 day sentence she has been given.

Rumors are abound of a conspiracy involving Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger secretly transferring Hilton out of California at the behest of an unnamed Lobbyist known only as "C. Kent".

I know very little about this "C. Kent", Hilton's lawyer said outside of the LA County Courthouse where Paris was originally sentenced, "But I can tell you this, he must be a real dick.

UNNAMED PORNO FANFIC MAIN STORYLINE TO RESUME LATE MAY

One of the creators of UPF, Darth Fanboy, announced a bold proposal to reignite the stagnant main storyline of The Unnamed Porno Fanfic, which has taken a backseat to side stories and filler stories such as this one.

"When resynergizing a brands paradigm, it is important to create a new dynamic for the format which translates into consumer awareness." Said Fanboy. When asked for a translation into english, Fanboy only responded by "throwing up the horns" with his right hand, slamming his left fist into the table, and yelling "IT'S GOING TO FUCKING ROCK" before shattering the conference table with a massive erection. When asked about the remake of "Gnome Hunter" Fanboy was more elusive.

"Obviously there's a lot of shit I have to do, 'Scars of Mustafar' deserves a little love and with Comic Con coming up I have to continue the Gundam/Transformers crossover annual tradition. Then of course I mightinhale a pint of ether and continue working on Fear and Loathing in Mos Eisley. UPF will always be dear to my heart though. What was the question?"

[Darth Fanboy]

Episode -1, Part VII


The Jem'Hadar blocking the exit from the Romulan Command station were frustrated. For the first two minutes of their assault they had found plenty of easy targets and piled up a gruesome kill count, but they had been far too efficient and were now left with the mind numbing task of guarding a valley of the dead, waiting for the inevitable Romulan counterattack. The fortified position they held would allow them to kill many.

The leader of the squad, First Kuva'traka, was just about ready to have the rest of his brethren take refuge in better positions that would allow them to spot the counterattack when he spotted a human mercenary, larger than average for his species, escorting a cowering Romulan behind cover closer to their position.

"Idiot simian." The Jem'HAdar thought. "Not only did you present us with a target, but you made you and your Romulan much easier to shoot." Then Fanboy said something that really caught the cloned veteran's attention.



"Don't worry Colonel! I'll get you out of here!"

Fanboy's lie was yelled just loud enough so that he knew the Jem'Hadar could hear them. The Romulan aide who followed him tried vainly to explain that posing as a superior officer was a capital offense, but Fanboy paid no heed. the poor shmuck wouldn't even be alive for much longer.

The bright flash of incoming fire gave away the Jemmies' position, Fanboy's gamble had paid off and he now had the exact position of his quarry. Emboldened, they would probably advance forward to verify that they had struck down an important Romulan commander before moving on to the mercenary. Fanboy looked over his shoulder, the Romulan aide was four meters away to his left, bleeding profusely thanks to the decoagulating effects of the Jem Hadar energy weapons. It was time for him to call in his artillery, thinking fast, he unclipped a container of a sticky substance from his belt and dumped it onto the corpse of the Romulan corpse, mixing it in with the green blood. He then waited silently as the Jem Hadar moved in to confirm their kill.



Thinking tht they had defied the odds, managing to assassinate an important enemy commander even as the rest of their attack failed around them had emboldened Fanboy's attackers. The squad crept closer until they could see their prize in plain sight. The human mercenary had referred to him as a "Colonel", a military rank of high importance. BEfore they could verify his rank however, A brash man walked slowly from out behind a large rock, clapping his hands slowly and smoking a very large cigar.

Fanboy pulled the cigar from his mouth and exhaled through his nose, sending a puff of smoke through his nostrils like a dragon guarding the gates of hell, and it showed in his eyes as well.

"Congratulations you scaly shitheads. You just managed to shoot the personal ball washer of some clueless Romulan snotfucker. I hope you're proud of yourselves."

The lead Jem Hadar took a step forward and raised his weapon.

"Nuh uh uh," Fanboy admonished. "You kill me now and I can't tell you where to find where his boss is hiding at."

The Jwm'HAdar, not wanting to risk losing such valuable information, and desperate for another chance to gain some measure of victory, lowered his weapon only slightly.

"You will toss aside your...whatever it is..and provide us with the information we desire."

"And what do I get in return?" Fanboy asked, his cocky expressions mirroring Hannibal from the old A-Team reruns.

"We will grant you a relatively painless death." The Jem'Hadar scoffed.

Fanboy plucked the cigar from his lips and braced himself for the sprint of his life. "All right, sounds fair to me."

He then flicked the cigar at the Romulan corpse, which suddenly burst into flames. The nearest Jem Hadar was also on fire, as he had exposed himself to much of Fanboy's hommeade superadhesive Napalm while rummaging through the effects of the corpse. Seeing the flames spout upwards, Fanboy turned around as quickly as he could. Gaining enough ground in that split second to avoid getting himself killed, or so he hoped.



