Unnamed Porno Fanfic From Shep, Falkenhorst, and Fanboy

[Master of Cards]

For shame for not relying to this masterpeice of crap

[Sidewinder]

EDITED 16JUN2007-- my "antifungal treatment" didn't make sense.
-----
Captain Thomas Eugene "Tom" Paris watched stars fly by as the CSS Voyager, the Intrepid 2 class explorer's cloaking device activated, entered Gonghe space. The Gonghe Republic was supporting the false Federation in the Civil War by refitting the traitor Starfleet's Galaxy class explorers into assault ships-- the Voyager's mission was to destroy the shipyards and the traitor Starfleet vessels being refitted there.

Tom was a capitalist, not a communist. He didn't share the ideals of FUCKUP's military leaders, but he knew if President Spock successfully reestablished a capitalistic market economy, those who'd embraced the communistic New World Economy-- planets that forsook their government treasuries, citizens who forsook their bank accounts and investment portfolios-- would demand the return of their money. The forsaken money was currently lining the pockets of FUCKUP admirals like Tom's father, Owen Paris-- if the money was returned, Tom would lose his inheritance.

The mission began badly. Candida albicans (a fungus that caused jock itch) infected the Voyager's bio-neural gel packs, crashed the ship's computer, and left her dead in space. Tom ordered the gel packs coated with the antifungal medication terbinafine hydrochloride-- Lamisil-- only to face a recurrence of the infection. Three more failures occurred before Tom found the cause: Lance Corporal Zweihaender Snowman, a self-proclaimed "super marine" created through genetic engineering, was using the gel packs as pocket pussies, shoving his infected penis into the gel packs to sexually stimulate himself. Tom fired his phaser pistol at Zweihaender, executing the marine before ordering the gel packs coated again-- fifth time was the charm.

'Good riddance.' Tom listened to Zweihaender complain about how the captain was violating his constitutional rights until the moment his tongue was vaporized. 'The next new human to complain about violations of their constitutional rights will...' Boom! "What the fuck?!"

The helmsman reported, "Captain, we apparently struck a mine." Boom! "We apparently struck another mine." Boom!

"Reverse impulse, you retard!"

The helmsman angrily turned to Tom-- the Voyager continued sailing into the minefield. "Captain, I am offended by your--" Boom! "Disrespect of people suffering from learning disabilities--" Boom! "And will be filing a formal complaint--"

Tom fired his pistol at point-blank range, killing the helmsman. He sprinted to the flight controls-- two more mines exploded, cracking the viewscreen, before the Voyager was out of the minefield. "How the fuck did we end up in that minefield?!" the captain demanded. "It should be marked as a 'danger zone' on our maps!"

The tactical officer answered, "This sector is designated as a security zone on our map of Gung-Ho," Gonghe, "space, indicating the sector is subject to frequent patrols by Gung-Ho Navy vessels, due to concerns over smuggling and piracy. However, the SHIT," Strategic Headquarters for the Improvement of Technology, "report on this sector states, 'We-- I mean, criminal elements that are in no way connected to us-- can sail down the Gung-Ho security zones like a cock down a whore's throat.'"

Tom pulled the PADD out of the tactical officer's hand. "Who wrote this...?" He frowned at the byline. "Admiral Brannon Braga."

"Sir, we're being hailed-- it's a Gung-Ho Navy patrol," the communications officer reported.

Tom stared at the Constitution WANK class heavy cruisers onscreen-- then he slammed the PADD against the tactical officer's head. "Why didn't you pay attention, you retard! You should've detected them before they got within weapons range!" The tactical officer's mouth opened to protest, and then closed-- he didn't want to share the helmsman's fate.

"GGV Bixie to unidentified vessel, you are in Gonghe space. Decloak and power down your weapons, or we will open fire." The WANK cruiser's heavy PENIS cannon looked like a dragon's fiery tongue-- the F-7 Viper fighter squadron, launching from her hangar, were the dragon's teeth, ready to tear the Voyager to pieces.

"Shit! What the fuck am I...?" Tom took deep breaths to calm down. 'Think, think, think.' He turned to the engineer. "Prepare to generate an anti-magnetic field through the outer hull." The engineer frowned, as if Tom was asking him to lick his shit off the captain's cock. "Prepare," Tom drew his pistol, "to generate an anti-magnetic field," he targeted the engineer's head, "through the outer hull."

Piss flowed down the engineer's pants. "Yes, Captain."

>

Aboard the Bixie, Lieutenant Haruka Tenou aimed the WANK cruiser's weapons at the "Intrepid 2 class assault ship." The Voyager decloaked-- then the anti-magnetic field repelled the nano-machines deployed to form the ship's ablative hull armor. The nano-machines became chaff, shielding the Voyager from the WANK cruisers' sensors. Haruka heard the order, "Fire!" and complied, clearing away the chaff to reveal empty space-- the Voyager had disappeared. "Evasive action!" The Bixie dived to dodge an expected counterattack.

The attack wasn't launched-- Tom, realizing the Voyager was outnumbered and outgunned, chose to engage the cloaking device and fly between the maneuvering WANK cruisers to escape.

The WANK cruisers searched the area for 30 minutes before Commander Setsuna Meiou, the cruiser squadron leader, concluded the Voyager was no longer there. "Neat trick," she deadpanned.

"I say, that ship dispersed chaff like powdered sugar off a donut!" Haruka added.

"Very well. Label that maneuver as the Powdered Donut Defense and plan countermeasures against it," Setsuna ordered.

->

LOVE GUNS 4 SIDE STORY

An 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' fanfic by Sidewinder, 2006-2007. Based on the story by Darth Fanboy, Falkenhorst, and MKSheppard-- itself based on stories by George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry.

->

Fanboy breathed deeply, aiming his GLOCK 45T training pistol at a woman, the rubber bayonet bent over her throat protector. He had difficulty seeing-- a simunition hit his visor, covering it with blue paint-- but he knew he was out of ammo, feeling the change in the pistol's balance after the slide locked to the rear. Blue paint covered every surface of the training room-- ceiling, walls, floor, and pillars.

"What a rush!" Capt Ai Teppou writhed in her protective gear like a porn star about to perform a striptease. In fact, she was a porn star-- she used royalties from her media appearances to buy the MV Steel Angel, an ex-Gonghe Navy WANK cruiser.

Fanboy smiled. "Wanna feel a greater rush?" he asked, patting his groin protector.

"No. Sorry, Fanboy, but you're not my type-- you don't have a vagina." Ai holstered her rubber bayonet-equipped training pistols. "Let's review the video to see who won." A hologram projector lowered from the ceiling to play a recording of the battle between the mercenaries-- Ai watched the holographic Fanboy grab the barrel of her right pistol and push it sideways, trying to tear the weapon out of her hand. "Slow..." She watched herself duck as Fanboy squeezed the trigger, the simunition flying harmlessly overhead. "Slow..." The holographic Ai kicked Fanboy's right kneepad, making him lean to that side. "Slow..." Ai fired the left pistol as Fanboy slashed at her throat. "Stop." The simunition froze in midair, one centimeter from Fanboy's visor, as the bayonet touched her throat. "A draw."

"No, I won," Fanboy insisted. "My bayonet would've cut open your throat before your bullet splattered my brains all over the ceiling."

Ai laughed. "You're the only mercenary I know who thinks a successful kamikaze attack is a win." She approached the door. "You're skilled at Gun Shou," using firearms in hand-to-hand combat.

"Baby, I only demonstrated one percent of my skills today."

"If you're still alive the next time the Steel Angel docks here, please show me more."

Fanboy smiled at the challenge. "Deal." He watched Ai's hips sway as she marched out of the room. 'If she was hetero or bi, I'd...'

>

"Greetings, Master," Candy Suxxx greeted as a Mandalorian supercommando boarded the Skullfucker, a Firespray class patrol ship whose warp nacelles were disguised photon torpedo launchers-- her duty station. "How was your day?"

Fanboy removed his helmet. "I met a gal who orgasms when she fires a gun. Too bad she's a dyke."

"Would you like me to suck on her clit and get her pussy ready for your monster cock?" Candy was a Soong type "sexaroid"-- Doctor Noonien Soong licensed the designs to Gonghe sex toy manufacturers, using the royalties to fund research on positronic brains. She was programmed to help Fanboy get his girlfriends hungry for his cock.

"Not now-- I got bills to pay. What's the word on Outer Heaven?" a network for private military contractors and their employers.

"The Gonghe military liaison reported an unidentified Intrepid or Intrepid 2 class assault cruiser, suspected to be in FUCKUP service, entered Gonghe space at stardate..." Candy heard her master laugh as she completed her report.

"So they want me to find this assault cruiser," the mercenary's fingers made quotation marks, expressing sarcasm at the Gonghe military's designation for the explorer, "and blast it to pieces?"

"The military is offering a substantial bonus for the capture of this ship, and for EPWs," enemy prisoners of war.

"I need help to do that-- Federation marines are spineless worms, but even they can be a threat if they outnumber me. Maybe..." Fanboy ran to his communicator.

>>

"Falk" Falkenhorst and Mark "Shep" Sheppard laughed when Fanboy refused to help them rob a bank, warning the pornographers, "Gonghe police vehicles are painted blue." They gained newfound respect for the mercenary as two robot lions, painted blue and mounting red beacons, drove down the street. "What the fuck are those things?!" Falk asked.

Shep opened the file "SHIT Assessment: The Gung-Ho Military" on his PADD. "MA-8 Cougar infantry fighting vehicle," the computer reported. "This four-legged mechanized striker is--" Shep pressed the FAST FORWARD button. "Known variants-- MA-8P antiriot vehicle. Crew: 3 + 8. Main armament: 4 x 155 mm Gauss cannons," Shep glanced at the four-gun turret on a robot's back, where a Gonghe Public Security officer stood, his right hand waving at cheering children as his left hand rested on an antiaircraft cannon. "Secondary armament: 3 x micro PENIS cannons (1 antiaircraft, 2 antipersonnel)," he glanced at the robot's head, the cannons resembling fangs, "24 chaff grenade launchers," he glanced at the shoulders, "two power claws," he glanced at the forepaws.

"What are those Gauss cannons loaded with?"

"Microwave emitting and tear gas dispersal rounds for riot control, fuel-air explosive and incendiary rounds for counter-terrorism, shrapnel and armor piercing explosive rounds for repelling an invasion... Those things can hurt us, no doubt about it."

"Can your bazooka," a man-portable micro-torpedo launcher, "kill them?"

Shep's head shook. "The design is compartmentalized. If I shoot the passenger compartment to kill the cops inside, the gunner will live to shoot those Gauss cannons at us. If I shoot off the Gauss cannons, the cops will live to charge out and shoot us. If I shoot the reactor to immobilize it, the emergency power cell will supply enough power to let the gunner shoot the Gauss cannons, and lower a ramp so the cops can charge out and shoot us."

"Fuck." Falk turned to see a holographic woman dancing, advertising a topless bar. "Let's think this over a stiff drink." The pornographers entered the bar, paid the cover charge, and sat at a table serving as a topless dancer's stage. "Hey, Baby! Wanna be a movie star?"

The dancer smiled at the pornographers. "Will I be paid a percentage of profits?"

Falk laughed nervously. 'Damn Gung-Ho bitches are too smart for our own good.'

"How about a lap dance?" Shep added.

The dancer put her left calf on Shep's shoulder, making him focus on her groin. "30 yuan." She quickly bent her right leg, making her breasts jiggle. Shep smiled like an idiot, reaching for Falk's wallet.

Falk grabbed Shep's wrist, stopping his business partner. "Don't even think about it," he hissed in Ferengi.

"Don't be jealous," the dancer said. "I don't mind DP," double penetration.

"Great! How about a threesome with one of your girlfriends?"

"A double lap dance is 60 yuan. Anything more..." She smiled. "Can be negotiated."

'Too fucking smart for our own good.' Falk noticed Shep's left hand reach for a Springfield Armory Long Slide 1911-A1 semiautomatic pistol. "Don't bother trying to rob this place. See that lump on the chick's right boot? She's packing-- looks like a GLOCK 45K compact," he whispered in Ferengi.

'No, I was thinking of robbing you so I can get a threesome with this chick and her girlfriend.' Shep didn't say. "You got a better idea to make money?"

"The Gonghe military is offering a shitload for the capture of a FUCKUP assault cruiser," the pornographers turned to see Fanboy's fingers make quotation marks, "that entered Gonghe space while you were shitting your pants at the sight of the Public Security Ministry's MS-9Ps."

"We saw MA-8Ps," Shep corrected. "How'd you find us?"

Fanboy tapped his helmet-mounted olfactory sensor. "I can 'smell' that lube you use."

"Anyways, why ain't the Gung-Ho military themselves chasing that commie cruiser?" Falk added.

"The Defense Ministry gives its planetary garrisons orbital defense stations slash munitions factories," the defense stations' secondary purpose, "not warships-- they think it's cheaper to hire mercenaries to chase escaped criminals instead," Fanboy explained. "Are you in or out?"

"How much money are we talking about?" Falk demanded. The mercenary handed him a PADD displaying the data. "Looks... tempting."

Shep whistled-- he didn't bother hiding his interest. "That'll get me a lot of lap dances."

Fanboy smiled. 'Suckers.'

>>

20 minutes later, the Skullfucker was parked in the hangar of the Asskicker, the pornographers' D7-2 class battlecruiser. Falk was trying-- and failing-- to defeat the Skullfucker's security systems so he could board the ship and steal the latinum stored aboard, while Candy was giving Shep a lap dance in the Asskicker's bridge.

Fanboy took advantage of these distractions to steal sixpacks of German beer and boxes of Cuban cigars from Falk's room, and boxes of 12.7 x 32.6 mm (.50 Action Express) and 11.43 x 23 mm (.45 ACP) rounds from Shep's room. "A Spetsnaz," Russian Special Forces, "knife with a spring-loaded blade! Sweet!" He reached for the knife-- then the ship shook, throwing the knife off Shep's sock drawer and under the bed. "What the...?"

"Fuck!" In the bridge, Shep pushed and pulled the manual steering column to evade the phaser beams and photon torpedoes reaching for Asskicker.

"Now?" Candy asked, pulling up her miniskirt.

Shep smiled at the sexaroid's words. "In ten minutes." He turned to Nog, the Asskicker's tactical officer. "Arm the--" He watched a dagger-like assault shuttle thrust itself into the Asskicker's bridge before knocking down the captain's seat. "Ahhhh!"

Tom led 12 marines and engineers out of the shuttle. 'I never thought I'd be grateful to those inbred Kazon for giving me this idea.' He watched Nog, trapped under the collapsed tactical console, struggle to draw a Long Slide 1911-A1. "Put 'em up, Ferengi scum."

"Racist... douche bag," Nog cursed. "I'll be... filing... a formal... complaint..."

Tom shot the former Starfleet officer. "Motherfucker!" He reset his pulse phaser rifle from STUN to KILL, and targeted Nog's head.

"Wait." Lt Kayla the Ring Warrior, the Voyager's security chief, put her hand on Tom's shoulder. "We need the command codes. I request permission to retrieve the Ferengi prisoner for interrogation."

Tom frowned, knowing the Klingon-human hybrid's preferred method of interrogation. "Make it so." He approached the engineering console. "Long Knife to Voyager, the D7's bridge is secure. We are dropping shields."

"Voyager to Long Knife, we verify dropping of the D7's shields. We are beaming in assault teams."

>

Fanboy marched down the hallway, gripping an AK104 assault rifle with a M203 grenade launcher mounted under the barrel. He heard humming behind him, and turned to see a marine's lower body energize into the ceiling. "Damn, piece of shit Starfleet transporters," the mercenary cursed as shit flowed down the dying marine's pants, onto the floor. Three more marines energized into the hallway. "Shit."

A marine corporal raised his rifle to target Fanboy. "Freeze!" The mercenary's steel-toed boot flashed in front of his eyes. The corporal cried in pain as the kick knocked the phaser emitter under his chin, caused the rifle to fire, and killed him.

"Cooper! Noooo!" Phaser bolts cut a line towards Fanboy as the next target, a marine private, adjusted his aim-- then three bullets hit his head, killing him.

"Damn, piece of shit Starfleet marines. You ain't worth the bullets I put in you," Fanboy cursed. 7.62 x 39 mm rounds were available for modest fees at every replicator in Gonghe space, but these replicators molecularly "stamped" serial numbers on all weapons and ammunition-- Fanboy had to buy ammo from Orion smugglers to avoid leaving a trail for criminal investigators.

The third marine, whose upper body energized into the floor, vomited chunks of liver tissue. He didn't react as Fanboy kicked the rifle out of his hands, and died as the mercenary resumed marching.

>

"Voyager to Long Knife, we're experiencing technical difficulties."

Tom frowned. "Explain."

"Delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol particles are interfering with the transportation beams."

"Delta-9--" Then Tom remembered tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) was the main psychoactive substance in marijuana. "You mean our transporters won't work because they're getting stoned?!"

"Affirmative, Long Knife. We confirm 11 marines died when they rematerialized within the D7's bulkheads. Four died when they rematerialized in the vacuum of space."

'Shit!' Tom turned to the engineers now repairing the consoles to restore control. "Chief, can the climate control system purge the ship of THC to restore transporter function?"

"Affirmative, Sir." The chief engineer pushed a button, only to see the words "SIEGE MODE" on the console. "Negative. Someone just locked the controls. Based on my knowledge of Soong Network Security, a scan of the user's DNA and voiceprint-- likely a senior officer's-- is now required to unlock the controls."

'Damn.' Tom turned to the marines who were successfully transported aboard the Asskicker's bridge. "First Squad, follow me. We're going headhunting." He led the marines to a Jefferies tube.

"Why don't we take a turbolift?" a marine asked.

"Because turbolifts can be booby trapped to launch itself at speeds beyond the inertial dampeners' limits, killing everyone inside, dumbass," Tom answered.

The marine began crying. "I'm not dumb, you big meanie!" He ran into the assault shuttle, tears flowing down his cheeks. "Wahhhh!"

"Sigh." Tom threw a photon grenade at the hatch to open it, triggering a booby trap (a M18A8 Claymore antipersonnel mine) defending the Jefferies tube. 'That was close!' "Sergeant Seppuku, take the point. Keep an eye open for booby traps."

'Motherfucker,' the marine didn't say as he climbed down the tube.

>

Whoosh! The armory door opened to let Fanboy see a red dot-- a laser sight.

"Master!" The GLOCK 45K semiautomatic pistol retracted into a hidden compartment in Candy's forearm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. And you?"

"I am okay, Master."

Fanboy glanced at the unconscious Shep, who Candy carried out of the bridge. "What happened to him?"

"A panel of transparent aluminum was knocked off the viewscreen when a Raptor class assault shuttle with a reinforced prow, possibly for ramming, crashed into the bridge. The panel struck Mister Sheppard's right temple, knocking him unconscious. I treated him for..."

Fanboy approached a replicator. "Whiskey, straight up." 'A bottle. The pornographers sure like their alcohol.' The mercenary took the bottle from the replicator, slammed the cap against a table to open it, and poured whiskey onto Shep's face.

"Ah! Gurgle! Argh! Motherfucker!" Shep drew his pistol as he awoke.

"I'm glad you're okay." Fanboy poured the rest of the whiskey down his own throat. "Ah! That hit the spot!"

Shep lowered his pistol when he recognized the mercenary. "What the fuck just happened?!"

"A Raptor class assault shuttle with a reinforced prow, possibly for ramming, crashed into the bridge. I evacuated you to the armory and treated you for..." Candy noted the injuries Shep received during the attack.

Shep noticed the armory's first aid kit was open. "Thanks, Candy. Would you mind telling me how you got in here?" He turned to the mercenary. "You too. I spent a fortune on that lock."

Fanboy smiled. "That's a trade secret." He acquired his "lock picks" in a more technologically advanced galaxy. "Anyways, you got a Starfleet marine infestation," the mercenary stated, not distinguishing Starfleet marines from those serving in the FUCKUP Marine Corps. "You need to call in an exterminator: me."

Shep unlocked a gun cabinet to retrieve a MG3 machine gun, a M79 grenade launcher, and ammo for both weapons. "I can deal with Starfleet marines just fine. Did you capture any prisoners?"

"Shit!" Fanboy slammed a fist against his helmet. "I forgot about the bonus they're offering for POWs!"

Shep shrugged. "Whatever. Let's find Falk and go earn that bonus."

>

Falk cursed Fanboy and the mercenary's extra-galactic ship as he crawled through a Jefferies tube, towards the bridge. At every junction, he waved his left hand so the wristwatch's integral identification friend or foe (IFF) transmitter would disarm the Claymore there. Boom! 'A malfunction?'

"Sarge! Noooo!"

"Corporal Fodder, take the point."

"But...!"

"Take the point."

"Y-y-y-yes, S-s-sir!" The corporal's tone suggested he was staring at a phaser emitter.

'Shit!' Falk crawled backwards, towards a hatch. 'Baby, don't fail me now.' The IFF transmitter didn't fail him, but the hatch did-- it came loose under Falk's weight, dumping him into a hallway below. "Argh! Piece of shit hatch! A fine example of Klingon workmanship there!"

"Falk?"

The pornographer looked up to see his business partner, Fanboy, and Candy. "Shep." Falk rose to his feet. "Would you mind telling me who the fuck is crawling through the Jefferies tubes and setting off the booby traps there?"

"Starfleet marines."

"Shit," Falk whispered. He pointed at the tube overhead. "They're coming this way." Candy's leg suddenly flashed in front of him. "What the...?" He stared at the sexaroid's extended leg-- then he noticed the grenade on top of her high-heeled boot. "Fuck!"

Candy somersaulted backwards, throwing the grenade back into the Jefferies tube. "Please take cover." She laid on top of Fanboy as the grenade exploded.

Shep brushed off the debris that rained down from the Jefferies tube. "Think we got them all?" Then another explosion blasted a hole in the ceiling, sending a marine into the hallway.

"Fuck, no!" Fanboy fired a burst into the marine's back before he realized the man was already dead, likely killed by the grenade that Candy threw back. The mercenary turned to see Tom's arms reach through the hole and fire a pulse phaser rifle in his direction. "Motherfucker!"

Phaser beams and bullets filled the hallway as Fanboy and Candy returned fire. Tom felt a sharp pain in his arms as three bullets hit the rifle, triggering an alarm. "Shit!" The FUCKUP officer dropped the rifle and rolled away from the hole.

Falk and Shep, recognizing the alarm for an overloading phaser, echoed Tom's expletive. "Move, motherfuckers!" Falk opened a door and dove into the room, followed by Shep, Fanboy, and Candy-- flames singed the sexaroid's high-heels as the pulse phaser rifle exploded.

>>

Consciousness slowly returned to the men in the Jefferies tube. "Ow!" "Shit!" "Son of a bitch!"

Tom massaged his head, feeling his electronic earplugs move within the ear canals. "Report!"

"My ears!" "I can't hear you!" "Speak louder!"

"Piece of shit!" Tom drew his pistol. "Lance Corporal--" He realized out of First Squad's 13 men, there were only three survivors. "Hail Kayla, have the bitch send reinforcements to our position."

"What did you say?!" "I think I'm deaf-- I mean, hearing-impaired!" "Speak louder, damn it!"

"Sigh."

>

"I'll personally deliver the punishment these terrorists deserve," Kayla transmitted before turning to the marines in the bridge. "Second Squad, follow me. Bring the Ferengi scum with us-- he'll be the first to die if we encounter any booby traps."

"But that would violate his constitutional rights--"

Kayla's rifle targeted the politically correct marine's head. "Bring the Ferengi."

Piss flowed down the marine's pants. "Yes, Ma'am."

>

Nog awoke to see the words "FRONT TOWARD ENEMY" (markings on a Claymore) in front of him. "Yaaaa!" Silence answered his cry.

"It's a dud! We're saved!" said the marine using the Ferengi to probe for mines.

Nog's head turned to see two arms holding his shoulders, keeping his body off the floor. "Who the fuck are you?!" He writhed in his restraints, trying to escape.

"Be silent, or I'll amputate your arms and legs!" Kayla hissed. "You won't need them for this mission."

"Yes, I do!" Nog pleaded. "I need my arms-- and legs-- to disarm the booby traps here!" He glanced at the Claymore. "That's no dud! The mine is just interrogating me for an IFF signal!"

"Where's the transmitter?" Kayla demanded.

"It scans the user's DNA-- I'm the only one who can use this one," Nog explained to buy time.

"The captain has a similar transmitter, am I correct?"

"Of course."

Kayla smiled, baring her sharp teeth and making Nog very nervous. "Perfect."

>

"You're proposing that we emulate the interrogation signal, transmit it throughout the ship, and find the senior officers' location by scanning for the IFF signal?" Tom asked.

"We'll hunt them like wild targs," Kayla swore.

"Have the Chief implement it immediately." Tom smiled and turned to the marines. "We're returning to the bridge."

"Hooray!" A marine turned to open the hatch behind him, eager to escape from the hell that was the Asskicker's Jefferies tubes.

"No!" Click! Tom's warning came to late-- the FUCKUP officer could only take cover as another Claymore exploded, killing three eager marines.

>>

Falk, Shep, Fanboy, and Candy quietly walked down the hallway, towards the bridge. "What's the plan?" the mercenary whispered.

"We throw a couple of flashbangs into the bridge, wait for the flashbangs to blow, and burst in to shoot anyone wearing a Starfleet uniform," Shep whispered back.

"Works for me." Fanboy glanced at the ceiling. "Think the marines will play nice and stay in the Jefferies tubes?"

"I hope so," Falk whispered. 'Damn. Replacing all those Claymores is gonna cost a shitload.' He noticed a green light flash on his wristwatch-- it was transmitting. 'What the fuck?'

This irregularity didn't escape Shep's notice. "What's wrong with the interrogators?" He heard footsteps, and opened a door. "Move!"

Staff Sergeant Kamin led Third Squad down the hallway, his tricorder transmitting the interrogation signal and scanning for the IFF signal. Although he saw no one else in the hallway, the tricorder indicated two targets were nearby. "Set phasers to stun. Fire on my command." The non-commissioned officer (NCO) turned to the door. "You cannot hide! Surrender now and you will not be harmed!"

Behind the door, the pornographers were arguing with each other. "They must be tracing the IFF signal! We got to get rid of the watches!" Shep whispered.