Atop the ridge, Fangirl looked down and could barely make out the fracas. But she saw the incinerating Jem'Hadar and the burning Romulan Corpse as clear as day.

"I would say a burning corpse and Jem'Hadar counts as a signal..." She said out loud to herself, she then pulled the pin on Fanboy's Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch. She hurled the grenade through the air with incredible precision, placing it right between Fanboy and the pursuing Jem'Hadar.



Fanboy reached into his pocket to pull out his flashbeacon in order to flash a signal in Morse Code but looked up just in time to see his beloved grenade flying at him.

"Fuck, I should have known she'd think a burning corpse was a signal. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Taking off at a dead sprint through a clear area,Fanboy moved as fast as his frame could carry him. He was just fast enough to avoid being incinerated, but not fast enough to avoid being caught at the periphery of the blastwave, which sent him careening into a cluster of jagged rocks that gouged him severely. His head avoided the sharp points but still slammed into the side of a stalagmite with such force that it rendered him unconscious.




"I don't want you coming along on this job."

"What? Why the hell not!"

"It's too dangerous, these Orion Syndicate types drool over the chance to gut me like a pig and send me to the taxidermist so they can mount me in some compromising position in some two-bit lieutenant's hideaway."

"Well maybe if you hadn't stolen every credit, treasure, and sensitive bit of information they had you could get your hands on..."

"Don't forget I absconded with their most beautiful dancer from their most profitable cantina so that I could make her my wife and tap that seductive ass all night long on any planet regardless off axial rotation. Besides It's the perfect crime, it's not like those Pirates are going to be calling in the Feds or anything like that. It's the closest thing to legitimate work i've ever had."

"And because you made me your wife, you're stuck with me. That includes this job."

"Not this time."

"If you leave without me, then I won't be here when you get back. At least if I go along you only risk losing me, instead of guaranteeing it with this macho bullshit you're trying to pull."



"Wake up!"

"....I didn't believe you."

"What are you talking about?" she said to him as he regained consciousness.

Fanboy woke up with Fangirl cradling his head in her arms, Romulan soldiers and mercenaries were swarming all over the area investigating and scavenging the Jem'Hadar corpses. Fanboy looked around and groaned as the brightness of a Romulan spotlight swiveled directly into his eyes before continuing to scan the area around the nearby hills for Jem Ha'dar.

"Nothing." Fanboy tried to climb to his feet but was still dazed from the blast. "I just sent the signal a little too early."

Fangirl looked back at him and gave him a quizzical look, the kind of look a curious woman gives when she knows a man isn't telling the entire truth. That combined with her furious yet dazzling eyes made her striking in the artificial lights.

"I noticed. C'mon, the greenbloods had a few medical corpsman turn the command tent into a field hospital. We'll get you patched up in no time and by the time they have you walking again you'll be able to welcome me back from my assignment."

Fanboy looked up at her and his eyes opened wide. In that instant he finally understood the answer to the question that had torn his psyche for so long.

Nothing is more brutal than the truth.


Jem Ha'dar Command Center

If the Vorta had a way to quantify in their species, they would be able to confirm the fact that the current incarnation of Dizel was the most fearful of all.

At first he had feared he would be executed for the botched attack on the Romulan forces that had seen minimal damage to the Romulan mercenary corps, and a significant number of losses for the Jem Ha'dar. Now that possibility seemed like a sweet release, because as word had spread through the camp that the attack had failed, a new threat emerged from the depths.

Assimilated Jem'Hadar and Cardassian Technicians were suddenly pouring out of the Cube and acquiring every iota of Dominion technology they could. The few remaining Dominion defenders had been routed as the Assimilated Jem'Hadar Borg managed to use their newfound cybernetic enhancements to their advantage, while still retaining some of the characteristics that made them fierce warriors to begin with. Overcoming many of the limitiations of standard Borg drones, these Jem'Hadar were fast, agile, and backed by the Collective mind of one of the most powerful species in the galaxy.

Only by sealing themselves in a bunker did the Jem'Hadar manage to spare their remaining forces from the Borg onslaught. Unable to penetrated the outer defenses without heavier equipment, the Borg retreated into the cube.

In Dizel's hand was a small disruptor pistol he carried in case of emergency situations, he had heard of the Borg, and the horrors they inflicted upon the minds of individuals.

"Imminent assimilation would definitely qualify as an emergency situation." He thought. Although the Dizel bloodline would die, he could at least move on knowing that he had served the Founders without question. In order to fulfill his duties however, he would have to make sure that the secrets of his base were as carefully guarded as possible, and destroyed if necessary.

If the Borg managed to assimilate the Dominion/Borg hybridized technology developed at this particular research station, they may become unstoppable.

To Be Continued!


Looking for the PAris Hilton/Arkham Asylum post? It's the previous one before this one!~DF