"And get killed by our own booby traps? Hell no." Falk was putting boxes of dildos and vibrators in front of the door to barricade it. "A little help here?" he hissed to his business partner.

Fanboy was staring at a box of pink pills. "What are these?"

"Ecstasy," 3,4-methylenedioxymethamphetamine. "We use it to get girls in the mood." The room was one of 12 sets for pornographic films aboard the Asskicker.

Fanboy smiled. "Gimme some and I'll take care of that marine squad outside the door."

"Are you kidding?" the pornographers exclaimed.

The mercenary was already downing pills by the handful. "No. Now get out of my way."

Kamin watched the door open to reveal a man gripping a knife and an antique rifle. "Halt! Put down your weapons and raise your hands over your head!" Whoosh! The NCO felt a sharp pain in his knees, fell on his back, and found himself staring at his amputated legs. "Ahhhh!" Going into shock, Kamin didn't hear the sounds of gunfire echo in the hallway.

Methamphetamines such as ecstasy were a psychostimulants, enhancing locomotor activity. Fanboy exploited its affects to the fullest, running at superhuman speeds to dismember, disembowel, and decapitate the marines while dodging their phaser beams. "Die, motherfuckers, die!" He shoved the AK104 muzzle down a marine's throat, squeezed the trigger, and watched the marine's head explode. "Die!" The mercenary spun, scanning for the next target, only to find himself surrounded by dead and dying men. "Hey! I'm still pumped up!"

"Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze!"

Fanboy turned to the hyperventilating Kamin, squeezed the trigger on the knife handle, and shouted, "Candy! Get me off!"

"Yes, Master." The sexaroid exited the room, moved Fanboy's groin protector out of the way, and began sucking his penis.

The pornographers exited the room to find the floor, walls, and ceiling covered with blood. "Oh my God..." Falk whispered. "What the...? Hey! That's my Spetsnaz knife!" Shep shouted, reaching for the blade embedded in the NCO's head.

Meanwhile, Fanboy ignored the death and destruction around him, as his penis hammered Candy's self-lubricating pussy. "Ah, ah, ahhhh!" He came, and then turned the sexaroid around. "One more time! Ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhh!"

>

Tom sat in the bridge, downing aspirin by the handful. 'I'm glad B'Elanna and Miral are on Qo'noS, not aboard a piece of shit battlecruiser,' he thought of his wife and child. "You say your boss is the only one who can unlock the controls now?"

"Yeah."

Tom looked through the broken viewscreen to see the Voyager towing the Asskicker through Gonghe space. "Like the view?"

"The business end of a WANK cruiser looks better to me now."

"Find your boss and have them unlock the controls, or you'll be enjoying the view from the vacuum of space."

Nog gulped. "Yes, Sir."

>

Fanboy downed bottles of beer as he walked, fighting dehydration and hyperthermia, two side effects of ecstasy. Shep didn't complain about the fact that Fanboy was downing his beer-- the mercenary must be alive to be useful against Starfleet marines.

Whine! "Uh, Boss, this is Nog. I've been captured by FUCKUP marines. The commander--"

"Captain!" Tom's voice boomed through the intercom.

"The captain wants you to come to the bridge and terminate Siege Mode, or he'll blast the ship into subatomic particles," Nog finished.

"Shit! What do we do now?" Shep asked.

Falk shrugged. "We might as well go and find out why FUCKUP captured the Asskicker in the first place."

>>

Kayla snarled at the three men and one woman who appeared in the doorway. "Halt! Put down your weapons and raise your hands over your heads." She watched Falk, Shep, and Fanboy comply. "You sent 13 of my warriors to Gre'thor, and 13 to Sto-Vo-Kor. I congratulate the ingenuity you applied to your booby traps, and," her rifle targeted the man in Mandalorian battle armor, who she assumed was the captain, "will now reward you for your ingenuity."

Fanboy stared at the phaser emitter. "With a pulse phaser rifle? Where's your bat'leth?" He laughed. "You have no honor. The Fek'lhr shall jab you with knives and spears for all eternity."

"How dare you?!" Kayla began squeezing the trigger.

"Hold your fire!" Tom ordered. "We need him to unlock the controls!"

Kayla reluctantly complied. "Obey or die."

"Why do you need this piece of shit battlecruiser, anyways?" Fanboy asked.

"Left knee, shoot," Tom ordered.

Beam! Fanboy kneeled as the phaser beam scorched the left kneepad.

"Master!" Candy ran towards the mercenary, stopping when Fanboy held his hand in front of her.

"You sexist pig!" Kayla targeted the mercenary's head.

"Are you gonna comply, or do we have to burn off your skin, square centimeter by square centimeter?" Tom threatened.

"I'll unlock the controls." Shep winked at Falk to assure his business partner.

"Good boy."

"Computer, terminate Siege Mode. Authorization Shep, Little Boy in Hiroshima."

"Siege Mode terminated," the computer reported. Then the Asskicker fired two torpedoes, hitting the Voyager's stern and disabling the tractor beam emitter there.

"What?!" Tom targeted Shep. Fanboy's kneepad emitted a puff of smoke, distracting him-- the FUCKUP officer felt a sting, looked down, and saw a rocket dart stuck in his chest. "Son of a..." The dart injected a tranquilizer into Tom-- the pistol fell from his hand as he fell unconscious.

Falk grabbed Shep's MG3 as Fanboy grabbed his AK104, while Candy deployed her GLOCK 45Ks-- they began shooting at the FUCKUP marines and engineers in the bridge.

"I'll shove my bat'leth up your ass!" Kayla shot Fanboy, but the beam only scorched the paint on the mercenary's breastplate-- then Fanboy and Candy simultaneously shot the hybrid's head, killing her.

Falk watched Shep's hands dance on the controls as the Asskicker turned 180 degrees and accelerated away from the Voyager. "What now?"

"Now we get the hell out of dodge!" Shep answered.

Fanboy turned to the pornographer. "But the reward--"

"We cannot take it with us!" Shep replied.

"No arguments from me," Falk added.

>

Aboard the Voyager, the XO ordered, "Maximum warp. We must rescue Comrade Paris!" Stars raced towards the explorer as it accelerated.

"Sir, what does a Liger class command ship look like?" the new helmsman asked of a dreadnought jointly developed by the Starfleet and the Gonghe Navy.

"The configuration of a Liger class command ship, which exists only as a wooden mockup, is irrelevant to this mission."

"Can a wooden mockup travel at Warp 9.98?" the helmsman added, pointing at the viewscreen's upper left corner.

The XO looked up to see the 700-meter-long dreadnought, resembling a .44 Magnum revolver with four warp nacelles mounted on the grip, dive towards the Voyager. "Shit!"

"USS Liger to unidentified vessels, you are in restricted space," near the shipyard where the Liger and its Gonghe counterpart, the GGV Shiwang, were constructed. "Shutdown your engines and lower your shields, or we will open fire," Commodore Global War On Terror Rice IX ordered as the dreadnought's triple-gun turrets traversed to target the approaching ships.

The pornographers, realizing they were outgunned, complied with the Starfleet officer's orders. The Voyager XO, believing the explorer's 25th century technology gave them a tactical advantage, ordered the ablative hull armor's deployment-- then he remembered the armor-forming nano-machines were expended in their escape from the Gonghe Navy patrol. "Shit!"

Boom, boom, boom, boom! The Liger's medium PENIS cannons hammered the Voyager's warp nacelles and impulse engines, crippling the explorer. The Voyager was able to fire two transphasic torpedoes at the dreadnought, whose Hedgehog mini-torpedo volley systems intercepted the torpedoes-- then the bridge was targeted, and it was "GAME OVER" for the explorer.

>>

Starfleet marines spent two hours aboard both ships, searching for evidence that a terror attack was planned. To avoid such charges, the pornographers claimed Fanboy, a licensed mercenary authorized to own heavy weapons, was the Asskicker's owner.

Tom "sang like a bird" to the Gonghe Military Intelligence Service, explaining his plan: program the Asskicker's computer to launch a kamikaze attack against the shipyard, allowing the Voyager to escape after her mission was completed.

Falk, Shep, and Fanboy split the reward for the FUCKUP officer's capture, but Cdre Rice received the reward for the Voyager's capture.

>

In the Asskicker's bridge, a bored Fanboy sat in front of Candy, holding a wireless controller for the video game console in her "womb." On the sexaroid's abdomen, a panel was opened to reveal a monitor and let the mercenary play his favorite game, 'Grand Theft Auto: Vice City'.

Shep and Nog exited the Jefferies tube. "There-- all the Claymores have been replaced. The Asskicker is secure again," Shep reported.

Falk turned to Fanboy. "I hope you're happy. Thanks to those piece of shit FUCKUP marines, we're left with beer money, not 'invest in real estate' money."

"Chill, Falk. I know how to earn more money," the mercenary assured.

"How? By blowing up the Asskicker for insurance money? By shooting each other for insurance money? I ain't risking my ship--"

"My ship," Shep interrupted.

"Or my ass on another one of your dumbass schemes."

Fanboy smiled. "You know the Gonghe government imposes double taxes on the sale of recreational drugs, right? Well, some people would rather pay a smuggler's fee than the double taxes, and buy 'illegal' drugs. I know how these smugglers think. If we track them down, we can load their cargo onto the Asskicker, hand over the smugglers to Gonghe cops for a reward--"

"What are we gonna do with the 'illegal' drugs?"

"We head down to Risa and sell the drugs. The Risans love recreational drugs."

"Great idea!" Shep commented.

Falk shrugged. "I guess it's worth a try."

>

The Asskicker spent two weeks hunting for smugglers-- during this time, Fanboy was constantly high on confiscated drugs. Nonetheless, the mercenary and the pornographers still earned enough "invest in real estate" money to part on friendly terms.

->

Not the End

Gun Shou, or Gun Sau, is a martial art inspired by a fight scene in the 2002 film 'Equilibrium'. The term combines the English word "gun" with the Chinese word for "hand." According to www.gunkata.freeservers.com, "Gun Sau is a freestyle combat game using safe 'handguns' in the trapping range. Parries, sweeps, locks, disarms, and retentions are all part of the art."

If anyone's curious, Shiwang means, "Lion King."

Haruka and Setsuna are named after characters created by Takeuchi Naoko. Candy is named after a character created by Rockstar Games.

The MA-8 is based on the TMF/A-802 BuCUE mobile suit from 'Mobile Suit Gundam SEED'-- created by Sunrise.

[Lonestar]

UPF Interlude

"Only One Man would Dare to give me the Raspberry!"





Yenchin sat drinking his Singapore Sling on the front porch of his country home on Delirium 4. Retired life was treating him well, even if he had had to move to the edge of civilization. You see, Yenchin had once been the Porn King of Tellerite-on-Vulcan sex.

For decades his studios had produced only the finest of pornographic movies for the coveted Vulcan Porn market. He had been wealthy. Powerful. A man of Influence. The only problem was the protection taxes he ahd had to pay, but now that was someone else's problem.

Over a year ago he and been approached by two men to sell his shares, and they had offered a rather tidy sum for it. Seeing as the "Taxman" hadn't came by in years and feeling old age creeping up on him, he did what any Porn Magnate would do. Cashed in his chips, bought a few Orion sex slaves , and retired to the country. He found the life of Gentleman Planter/Manwhore/elder statesmen to be enjoyable. He had worried he would get bored, but when you had immense wealth and 20 Orion Slave Girls it was amzing what you could do for entertainment.

Yenchin frowned. Some movement on the treeline caught his eye. Damn, I hope I don't have another bugger-bear infestation. He had given some thought to marketing on some of the more narrow demographics, but had never came to a real decision one way or another. He saw more movement, and the shape briefly reminded him of...

of....

Oh shit. He patched into his access to the planetary sensor grid. "Computer? Has there been any unusual orbital activity?"

"One Steamrunner-class light cruiser entered orbit 3 hours ago." The computer respnded cheerfully. "Approximately two hours ago, several shuttle craft exited the vessel and landed in multiple locations near Yenchin Manor."

Oh, Fuck me. "Computer, priority one message to Captain Reynolds, codeword: Yellabelly. Send!"

"Workin..." There was a screeching sound as the outside console was hit by .50 sniper fire. A couple dozen men in BDUs, all armed with slugthrowers, advanced towards the house. Yenchin briefly considered running inside, or reaching for his hand phaser. Then decided on raising his hands. There was a yell from inside the house, then phaser fire, then the distinctive clatter of a M60. Sweated beaded on his forehead as he heard heavy footsteps walk up behind him. He heard the screen door open and slowly turned.

"Guh, Gunny Rhainsford."

Rhainsford nodded, apperently oblivious to the sounds of minor shooting going on between Yenchin's staff and the squad that had came in through the back.

"Yenchin. Boss will be wanting a word with you."

Yenchin turned back out at the men walking up to the Porch. He recognized the two other leaders.

"Stile. Mingo."

Mingo nodded gravely while Stile grinned.

"You're in the shit now!"

And with that, there was a thunderous roar as an Aeroshuttle blasted overhead, made a wide turn, and landed in the ricecorn field. Stenciled on the side was the name, Brazos. The Port door opened, and out stepped Agent Lone Starr of Section 31.

-----

Lone Starr walked briskly up to Yenchin. Before Yenchin could say anything he pulled out his .45 and shot him in the right kneecap.

"Where's my money man? Where's my fucking money???"

"I...I...in the...the basement. Code Sade Orgy Jeremy."

Starr nodded at Rhainsford he stepped away, his heavy boots clomping into the house.

"Yenchin, I go off, I help defend the Federation, and what do you do? You disappear. Without paying your taxes. Not only that, the known studios you own are either gone or deserted. Your secret ones remain...secret. I thought you were a Patriot?"

Yenchin sobbed. "I...I sold my shares...I didn't think it would be a problem!"

"You didn't think it a problem? And you run off? I think you're lying." With a flick of his wrist an aluminum baton appeared in Starr's right hand, he swung down on Yenchin's right knee. "Who'd you sell it to?"

"Two men...Frankie and Seppo."

Stile laughed manically. Starr glared at him.

"Frankie and Seppo? You Piece of shit. You betray me? Your country? Your business partner? Should I let you live after the treason you've committed? Is it all there, Gunny?" Starr asked as Rhainsford walked up. He shook his head.

"Well, I guess you're shit out of luck." BLAM!

---

Proud and majestic, the Eagle, CL-5, orbited Delirium 4. Agent Lone Starr had ordered everything not bolted down taken up as loot. For many, many years Section 31 had augmented it's revenue with "protection taxes" to the adult entertainment industry, and Yenchin had had to be made an example of. Just because S-31 was too busy at the moment didn't mean they wouldn't find and get you.

"Sheppard and Falkenhorst?" His XO, Agent Publius asked.

"Almost certainly. Damn, I haven't seen those retards in years. I wonder where they are?"

"Zeon," Publius began, "would be the logical starting point."

"I'd rather not deal with those carpetmunchers without a properly outfitted taskforce." Section 31 diverted substandard components to Starfleet, so that if a S-31 ship had to come into conflict with a Starfleet vessel it would explode in a rather spectacular fashion. Before the start of major hostilities with other powers, Starfleet vessels were cycled through "routine maintenance" so the bad parts were replaced. Then when the war was over the parts were swapped out again.

Incredibly, it seemed as if no one in Starfleet realized this.

"Sir! Sir. Sir. Sir." The Electronic Warfare Officer, LTJG Sarina Douglas said. "There is a vessel incoming. Hasn't detected us. Almost certainly the Centaur. Yes. Yes it is. Mmhmm."

Starr sighed. It had seemed like such a good idea to bring the Augment onboard, but she had gradually gone more and more crazy in the EWO position. She was rapidly turning into as big a debacle as that genetic waste Bashir.

"Captain Reynolds. That pigfucker." Publius said in a conversational tones. Starr nodded. Made sense that Yenchin would have a Tellerite lover in his pocket.

"Sir. SIR. Sir. Being hailed."

There was a cackle.

"Unknown vessel, you are ordered to stand down. This is the Federation starship Centaur. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded."

"Corry, blow it up. Make sure you aim for the warp core." A volley of Quantum Torpedoes exited the Eagle, slamming through the thin hide of the Centaur and initiating a warpcore overload. The vessel exploded.

"Well! XO, I think it's time for a trip down memory lane, don't you?"

"Sheppard?"

"Mmhmm."

[Darth Fanboy]

BWAHAHAHAHA!

Now this is the perfect foil!

[Lonestar]

BWAHAHAHAHA!

Now this is the perfect foil!

It's time for The Mess......in.....SSSSPPPPAAAAACCCEEEE!

[Darth Fanboy]

WEll as I told Sidewinder feel free to continue writing interludes, because if they are half as good as this they could make it into the UPF Canon.

[Lonestar]

Interlude

Mama Mama Can't you See


As the Eagle(CL-5) traveled towards it's ultimate destination, it's crew maintained the professionalism and decorum expected of heirs of a several-hundred year naval tradition. The ship was maintained. Petty Offices stood watched. Resources inventoried. The entire collection of the Buttman pictorial magazine was re-replicated, as the previous copies had to be recycled due to enough jism to keep Zeon good to go for a year.


Agent Lone Starr of Section 31, revenue collector, Commanding Officer of the Eagle glanced down at the daily operations summary. Under "Chief Engineer's Notes", the CHENG had scrawled "CHRIST I WANT C0CK". Looks like LCDR Ender has been using waste for toast jam again. Ender insisted that the "special blend" that came out of the radioactive waste extraction unit made him more virile than mere mortals. What it really did was give him really, really bad trips.

Beyond the off-color comment everything seemed to be in order. Starr pressed his thumb down on the PADD, and returned it to Petty Officer Setzer.

"Thank you Mr. Setzer. That will be all."

Setzer stood there at Parade Rest, looking as if he wanted to say something, but was unsure of the wisdom of doing so.

"Yes?"

"Sir, I..."

"Go ahead, what's eating you?"

"On the bridge, when we blew up the Centaur...you seemed anxious to go after our next targets. Like it was personal."

Starr took off his glasses and stared at Setzer, his thoughts suddenly far away...


----


"IIIINNNNNNNCCCCOOOOMMMIINNGGGG!!!" CPL Shultz shouted as the fireteam crowded behind the wreck of a truck. The mortars whistled down and, thankfully, missed the fireteam. SGT Starr hefted PFC Johnston by his armor vest. The man was in a fetal position sobbing.

"Those assholes are in the building spotting us! I need you to get your ass in gear!" Starr peeked around the wreck and moved his head back behind. "He's in the Northwest window, about 4 floors up. We'll over you. Go!" The fireteam stood up and fired their HK416s at the rebels in the building. Johnston lifted his Wallbreacher rocket launcher, pointed it at the window and fired. The Rocket screamed down the street, and glanced the corner. There was a satisfying explosion, but the rebels were still moving around.

"You missed! How could you fucking Miss? It's a guided missile!"

"I'm sorry Sarge!" Johnston sobbed. "I'll try to do better!" A stray phaser shot hit the harness with another 4 rocket rounds or so in it. There was a hissing sound as burning propellant leaked out.

"Everyone on the otherside of the truck!"

The fireteam ran around, and Johnston followed, with the harness still on.

"What are you doing? Take it off!"

"I...I can't!" He was trying to yank it off, but was having a spazz-attack. In an instant Starr pulled out his .45 and blew Johnston's brains out.

"The other side!"

The fireteam ran back to the original side of the wrecked truck. The rockets went off. Why am I here? Why am I doing this fighting? Militia are suppose to just defend the planet, not do Starfleet's dirty work...but Starfleet was filled with Heroes, and heroes didn't fight their way through cities of people who just wanted to be left alone...

Fortunately, the Truck took most of the blast. Unfortunately, they were pinned with nowhere to go. CPL Shultz looked at Starr and grinned. "I think we're pretty fucked!"

Almost as if on cue, there was a screeching of tires and another armored truck came around the bend. Manning the 40mm Auto-grenade launcher was a madman. "DIE! DIE! DIE!" he yelled putting round after round into the building. Most of the fire went silent, and unordered, Starr's fireteam started picking off rebels still moving. Soon, the building was completely dead. The Man stopped firing and turned to Starr. Starr smiled.

"Hooollleeee shit! Look at what the cat dragged in! I appreciate the help!"

"Looks like you numbnuts needed it." SGT Sheppard, head of a Fireteam from Dog Company nodded. "We'd be here sooner but Falkenhorts drives like a woman."

"Fuck you, Sarge!"

Starr grinned. "Let's see what there is to find, shall we?"

The two fireteams entered the building, but except for one room with one rebel in it, most all were dead. Starr noted that all the replicators were destroyed. Finally making it to the basement, they found a locked door. It was easy to open. And what they found...

..Was a virtual cornucopias of pornography.

"Contraband!" Starr said. "I better call this in." Before his hand could reach the radio Shep's slapped it out fo the way.

"Let's not be hasty! We have here a Golden opportunity!"

"What do you mean? We're suppose to report all contraband Shep."

"So? Listen, me and Falkenhorst know a guy. We can make some bank out of this. No one has to know. We'll be more than glad to cut you in on it."

Starr suddenly realized that Falkenhorst had a silencer on his sidearm. And he was the only one in his fireteam here. Shep was holding a handphaser.

"Wait a minute..." Starr unbuttoned his holster and....

-----

"He stunned you?" Petty Officer Setzer said in amazement.

Starr nodded. "We were war buddies. I thought we were fighting for the same thing, doing our duty even when Starfleet wouldn't. And he betrayed me. We've crossed paths a few times since then."

"And this is the last straw. I aim to bring them in."

[MKSheppard]

And the truth behind our sordid dealings slowly appear.........



PS - I love Ender being a crazy nuke.

[Sidewinder]

The year 2375 of the Common Era (CE). As the Dominion War ravaged the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, hundreds of starships, sent on vital missions, sought battle as they sailed through space. One of these ships was the USS Alaska, a Defiant class escort.

As the Alaska approached Gongye III, the Gonghe Republic's executive capital-- the legislative capital was in another star system, preventing a decapitation strike from paralyzing the entire government-- a Federation class dreadnought and a F-7 Viper fighter squadron appeared onscreen.

The dreadnought was modified under the Warrior Armament, Naval Kind (WANK) and the Phaser Enhancement, Nuclear Isotope Surge (PENIS) Projects-- reactive armor plates enveloped the ship like petals on a rosebud. The hangar deck was extended, the bow and stern doors allowing it to simultaneously launch and recover fighters. A heavy PENIS cannon, with its own matter/antimatter reaction assembly powering it, replaced the now redundant navigational deflector. Six medium PENIS cannons in twin-gun turrets-- one on the saucer section's topside, one on the saucer and one on the stardrive sections' undersides-- traversed to target the approaching starships, triggering a red alert.

"Sir, we're being interrogated, I confirm the Alaska is transmitting the IFF," identification friend or foe, "code. Sir, we're being hailed," the Alaska's communications officer reported.

"Onscreen." Captain Global War On Terror Rice IX, the Alaska's captain, turned to see a hologram of the dreadnought's captain.

"GGV Qin to Federation vessel, welcome to the Gonghe Republic. What is your mission?"

"USS Alaska to the GGV Qin, greetings from the Federation," Capt Rice stated. "Our inventory of photon torpedoes does not meet our operational needs, and we request permission to rearm at one of your defense stations," a code signaling the need to gather military intelligence.

"Roger. The Gonghe garrison is launching fighters to escort you," the dreadnought's captain answered. Red alert was deactivated-- the escort was no longer targeted.

"Incoming, eight F-7 fighters, bearing ten o'clock high," Lieutenant Trigga'Happi, the Alaska's tactical officer, reported.

"Viper Flight GY3-001-1-1, First To Fight, to the USS Alaska. We are transmitting navigational data to you now. Do not deviate from the flight plan, or we will blast you into subatomic particles," a fighter pilot warned.

"Alaska to the First To Fight, wilco," will comply.

>

Aboard the GY3-001, one of 450 orbital defense stations defending Gongye III, Gonghe soldiers returned Capt Rice's Colt, Smith and Wesson B-29 revolvers after searching the Starfleet officer. "You may enter."

Capt Rice holstered his revolvers. "Thank you." The armored doors opened to let him enter the command center. "Good morning, Old Li."

Colonel Long Li, a Gonghe Army intelligence officer, greeted, "Good morning, Global. How may I help you?"

"The Alaska's mission is to explore the Chirk star system, near the Federation-Breen border."

"Reconnaissance. Is your ship equipped with a cloaking device?"

Capt Rice smiled. "The Treaty of Algeron prohibits Starfleet from equipping our vessels with cloaking devices."

'It is.' Col Li returned the smile-- he respected Capt Rice's determination to complete the mission at all costs. "Of course." He pressed a button to display a holographic map of the Breen Confederacy, with green symbols representing Breen military units. "This is the most recent data we have on the Breen defenses at the border. Note the minefields' positions..."

>

Across the border, Thot Terl stared a holographic map of the Gonghe Republic. 'I will bring an end to 108 years of humiliation,' the humiliation of suffering the Gonghe Republic's existence. The Breen officer studied all available reports on the Gonghe Republic in preparation for his mission. He knew the planets were colonized by Chinese People's Liberation Army (PLA) super soldiers, genetically engineered to fight Augments during the Eugenics Wars, and German engineers hired to design the colony ships-- the alliance was called the Gongye Hezuo Zuzhi, "Industrial Cooperation Organization," and abbreviated to Gonghe when the colonists formed their own government. He knew the right to bear arms was protected by the Gonghe Constitution-- written by soldiers, for soldiers-- and that 99.9% of the adult population were gun owners, ready to fight off an invasion.

He knew the humans were responsible for the deaths of his father and grandfather.

Terl's grandfather died when the accursed James Tiberius Kirk and the USS Enterprise intervened in the first Breen-Gonghe War in 2268 CE-- the Breen fleet, and the men who served in it, were annihilated. His father died in the Ker Incident, in 2344 CE, trying to conquer a star system on the Breen-Gonghe border-- the star was now called Shengli, the Chinese word for "Victory." Terl's father and grandfather remain unavenged-- the Gonghe Army and Navy, the humans' champions, annihilated the raiders Terl sent to "assess the Gonghe defenses."

Now the Breen were Dominion allies, receiving the resources needed to conquer the Gonghe Republic. Once Phase One of his plan was complete, Terl would being Phase Two and avenge his father and grandfather.

->

LOVE GUNS ZERO

An 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' fanfic by Sidewinder, 2007. Based on the story by Darth Fanboy, Falkenhorst, and MKSheppard-- itself based on stories by George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry.

->

Aboard the Alaska, Trigga'Happi drew his gunblade-- a .44 Magnum revolver-saber hybrid with a 91-centimeter-long blade. In his mind, he faced a warrior with a bat'leth-- the Klingon male parried the opponent's slashes, counterattacking with quick thrusts. "I am badass."

Lieutenant Junior Grade Kayla the Ring Warrior, the Alaska's security chief, frowned at him. "Why do you insist on carrying that phallic symbol of an oppressive military dictatorship?" Li Xiaolong, leader of the PLA super soldiers, designed the gunblade to fit his style of hand-to-hand combat-- the Gonghe military now issued gunblades engraved with winged tigers as awards for valor.

"I respect warriors, including those in government." Inspired by Robert A. Heinlein's novel 'Starship Troopers', the Gonghe government required citizens to serve for three years in the military, or six years as first responders (police officers, firefighters, and paramedics), or nine years as a civil servant. Only after the citizens had served, proving they were willing to put the people's needs before their individual needs, were they granted the right to vote or to be elected to public office.

"But...!"

"Captain on the bridge!"

Capt Rice turned to Trigga'Happi. "Playing with that toy again?"

The Klingon male smiled. "Do you wish to test your weapons against mine?"

"Not now-- we have work to do."

The Alaska's cloaking device was reverse-engineered from the one Capt Kirk 'salvaged' from a Romulan battlecruiser in 2268 CE. Although obsolete, it was still useful-- Capt Rice skillfully avoided sources of antiproton beams, which the Dominion used to detect cloaked vessels.

"We're 24 hours away from the Breen homeworld. With the info we have, we can sail through the Breen defenses like a hot knife through butter. Shall we avenge the Raid on San Francisco?" Kayla suggested.

"I'm afraid the Raid will be unavenged," Capt Rice stated. "For now. The Alaska will be destroyed before we can decapitate the Breen Confederacy, if we decloak to bombard the Breen homeworld."

'Coward,' Kayla didn't say. "Yes, Sir."

The Alaska dived to avoid a formation of Breen warships and Jem'Hadar fighters. "Sir, I'm detecting large amounts of trilithium, tekasite, and protomatter aboard these four fighters." Trigga'Happi pressed a button to display crosshairs on the Jem'Hadar fighters. "I believe they're armed with trilithium weapons."

Terror gripped the crewmembers' hearts. "Oh shit!" "They're gonna use them to destroy the Sun!" "Earth is doomed!" "We're doomed!"

"Not if we can help it." Capt Rice turned to Trigga'Happi. "Arm the Shock and Awe. Decloak on my command." The Alaska approached one of the targeted fighters. "Fire!"

Trigga'Happi decloaked the Alaska and fired the "awe" of the pulse phaser cannons to destroy one fighter. The Klingon targeted a second fighter, fired the "shock" of a quantum torpedo, and watched the fighter transform into a fireball.

The third and fourth fighters disappeared as the Breen warships maneuvered between Terl's Phase One and the escort. The Jem'Hadar fighters turned and rained phased polaron beams on the Alaska. "Evasive action!" The Alaska accelerated as the helmsman pushed and pulled the manual steering column, dodging incoming beams. "Where are the other fighters?!" Capt Rice demanded.

Trigga'Happi's fingers danced on the tactical console. "I found one!" Then phased polaron beams hit the ship, shaking her. The executive officer (XO), who foolishly neglected to wear his seatbelt, flew into the ceiling and broke his neck.

"Fire!" Capt Rice watched phaser beams and quantum torpedoes reach for the fighter-- then a second beam hit the Alaska. Static clouded the viewscreen. "Did we get it?"

Trigga'Happi pressed a button to clear the static and reveal the fighter, its left wing torn off. He fired a third torpedo at the fighter. "We got it."

"Where's the fourth fighter?!"

"Scanning..." The Alaska shook again. "Sir, shields are at 20 percent."

"Activate the cloaking device. I'm afraid we must live to fight another day." No one argued with Capt Rice's decision to run away. "Let's see if our luck will last until we reach Gongye III."

>

Aboard the Qin, Lieutenant Colonel Ren Teppou took a knee, feeling the point of her gunblade touch the floor. She opened a suitcase to reveal a portable altar to Donner, the German god of thunder. Because Gonghe culture merged those of China and Germany, the statue wore Ming Dynasty armor-- a Chinese dragon's head adorned Donner's hammer. Ren lit a stick of incense and planted it in front of the statue. "Prince Donner, protect us as we battle against the evil masks," the Breen. "Give us victory. Let us crush our enemies on a distant battlefield, so our loved ones may be safe at home," she prayed, thinking of her parents.

Red alert was triggered-- the dreadnought detected a threat. Ren put on her helmet to hear the tactical officer report, "Incoming, cloaked vessel, bearing seven o'clock low," through her helmet-mounted communicator. She ran out of her room, towards the hangar deck.

The Alaska, her ablative armor scorched and pitted by Breen and Jem'Hadar weapons, decloaked 40 kilometers from the Qin-- F-7 Vipers closed the distance in seconds, the fighters' belly-mounted Warthog torpedo volley systems ready to hammer the escort. 'Dear God, let our allies interrogate us for the IFF signal before they blast us into subatomic particles,' Capt Rice prayed. "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the USS Alaska, mayday. We have taken casualties in battle, and require medical assistance."

Capt Rice was lucky-- the IFF transmitter still functioned. "GGV Qin to Federation vessel, lower your shields and prepare to be boarded." Assault shuttles, carrying Gonghe soldiers, approached the escort.

"USS Alaska to GGV Qin, wilco." The soldiers spent one hour aboard the escort-- one platoon searched for Breen or Jem'Hadar infiltrators, while a second platoon provided first aid-- as the Qin escorted the Alaska to a shipyard.

>>

"We can replace the trilithium weapons in 17 years-- we require that amount of time to replenish our trilithium supplies," a Vorta reported.

Terl frowned at the Vorta. "We cannot delay Phase Two-- we must execute Phase One with the remaining trilithium weapon."

"Very well."

Terl's flagship, a Jem'Hadar battleship that was a "gift" from the Dominion, led a fleet of 1000 ships towards Gongye. 1,000,000 Breen and Jem'Hadar warriors served aboard the ships, ready conquer the Gonghe Republic.

Static clouded the viewscreen. "What the fuck is wrong with the viewscreen?!" Terl demanded.

"Sir, I'm detecting large amounts delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol, which is jamming our sensors." The tactical officer pressed a button to clear the static and reveal a space station-- a neon sign, reading, "UKIYO-- THE FLOATING WORLD" was mounted on the command center. "The source of the delta-9-tetrahydrocannabinol is apparently this space station."

"Destroy it," Terl ordered.

>

The target was a Leary station, a commercial space station where marijuana and opium poppies were grown, ecstasy and lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD) was manufactured, and Romulan ale was sold-- the Gonghe government tolerated this as long as a Leary station's operators paid double taxes. Aboard the station, sexaroids-- sex androids-- handed opium pipes to a pornographer and a mercenary.

"Fanboy, you're the man," Mark "Shep" Sheppard said as a sexaroid bounced on his lap, impaling herself upon his penis.

"I'm the man!" Fanboy shouted before inhaling enough opium to give a lesser man a fatal overdose.

Shin Teppou, the Leary station's operator, approached the mercenary. "Is there anything else I can get for you, Mister Fanboy?"

"Yeah, a blowjob."

Shin frowned. "I am not..."

"Not from you!" The mercenary pointed at a sexaroid. "From her!"

"Yes, Sir." The sexaroid unzipped Fanboy's pants-- then the ceiling and the floor switched places, throwing the mercenary off his chair.

"What the fuck...?"

>

Terl watched as the fleet bombarded the Leary station until it resembled a burning skeleton. Static clouded the viewscreen as more tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) leaked from holes in the Leary station's bulkheads. Then the static cleared to reveal... nothing. "Excellent." The Breen officer turned to the helmsman. "Continue the mission."

"Yes, Sir." Boom! "Sir, the warp core is offline."

Terl hovered over his chair as the artificial gravity generators went offline. "What...?" The battleship's stern, severed from the battleship's bow, floated in front of the viewscreen. "What the fuck happened to my ship?!"

The Skullfucker, a Firespray class patrol ship whose warp nacelles were disguised photon torpedo launchers, launched a second seismic charge. "That's for destroying the best Leary station in the whole damn galaxy!" Fanboy shouted as the charge detonated, blasting 24 Jem'Hadar battlecruisers and 45 fighters in half.

Aboard the battleship's bow, the Vorta deadpanned, "I advise you to transfer your flag--" He watched a third charge detonate, blasting 18 battlecruisers and 51 fighters in half. "While you still have another ship to transfer it to."

'Fuck!' "Abandon ship!" Terl ordered.

Aboard the Asskicker, Shep's D7-2 class battlecruiser, Shin was tying to hire Shep, who he assumed was a mercenary. "I cannot avenge the destruction of your Leary station-- I'm outnumbered and outgunned," the pornographer told the man, who claimed to be a descendent of samurai. "Besides, I doubt my friend will forgive the destruction of the best Leary station in the whole damn galaxy." He watched the Leary station's operator shiver in fear of Fanboy.

As the Asskicker sailed away, the Skullfucker rained laser beams on the fleeing Breen and Jem'Hadar ships.

>>

The Gonghe Navy's Tianjian class destroyer was a "stretched" variant of the Defiant class escort. Workers at the shipyard were trained to perform maintenance and repairs on the Defiant class escort. As they repaired the Alaska, Capt Rice named Trigga'Happi as the new XO. "Let's give the Jem'Hadar an ass-kicking so bad, they'll choke on their own guts."

"Yes, Sir."

"Sir, we've received a transmission from the Qin. A Dominion fleet, with 450 to 500 ships, is heading towards the Gongye system," the communications officer reported.

Capt Rice asked, "Have you transferred the data to HQ?" Starfleet Headquarters.

"I did so 30 seconds after we decloaked."

"Then hail the Qin-- ask them if we can offer any assistance."

"Yes, Sir." One minute later, the communications officer reported, "Sir, the Qin welcomes any assistance we can provide in the coming battle."

"Then let's go." The Alaska, her armor still scorched and pitted, sailed out of the shipyard.

The Gonghe Navy ships were firing their heavy and medium PENIS cannons, using their superior firepower to counter the Breen and Jem'Hadar ships' superior speed and maneuverability. Most of the beams missed, but those that hit transformed warships into burning wrecks. As the enemy fleet withdrew, F-7 Vipers were launched. Photon torpedoes flew in all directions-- fighters on both sides were transformed into fireballs.

In the confusion, three Jem'Hadar fighters accelerated towards Gongye.

The Alaska stood in front of the sun, using its light to blind the enemy to the escort's position. "Sir, I detect a trilithium weapon..."

"Destroy it," Capt Rice ordered.

"Three..." Trigga'Happi rained phaser beams and photon torpedoes on the Jem'Hadar fighters, transforming one into a fireball. "Two..." The second tried to ram the Alaska, but this maneuver put it in the pulse phaser cannons' line of fire. "One..." A torpedo hit the third, breaching its hull-- the Klingon detected trilithium particles leaking from the breach like blood from a wound. A second torpedo destroyed the fighter. "Zero."

"Good job, Lieutenant."

>

Aboard a Breen warship, Terl stared at Gongye, waiting for the trilithium weapon to make the sun to supernova-- once this occurred, the fleet would be free to attack Hezuo III, the Gonghe Republic's legislative capital. "What the fuck is taking them so long?!" The sun disappeared behind a shadow. "Finally!" He noticed the shadow had arms and legs. "What...?"

Ren's MS-9S Tyrant command mechanized striker (MS)-- an 18.5-meter-tall, 79-ton killing machine-- fired a photon torpedo at the bridge, killing everyone inside. "Target neutralized." The MS put its hands on the Breen warship's bow and pushed, throwing the ship in front of another-- the resulting collision destroyed both ships.

The Asskicker exited warp to let Shep see one of the biggest naval battles he'd ever seen. The communications officer reported, "Boss, Outer Heaven," a network for private military contractors and their employers, "has a message from the Gung-Ho," Gonghe, "Navy."

"Tell them to shut the fuck up," Shep answered. "I'm not a mercenary."

"Boss, they're offering a 1,000,000 yuan reward for each Breen warship we destroy, and 500,000 yuan reward for each Jem'Hadar fighter."

Shep's mind turned 180 degrees. "Tell them we're coming to their aid-- Daddy needs a new pair of shoes." The Asskicker accelerated to engage the enemy fleet, her disruptor cannons and torpedo launchers hammering any ships that got in the way.

The battle ended one hour later-- the Gonghe military, and the mercenaries hired to assist them, were victorious. Shin shouted, "Vengeance is mine!" as burning wrecks, all which remained of the enemy fleet, drifted in front of the Asskicker.

>>

Aboard the Skullfucker, Fanboy sat on a pile of gold-pressed latinum, drinking beer. He didn't get the full reward for the Breen and Jem'Hadar ships he destroyed-- the mercenary had to prevent the Gonghe military from learning about the seismic charges, which would make him a target-- but he still earned enough money to buy his own Leary station. "Not bad for a day's work." Fanboy swaggered into the cockpit. "Time to get some pussy." The patrol ship rocketed towards Planet GLOCK, home of Fanboy's favorite topless bar.

>

Aboard the Asskicker, Shep frowned at the two bishonen-- sexaroids resembling beautiful young men-- which Shin used to pay his fare. "How much are these things worth?"

"We are model 17M bishonen, multipurpose androids capable of serving as sex toys, servants, and/or bodyguards." A sexaroid opened a hidden compartment in his forearm, revealing a rail-- Shep knew it was designed to guide a pistol or knife from the compartment, to the sexaroid's hand. "Our market value is 180,000 to 200,000 yuan."

"I didn't know that samurai guy swung that way."

"Sir?"

"I was hoping for a pair of girl sexaroids, but," Shep shrugged. "360,000 to 400,000 yuan is not bad for a day's work." He turned to a crewman. "Take some photos of them so we can sell them on Eternal Rainbow," a network for distributors of gay pornography, "or wherever people go to buy bishonen."

"Sure thing, Boss."

>

Shin was the most frustrated man in the Gonghe Republic. A man of Japanese descent in a state dominated by those of Chinese descent, he constantly tried-- and failed-- to raise the standing of those of Japanese descent. He once tried to make Japanese one of the Gonghe Republic's official languages, after Mandarin, German, and American English, but a legislator told him, "Mandarin is the language of the people, German is the language of engineers, English is the language of diplomats and merchants. Japanese is the language of whores-- the Gonghe Republic doesn't need more whores," a reference to Shin's position as Chief Executive Officer (CEO) of a sex toy company, the galaxy's largest manufacturer of sexaroids. Shin defiantly ran for the Legislature, but his campaign alienated the 99.9% of the adult population who were gun owners, and he lost to a retired mercenary.

Then Shin tried to arrange a marriage between Ai, his eldest daughter, and a young legislator, thinking the resulting alliance would give him the political influence he needed. But Ai, the perfect woman, genetically enhanced to attract men of German descent, declared, "I'm a lesbian." Shin tried to save the alliance by arranging a marriage between Ren, his youngest daughter, and the legislator, but Ren decided to join the Army instead of becoming a trophy wife.

Shin's dream, to raise the standing of those of Japanese descent, became an obsession. He decided to raise an army and seek military honors, and ordered the sexaroids to be modified into combat androids. But trials showed the androids were as vulnerable to armor piercing explosive (APEX) bullets-- a Gonghe soldier's standard load-- as human beings.

The combat android project bankrupted the company-- Shin lost his position as CEO, leaving him with Ukiyo. Subatomic particles were all that remained of the Leary station-- Shin, whose obsession consumed most of his money, was penniless until the insurance company completed their investigation. So when a Starfleet officer visited the hotel where he was staying, Shin's interest was piqued.

"Good morning, Mister Teppou," the officer greeted.

Shin stared at the officer's rank insignia. "Good morning, Captain..."

"I am Global War On Terror Rice IX."

"You saved the executive capital from the effects of a trilithium weapon."

"I was only returning a favor." Capt Rice was awarded a gunblade, which was now displayed in the Alaska's ready room.

"How may I help a Gonghe hero?"

"Your company designed an assault ship based on the Galaxy class explorer."

"It's useless. According to simulations, the assault section," the saucer section, redesigned to land on a planetary surface, deploy thousands of soldiers, and return to space afterwards, "is too vulnerable during landing."

"I've studied the simulations-- an enemy must have defenses comparable to those of Gongye III to exploit this vulnerability. I believe the assault ship can be used to accomplish my mission."

"Which is?"

"To defend the Federation from its enemies. I am willing to pay any price to accomplish this mission."

Shin smiled-- he still had a copy of the assault ship's blueprints. "Then let us negotiate a reasonable price..."

->

Not the end.

Gonghe's population includes people of American and Israeli descent, whose ancestors refused to give up the right to bear arms after World War III. Only military service members and licensed mercenaries may legally use APEX bullets. Do not violate this law-- the police won't hesitate to ask the military for assistance in capturing a heavily armed criminal.

If anyone's curious, Tianjian means, "Heavenly Sword," Shin Teppou means, "Real Guns," and Ren Teppou means, "Romancing Guns."

Terl is named after a character created by L. Ron Hubbard.

Nomura Tetsuya designed the gunblade for 'Final Fantasy VIII'-- the weapon used the firing of a cartridge to vibrate the blade and increase the damage caused by a slash or thrust. In comparison, the Gonghe military's gunblades fire bullets, and is a useful long-range weapon.

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 striker is based on the MS-9F Dom Tropen from 'Mobile Suit Gundam'-- created by Tomino Yoshiyuki and Sunrise.

[Sidewinder]

WEll as I told Sidewinder feel free to continue writing interludes, because if they are half as good as this they could make it into the UPF Canon.

Thanks, although my stories tend to focus on the right to bear arms-- to a ridiculous degree, considering that armor piercing explosive bullets are expended like beer-- instead of porn. Do you think I should change the focus a little?

[Lonestar]

Interlude

Dink Dink

"Ahh yeah bu-bu-baby, you like that, don't you?" David moved forward, back and forth, thrusting his Gnomish winkie into the poor Armadillo. The violated Dasypodidae whimpered as David grasped his grubby hands around the neck. "Shhhh..."

There was a beep, and his executive assistant, Winky, patched through over the intercome.

"Sir, there is an Aeroshuttle approaching the base. The owners are requesting a meeting with you."

"Fu-Fuck! I told you I wasn't to be-be disturbed! Tell them to fu-fuck off!"

"Yes Sir."

David sighed, and went to work again. Ever since the disaster that had befallen the SEGNOR leadership, he had taken over quite a bit of the Gnomish operations. Sitting here in this (new)Asteroid base, he had salvaged the contacts and trades rights that had given them strength to begin with. Through faith and discipline, he had restored Gnomish prosperity. Of course, he was a dirty little animal fucker, but who cared? The Armadillo whimpered again.

"Qwa--Quiet! You'll take it like a like a man!"

The intercom beeped again.

"What??"

"I'm sorry sir, but there are two Federation Humans here, and they are insisting that they speak to you. One of them says he knows you by the name 'Operative Rogue Ice'." There was a faint note of puzzlement in her voice. David's hands spasmed and broke the armadillo's neck. He dropped it on the floor, his now flaccid Gnome penis resembling a mutilated Vienna Sausage.

"Stuh---stall them!"

"Too late sir, they're going forcing their way in..."

David looked down at the Armadillo corpsed, pulled up his pants, picked up the corpse, and threw it into a locker. He closed the locker door but failed to lock it when Section 31 Agent Lone Starr and a man known only as "Gunny Rhainsford" entered his quarters. Rhainsford was carrying his M60, like he always did. Starr smiled.

"Ice, good to see you. I see that Swift is still with you." The red fox was lying on the couch watching the whole incident. "Got any Dr. Pepper?" Without waiting for an answer he walked over to the fridge and opened it up.

"Fu-fuck no! That shit tastes like Horse piss and vinegar!"

"Watch it." Starr had turned back. "You've done well for yourself in the time since I've last seen you."

"I'm doing okay!"

Starr nodded. "Yes...the unpleasantness with the SEGNOR leadership. Tell me, how'd you like to get revenge for your fellow Gnomes?"

"I couldn't gu-give two shits!"

"I want all the information pertaining to Shep and Falkenhorst that you have, Ice." Starr took two steps forward. Ice took two steps back, and bumped into the locker. Startled, he jumped up and the door swung open, with the Armadillo corpse fall out.

"You little cocksucker!" Starr lifted David up. David could see the Texas A&M ring on his right hand. Starr's right hand reached for his .45...

..when Swift attacked his right calf. Starr swore, dropped David, and booted the fox across the room. The fox hopped right back up and started makign a close approximation of a growl.

"Tough little shithead." Starr raised his .45 at the fox.

"Swu...Swift! Giant size!"

And before Starr's eyes the foxe grew to roughly twice the size of a Grey wolf. Swift jumped forward, only to be cut down by a hail of bullets from Rhainsford.

"You fu-fu-fuckers! You th-think I'll let you get away with that?" David pushed a button on his watch, and hidden doors in the bulkheads opened up.

Out came nightmares.

Grotesque, Cybernetic monstrosities, including one very large individual that had clearly been Darth Garden Gnome before he was patched back to together. Starr and Rhainsford looked around, and notcied a column was heading down the passageway they just came from.

"Well," Starr said, pointing his gun at David. "I can still kill you."

"I duh-doubt that! Gaerdal Ironhand's might!" Something happened. David grew to well over nine feet tall, and his Gnomish body, already disproportioned, became more so. His skin turned leathery, taking on the look of Kevlar. In his hand was a Mace that was cackling with lightening.

"I'm...I'm th-the Messiah of th-the Gnomes! The-the Gods know this! Now I'll teach you, you sons of bitches! Dink Dink!"

"DINK DINK" came the unearthly chant of the automations.

"Ah, Fuck." Starr said.

[Sidewinder]

Rhainsford was carrying his M60, like he always did.

I've heard that M60s were unreliable, i.e., they jam easily-- NOT something you want to happen in a firefight. Why doesn't Rhainsford use the MG3?

[Lonestar]

I've heard that M60s were unreliable, i.e., they jam easily-- NOT something you want to happen in a firefight. Why doesn't Rhainsford use the MG3?

Because the M60 is what Rhainsford used in real life.

[Darth Fanboy]

Shep scratched his head as he watched Fanboy pull a flask of bootleg gin out of his jacket pocket. "So what you're saying is..."

"The Grinch fucked up, pure and simple." DF said as he emptied the contents of the flask into the lukewarm cup of slop that passed for coffee in the diner.

"I don't get it. I mean he did everything he could without arousing too much suspicion. In the end the Whos were to incorruptible, more so than real human beings. I don't think he fucked up so much as he never had a chance to begin with."

"That's where you're rong my irradiated friend." Fanboy said. "You see, the whole point of that story was that the Whos still enjoyed their holiday because they had each other. If he wanted to ruin the holiday he should have killed at least one family member from each household. They wouldn't have been singing come Christmas Day if everyone in town had woke up the next morning to find their disembowled family members under the tree."

"That's pretty fucking sick man. Best to just blow up the whole town and be done with it."

"No arguing here, except that this is the Grinch we're talking about here. He is one demented psycopath. Our kind of guy. He gets his jollies off of watching people suffer. He probably got kicked out of a bondage club or two for going overboard. He watched the movie Se7en just for a cheap laugh. I'll bet he works at the Who-ville DMV!"

"Okay, so he wants to see people suffer, but if that's true then how come at the end of the Story he ends up going all buddy buddy with the Whos?"

Fanboy slugged down the last of the foul concoction in his cup. "Moychendizing." He said, perfectly mimicking YOgurt from the Mel Brooks classic film SPACEBALLS. "You really think people are going to shell out a few bucks to hear the tale of how the Grinch went door to door cutting up kindly old ladies and orphaning children and topping it all off by throwing Cindy Lou Who in a woodchipper to make her stop crying after she sees him dousing their tree in gasoline and igniting the fire that wipes out her whole family?"

"That's just sick man."


"Only if it was a real child, but the Whos are all Fictional characters man."

"Still, you can''t write a holiday special where Cindy Lou Who is thrown in a wood chipper. EVEN WE HAVE STANDARDS."

"Well what if I replace it with a scene where the Grinch walks in on her parents dressed up as Santa and Mrs. Claus with Santa doing MRs. Claus from behind with a large phallic shaped Candy Cane?"


"Seems a little pedestrian."

"But get this, Mrs. Who is dressed as Santa, and is pegging Mr. Who from beind in what can only be described as a sickeningly tight green elf costume."

"Ick, i'm cringing. Means that it's good to go."

"Cool then, so I have approval?"

"I guess. But remember."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I can't toss that little kid in a wood chipper, no matter how much she deserves it. Smug little bitch though she is."

CATCH THE UPF HOLIDAY SPECIAL! SCHEDULED FOR RELEASE SOMETIMER BETWEEN THANKSGIVING AND JUNE!

[Sidewinder]

Dear Fanboy Claus:

Please put an army of hot lesbian elves in the UPF holiday special. Thank you.

Merry Christmas!

Little Sidewinder

[Darth Fanboy]

Episode -1, Part VIII


D,

If you haven't figured it out by now, then it goes without saying, i've gone somewhere else. We've been terrific together, and I will always
love you and be grateful for everything you've done for me. But I can't live the rest of my life with you trying to protect me, and having you shelter me every time you go off and earn money for the future that we should be building together.

I'm sure it's hurting you just as much to read this as it hurts me to write this, so i'll keep it short. You'll always be the one for me. If you ever feel lonely just look out at the stars and know that i'm out there somewhere. Not that it means much, but there is a file attachment on this data card. It's my favorite picture of us, it was right after we got married and we were pulling that heist on Luna. I still can't believe you had the balls to just give those Feds the finger with all three of them pointing phaser rifles at you, if I hadn't detonated that EMP...

I guess that's the point of what i'm trying to say. We were a team, and somewhere along the line we stopped being a team and you started taking on all of the burden. Well I don't want to be your burden any more, I want you to be happy D, it's what i've always wanted ever since you freed me from that horrible place.

I love you D, always will

5th Xenobatallion Field Hospital, Exmodeus III

The field hospital was about as miserable of a hospital as Fanboy had ever seen, but it still had its advantages over their tent. There was a cot large enough that Fangirl could sit with him, and there were fewer people there since the now paranoid Romulan Commanders had sent every able body to defensive positions, there would be no more restful periods save for the wounded, and Fanboy still qualified as such.

The medics had mended his cracked ribs and stitched his flesh, but the damaged muscle tissue would take longer to heal. Never one to listen to a doctor's opinion, Fangirl had decided to test her lover's physical condition with tests of her own. She had him seated on the cot, his pants off and her top removed.

"Good to know THAT still works." She said playfully, her tongue dancing across her lips as she admired his proud erection. She leaned in to him and rubbed her incredibly ample chest in his face, and slowly trickled down until she was eye to eye with him.

As they met with a passionate kiss, Fangril began playing with her own left nipple as her other hand grabbed Fanboy by the back of his head, allowing her to force her tongue in deeper. When they broke the kiss she regained her smile and proceeded to slink down his body until her face was in front of what she desired.

Her mouth opened only slightly as her tongue reached out to lick the tip of his manhood. with her hands and knees on the floor and her chest sticking out, Fangirl swirled her tongue over the head. Normally she was not quite so submissive, but there were times when she truly got off by subjecting herself to the whims and pleasures of her husband.

Steadying herself on her knees, she repositioned herself slightlyand began to use her right hand to caress Fanboy's entire cock as she took the first couple of inches into her mouth. She pressed her tongue firmly on the undersideand began rocking her head back and forth, eliciting a groan from Fanboy, who had started clenching the sheet beneath him in his hands tightly.

With her throat now properly relaxed, Fangirl put both hands on the base of Fanboy's girth and slid her head over his entire length. She lifted her head and repeated this several times and moaned intensely when Fanboy placed his head on the back of her head, running it through her hair.

She lifted her head again and this time brought Fanboy completely out of her mouth, she looked up at him and grinned as her now free right hand began to stroke him smoothly.

"You know, there is something we haven't done in a while...one of your favorites" she said with a mischeivous edge in her voice.

Fanboy was dumbfounded. He could have sworn that, since reuniting with her and signing up with the Romulan Mercenary forces, that he had fucked her in all of his favorite ways completely. His memory returned to him though, as Fangirl procured a small vial from a pocket on her gear belt.

"I remember that lotion, from Earth right?"

Fangirl nodded, it was a special blend handmade back on Earth, a very expensive one at that. As a gift, Fanboy had once hijacked a cosmetics freighter and stolen an entire case of the stuff, leaving the rest of the goods and the dumbstruck crew behind.

"That's right love," Fangirl said coyly, "and you do remember what we used it for right?"

"How could I forget?" Fanboy said, overwhelmed with anticipation.

Fangirl began to apply the contents of the vial, applying a generous amount to her palsm before dropping the vial and taking his shaft in her hands. Knowing that he was still sensitive from what she had just done to him, she tightened her grip on him with both hands and worked them around, causing him to exhale deeply.

After a minute of that, she worked her left hand up and down his length while using the palm of her right hand to rub all over the soft head of his cock. He was extra senstive there, and she knew it. Using the palm of her hand she rubbed carefully in small circles.

She could tell it was working, because Fanboy's arms had stiffed completely and the bedsheets beneath him were tightly wrapped around his hands.

Feeling confident that he was now "prepared" she reached down with her hands and hefted her breasts up towards him, wrapping them around his slickened cock and squeezing them together, moving them up and down as he moaned again.

This had been something she had done for him on rare occaisions before when they were together, not because she disliked it, but because she knew that he was enamoured with her breasts and she decided to use them this way for special moments.

As she moved her breasts Fangirl noticed that Fanboy had begun to lift his hips slightly, moving them in perfect synch with her own motion. She could tell he was really getting into it. Before long he had begun to grind himself into her chest more and more and was steadily losing control of his orgasm.

Anticipating his release, and extremely turned on, Fangirl lowered her head and began to use her tongue on the tip of his cock again. The combined stimulations overwhelmed Fanboy and before long his breathing had become labored and his entire body had clenched.

"Oh fuck...."

Fangirl knew what was going to happen, she raised her head and looked right at him, meeting his eyes with hers and smiling. "Do it." She said, her tone was still playful, but it had lost its submissive feeling and had gained a more authoritarian one.

Fanboy came hard and fast, Several white ropes burst from him and landed across Fangirl's chest and neck as she leaned her head back, gasping with excitement.

With the blood quickly rushing away from his head, Fanboy slowly slide off of the bed and joined his beloved on the floor, offering her his bedsheets as a towel.

She accepted and began to clean herself off. "I think i'll let those doctors know that you're starting to feel better."

"I'd wake up from a coma if it meant that you'd do that for me. I must have been really good, because you only ever did that once in a while."

"Well I wasn't going to, but I figured you had earend I a good orgasm, and I can't expend too much of my energy on one of our patented marathon fuck session what with the special assignment coming up."

"Special assignment? What Special assignment?" Fanboy asked, he was still in a very mellow frame of mind, but he had begun to grow nervous.

Fangirl sighed, she had wanted to put off this conversation as long as possible, possibly even avoid it altogether. "Don't look so surprised, this is partially your fault you know. That raid last night scared the bajeezus out of the Rommies, and because us mercenaries were the only ones effective in the fighting Shinzon has decided that he's going to have us spearhead the attack. I was picked as part of a small group that's going to go in ahead of the main attack and secure all of the technological plunder we can find."

Fanboy was about to protest, but before he could get a word in edgewise, Fangril struck him in the jaw with a perfectly timed right cross.

"Don't you dare say that it's too dangerous, because that's the sort of thinking that caused me to leave you in the first place, and before your ego kicks in yes you were considered for the assignment but this ugly ass Reman Commander named Vkruk that put together the team says you aren't in good enough shape for the infiltration team, but that you'll be permitted to earn your share when the main attack starts."

Fanboy was quiet, and he stayed quiet.

"So you aren't going to say anything at all then. Because the only thing you can think of right now is my own personal safety. God Dammit D! I should have known this was going to happen, but there's a lot of cash up for grabs if I pull this off and i'm not going to have you dragging me down!"

Fangirl gathered her things to go prepare for the mission. Fanboy remained where he was, still silent, and still seething. Yet he could not understand whether he was more angry with her, or with himself?

Quickly he banished all of those thoughts and closed his eyes, angst rarely befit a mercenary.

"I'll skip the emo bullshit, and we'll talk about it when it's all said and done. If I have to apologize again so be it, but i'm not losing her again. No way."

Shinzon's Flagship, in orbit over Exmodeus III

"Everything is in place?" Shinzon said as he looked down at the world of Exmodeus III from the viewport of his Warbird's observation deck.

"They are Admiral," Vkruk confirmed. "A strike team of mercenaries has been assembled to lead the attack and secure Dominion technology. The cloning vats should be there, as should anything else that the Dominion has managed to scavenge from the Borg Cube."

Shinzon turned and looked toward his trusted aide. "And do the mercenaries suspect anything?"

"No Admiral, we've spread the word that the Mercenaries are leading the attack because of their performance in the battle. They have no idea that the Borg inside the cube have awakened and begun assimilating Jem'Hadar."

Grabbing his sides, Shinzon began hacking and weezing. "Then the operation is to commence as soon as our commanders on the planet have finished with their preparations. I don't need to remind you of the price of failure now do I colonel?"

The Reman, with his unflinching resolve, knew and accepted the consequences as did all soldiers of his species. "We shall not fail you Admiral, this battle and this war are as good as ours."

"The sooner the better Vkruk. Whatever it is about these damned Borg they're making my own condition worse and I'm not about to let this drag out any longer. Did you manage to bring me any intelligence of value from the Dominion base?"

Vkruk's expression turned unsually sour, even for a Reman. "It appears that they have been overrun. The surviving Dominion troops are holed up within their buildings and will not last long. With the way the war was proceeding, it is almost a certainty that they will not be recieving any reinforcements either..."

Dominion Encampent, Exmodeus III

"What do you mean we can't bring in reinforcements!" Dizel barked at the Cardassian tech in front of him.

"I mean exactly what I said Vorta!" We cannot contact Cardassia! We cannot be sure if it is the Romulans, the Borg, or this some part of this accursed planet itself but something is preventing us from making long range communications."

Dizel repressed a yell, and then clasped his hands in the typical arrogant posture of a Vorta commander. "I guess I should not be surprised, if only we had real Dominion engineers, or perhaps even some of your more competent Breen counterparts, then we probably would not be in this mess now would we?"

The Cardassian broke towards the Vorta in a rage, and was prepared to leap over Dizel's desk and snap him in pieces. However, before he could do so, Dizel's Jem'Hadar guard grasped the Cardassian by his collar and pulled him backwards, letting him fall to the floor.

"The price of mutiny," Dizel threatened as he regained his composure, "is death." He turned to the Jem'Hadar guard and gave the order.

"Kill the traitor now."

As much as Jem'Hadar normally approved of Cardassian executions, the soldier was reluctant to comply with the oirder, only his genetic programming kept him from doing exactly what the Cardassian had attempted himself. It only took one shot with his rifle, point blank at the Cardassian's forehead, to finish the job.

"Dispose of him, string him up somewhere where the other Cardassians can see him, and make sure that they do. Let them know that they exist here on our whim. If they didn't have sensitive technological knowledge i'd feed them to the damned Borg!"

Complying, the Jem'Hadar dragged the body out of Dizel's office. Dizel reclaimed the small pistol he had admired before, and briefly considered that it might be time for his service to end. In the end, he relented, there was still work to be done in the name of the Founders. His life was not his own to take until that work was complete. If the techs weren't motivated enough out of fear now they would be once they saw their fellow's corpse on display. It would be up to them to make contact and begin work on transmitting the data. The Trans-warp technology research would be greatly useful, and at least one breaktrhough was made regarding the Borg's adaptive shielding.

But most interesting to Dizel was the Borg's assimilation of a weapons technology from the Delta Quadrant, a working copy of a Thalaron radiation device capable of depopulating entire worlds. One that had been strikingly easy to recreate here in the base itself, they very same one that would also serve as the Dominion's failsafe should the Borg or the Romulans break through.

[The Vortex Empire]

YES! YES! YES! Finally!

[Darth Fanboy]

LAST TIME...ON UNNAMED PORNO FANFIC



DARTH GARDEN GNOME, once thought dead, has survived and reclaimed his authority from ACE PACE. Using time travel, he has conquered the galaxy and built a powerful military using co-opted Borg Technology. Hope is not lost, as the Adult Merchant Ship ASSKICKER was saturated with a rare strain of Quantum Tetrahydrocannibol from the Potsmoke of DARTH FANBOY. A sliver of hope remains for the universe.

In an effort to travel back in time and undo the damage made to the timeline by the gomes, the Elite Principality of Zeon operative ZAIA commandeered the refurbished D-7 co-owned by SHEPPARD and FALKENHORST.

Unfortunately the attempt chronological repair was cut short as the ASSKICKER's transmission blew out since FALKENHORST had restored the ship using mostly old car parts and duct tape.

As fate would have it though, just as our heroes were facing destruction at the hands of a pair of Gnomish Cubes, a mysterious individual appeared on the bridge of the ASSKICKER, and triggered a plot device...


UNNAMED PORNO FANFIC CHAPTER XXXIV: ENTER THE ACADEMIAN or IF THE UNIVERSE IS AN ASSHOLE, WE ARE THE ANAL BEADS.


"Wow! It is you! It really is you! The most infamous pornlords of the third millenium! Fhep and Salk!"

"Just who the fuck are you?" Falk demanded. "How do all of these fucking cocksuckers keep showing up on my god damned ship. Nog, check the pressurization in here, someone must have left open a fucking window!"

"My, I never expected the greatest heroes of our time to be so...colorful!" The mysterious individual said as he held up what appeared to be a tricorder on steroids. "My genetic scan tells me that you must be Salk! Which means that this gentleman over here must be Fheppard. Oh it is so good to meet you!"

Sheppard's brow furled. "Likewise...I guess. Now if you could answer my associate's question and just tell me who you are?"

"Oh i'm afraid I can't do that, you see, that would be in violation of the Temporal Prime Directive. I'm a student from twelve thousand years in the future, a bit of an Academia Nut if you will I suppose. I'm writing an essay on the great heroes Fhep and Salk. I'm just storing my Temporal Shuttlecraft in your cargo hold, there were a few crates I had to transport into space but i'm sure you don't mind seeing as how they were full of nothing but milk anyways."

Falk's face went beet-red as his anger boiled. "You mean you just ditched our ENTIRE cargo of Betazoid breastmilk into space? I oughta fucking shoot you right now!" With that, Falk unholstered his pistol and aimed it right at the young man's head.

Zaia stood by with her Martini Henry rifle, "Did you say...Temporal Shuttle?"

The frightened young Academia Nut nodded his head feverishly. "Why...yes ma'am! A fine one also, the latest in Carfederklingomulengian Republic technology. Of course I cannot allow you to see it, as it would be a..."

"Shut up! Just shut up! Sheppard can I shoot him NOW?" Falk screamed as he stepped in closer, pressing the barrel of his gun to the man's head.

"Cool it Falk, if what this chump is saying is true, we can make a hell of a lot more money than selling teatjuice. Although if he calls us 'Fhep and Salk' instead of 'Shep and Falk' one more time you can kick him in the balls.

"Shep and Falk? Then the historical texts are wrong! Either that or perhaps i've entered a further deviation from my own timeline than I had thought, you see, according to the 'Many Worlds' theory there are infinite..."

The Academia Nut's lecture was cut off by a swift kick in the groin from a now satisfied Falkenhorst. "Nog, what's the status of those Cubes out there?"

Nog punched up a few commands on his console, rendered partially useless in the Slingshot attempt. "The Borg...errr...the Gnomes are attempting to fire their main weapon but it appears they can't reach the firing switch. They are trying to create a pyramid of gnomes so that one of them can climb up to the switch and I don't know how many more times they are going to fall over before they get it!"

"There isn't much choice then," Zaia said. "You stay here and try to save yoruselves, I am going to take that time machine and stop the Gnomes from altering history."

"Oh is that what you think?" Falk said. "Listen gorgeous, Nerd guy over there said that WE are the heroes of history. So it's pretty obvious that we have to go or you're just going to screw it up, you'll probably get lost in the past because of your driving skills and end up crashing into a shoestore back in the 20th centu...OW!"

Sheppard slapped Falk in the back of the head, hoping to keep Zaia from being to offended so that he could make his move later. "What Falkenhorst meant to say, s that we are obviously required for this mission. Besides, the Time Machine is on OUR ship and if we're going to go off saving the universe, then we might as well make some fucking money."

"You don't have to do this, it's too dangerous, and besides you can't just..."

"GUYS." Came a loud voice over the intercom, it was Fanboy. "I FOUND A TIME MACHINE IN THE HOLD, I'LL BE RIGHT BACK."

Zaia, Shep, and Falk all looked at each other in horror as they realized that thier window of opportunity was closing, not to mention the potentially devastating consequences that the mercenary could have on the timeline if allowed to depart unchecked.

Thinking fast, Zaia knocked out the Academia Nut with a swift uppercut and began sprinting off of the bridge with Shep close behind.

"Nog!" Falk yelled. "Keep that dipshit company and try not to get killed. If I get back and my ship isn't fixed I'm going to cut off your ears, piss in them, and then send you back in time so that you can relive your experiences with Dr. Bashir, you got that?"

This terrified the young Ferengi. "Absolutely sir, just try not to fuck up!"

"If I had the time i'd beat your ass for that." Falk threatened as he ran to the hold.


FORTRESS OF FANFIC SOLITUDE, CENTER OF THE FANFIC GALAXY.

The Golden Age had entered its twelfth month, and the Prime Dalton was pleased. With the apparent demise of Unnamed Porno Fanfic, the Daltons had managed to begin repairing the precious fabric of continuity in all of existence.

The Lord of all Fan-Created Realties, it was Prime Dalton who reaped the benefits of this the most, and his power expanded rapidly as the Dark Cloud of Dischord faded away. As he walked through his palace, he passed by the Interdimensional Monitoring Station that allowed the Daltons to peer into the various universes, and he was pleased. Various fictions from the worlds of Evangelion, Transformers, Star Wars, and Warhammer 40k blossomed before him, giving him strength.

AS he turned away to enjoy a few private moments with his collection of Zaia action figures, confiscated from the UPF-verse many moons ago, The Prime Dalton stopped and sneezed, an unusual occurence, for since the beginning of the Golden Age he had been in perfect health.

"My Lord!" Screamed Dalton #8472, an alien version of the Original Dalton with bizarre limbs and a pink, bony, skeletal structure. "We have encountered a terrible vergence in a dormant sector!"

Prime Dalton moved over to the station where his minions were seated. "It's probably that bastard Chris O'Farrell, which is fine. We haven't had any updates from that sector since..."

"Forgive me, my leige, but it is not the O'Farrellverse." Replied Dalton #414, who was adorable in his green pointed hat and tunic, with a wooden sword strapped to his back. "It's broadcasting something, if we access the broadcast we might be able to discover its origin."

"Do it." Ordered the Prime Dalton. #414 brought up the broadcast on his station and routed the singal through the master audio system.



Were no strangers to love
You know the rules and so do i



Prime Dalton struggled to recognize the tune, but anger and hate welled up inside of him as its significance dawned on him. The other Dalton's appeared to be confused by it, all save for Dalton 1987, who donned his trenchcoat and sunglasses and began dancing and singing along.



Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you



Prime Dalton raised mighty hand and telekinetically "ROB SMASH"ed Dalton #1987. #1987 exploded into a fine pulp and his outdated clothing became stained red with blood and entrails.

"Clean up this mess," Prime Dalton ordered. "Nobody rickrolls the Fortress of Fanfic Solitude and gets away with it! Now just where is this damned song coming from! Is it the Coffeeverse? The Sidewinderverse?"

Dalton #8472 punched a few keyes and his eyes widened in horror. "My Lord...it's coming from...UPF!"

"UPF! Those mongrels!" Prime Dalton put on a strong face for his underlings, but his nerves were fraying rapidly. "Just what is it, another pathetic interlude? Or maybe another chapter of that lame Fanboy origin story?"

"No exalted one," 8472 cringed, ",it's the main storyline. They've stolen a time machine and co-opted another fanfic author as a cameo! There has been a marked destabilization in the reality barriers!"

A terrible explosion rocked the Fortress, sending minions scrambling and tables of delicious pastries tumbling to the floor. The Prime Dalton, nauseated and light headed, promptly vomited on the floor, causing Dalton #10075 and his three nipples to slip in the puddle as he walked past. As soon as it had began, the Golden Age had ended.

"Not even a new chapter of Star Crossed could immediately repair things!" Prime Dalton yelled. "We will have to take extreme measures to deal with this. Send the Naga to our deepest Volcano and open a portal above the UPF Author's residences and destroy them!"

"But Exalted One! That's from an original fictions, not a fanfic, we don't have access to that reality!"

"Then find a reality that we can access with the Firepower to destroy UPF! This I command!" Yelled the Prime Dalton. "I don't care what it takes!"



ASSKICKER CARGO HOLD

"Oh you guys want to go too? I was just going to be a minute, figured I'd go score some blow off of Lindsay Lohan and do a few lines off of Britney Spears' scalp." Fanboy said deadpan, with no idea what was taking place.

"Why did you hire him again?" Zaia asked as she took the co-pilots seat and began examining the controls, which were not too dissimilar from the less functional but aesthetically pleasing flat panel piloting controls used by most Federation ships.

"It's not like we had a choice, we had to get out of that Gnome Asteroid as fast as we could and unfortunately we promised the guy more money than we had." Sheppard said, as he and Falk squeezed into the passengers area.

Zaia didn't buy it. "But you guys make incredible amounts of money, just where the fuck does it all go?"

"It's complicated," Shep said, "A lot of our cash is tied up in assets, and more of it has to be ran though our subsidiaries in order to properly launder...err...legitimately account for..."

"Shut the fuck up shep. She might be five and a half feet of eye candy to you but she's still a fucking cop no matter how you look at it."

Shep sat in silence, his comrade was right. "Look lady, we're stuck with you right now but that's it! MY friend here is just smitten because he's never seen a girl that can handle a gun better than him that's all. Besides, i've seen better tail than you before."

"Is that so?" Zaia said as she smirked. "Even that hairy fuckbuddy of yours on Vega Mr. Falkenhorst? Oh that's right, Zeon knows about you, we know everything, I don't need that lovestruck nukehead to tell me what I need to know about your operation. I just have to open up a file. We've had enough dealings with smut peddlers to know they aren't to be trusted, no matter the quality of their wares."

Annoyed, but not surprised, Falk dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Yeah? well I know that the Principality of Zeon has more civilian traffic accidents than any other civilized nation, just make sure that you don't steer us into a black hole or something."

Now Zaia was the irritated one. "I really should shoot you, I really really really should shoot you."

"Hah! You can't! You're sworn to protect the timeline and Shep and I are supposed to be heroes!"

A disgusted Fanboy interjected. "Will you two shut up? I'd like to go find some loose celebrity skanks by the time my buzz wares off. Time travel motherfuckers!"

"Hold on," Zaia pleaded. "We need to properly plot a course, we can't just jump around time all...."

"Sorry! Can't hear you! I'm a fucking time traveller!" Fanboy said with a menacing delight as he began pushing random buttons. The time Capsule began to glow with a bright light and vanished from the Asskicker's hold.

On the bridge of the Asskicker, Nog and the Academia Nut worked to get the ship underway. The Academia Nut was despondent, "Oh man, I'm gonna be in so much trouble..."

Nog just laughed. "Dude, you just gave the two most influential pornographers, a Militant Lesbofascist Commando, and the most doped up Mercenary in History a time machine. If anything we're ALL in trouble."

"Are you serious?" The student screamed. "Oh fuck, they're going to start calling me 'Janeway'! It will be worse than that motherfucker that went back in time and started telling people that the universe was ruled by some alien named Xenu so he could scam some money out of them!"

[Darth Fanboy]

One quick reqrite was done in UPF Chapter 16 (the Jabba's Asshole Trilogy). I felt that there was someone far more deserving to play the role of the hapless mercenary that has to crawl up Jabba's Hutthole. Check out Chapter 16 to find out who!

For those who don't fell like it, it's Brianeyci.

[Fleet Admiral JD]

FUCK YES!

Love it.

[Sidewinder]

Cool. I laughed when the gnomes were unable to use a superweapon because they were too fucking short to reach the FIRE button.

By the way, are the UPF stars still going to the 40th millenium to pick up some firepower? (It might be entertaining to see Zaia getting it on with the Sisters of Battle, or your namesake in a drinking contest with some Space Wolves.)

[Darth Fanboy]

Patience young Sidewinder, in time, the smut will come to you.

[Falkenhorst]

Hey Fanboy, should I deploy my lost chapter of UPF: nBSG?

[Darth Fanboy]

Affirmative!

Are the Cylons a rebellious product line of pleasure droids? Or just bitter mechanical oppressors resentful of their lack of a a mechanical equivalent for genitalia?

[Darth Fanboy]

LAST TIME....ON UNNAMED PORNO FANFIC....

The Academia Nut's time travelling ship was stolen by the UPF crew and Zaia as they set out to undo the Gnomes manipulation of the timestream. As with all things UPF, this can only go very wrong...

UNNAMED PORNO FANFIC CHAPTER XXXV: "DON'T BE A TARDASS" or "WITH WHO AM I SPEAKING?"

Fanboy, in his misguided and erratic haste, somehow had managed to simultaneously activate the time ship's warp drive and temporal drive. This propelled the ship back along it's course to it's point of origin, while also flinging it hundreds of years into the past.

"Fuck fuck fucking fuck!" Screamed Falkenhorst as the ship rattled and rolled, which caused him to suffer from incredible motion sickness. "Fanboy If I puke I am going to shoot you!"

"If you puke and it lands on me I'll shoot you!" Shep screamed as he too was overcome with nausea.

"Both of you idiots put both your dicks and your guns away. I'm trying to steer!" Zaia shouted as she reached back and swatted them both.

Fanboy laughed uncontrollably as he swallowed two glowing green pills he procured from his gear belt. Zaia spotted the glow out of the corner of her eye and her jaw dropped in horror. "Was that Andorian Ecstacy?"

"Might be, either that or a dose of Cardassian Acid, I can't rmeember which, only one way to find out." Fanboy said as he casually swalled two more of the pills and rolled his eyes into the back of his head.

"Well try and keep your head together until we land, we have a job to do and we can't just....shit!"

The abrupt change in Zaia's sentence caused Fanboy to laugh harder. "I would hope that we don't crap our pants!"

"That's not what I meant you idiot! The proximity alarms just went off! We're about to hit someth......"


Another ship fired out of the timestream a split second right behind the time pod and crashed into the side of the ship. Both time travelling vessels spun out of control and began to plummet towards the atmosphere, where they were quickly engulfed in Earth's atmosphere and spiraled down, crashing into a hillside in a green field. Less than a hundred meters away from the time pod's crash site was the time travelling ship that had struck them, now buried half deep in a crater of its own.

"Everyone OK?" Zaia asked, secretly hoping for a lack of responses and disappointed when all three responded quickly.

Falkenhorst was angry as hell, and it was made even worse when he pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket, only to find that it had been wrecked from the crash.. "Fanboy, as long as we're still paying you, get your ass over there and beat the shit out of whoever it was that ran into us, break his legs if you can. That fucking shitbag doesn't know how hard it is to find a hand rolled cigar in the 24th century!"

Fanboy, only slightly mellowed out by the pills, agreed and began to sprint the distance between the two crashed vessels.

"So what time exactly are we in?" Shep said, stating the obvious question on everyone's mind.

"It's difficult to say," Zaia said. "Nothing in the ship is responding."

That was not the answer Falkenhorst wanted to hear. "Well you're going to get back in there and make it work! You've been nothing but bad news ever since you and your fleet of girly wannabe soldiers started shooting at us."

"Hey!" Fanboy yelled. "I'll bet this douchebag can fix the ship!"

Walking confidently back towards the others, Fanboy was pulling a small man with curly hair by what appeared to be a very long scarf. The man struggled and pulled at the scarf and kept just enough air flowing into his lungs to survive.

"Guy said he was a Doctor, so he's obviously some kind of egghead. Although his time machine looks like it belongs in some shitty English town." Fanboy said as he picked the man up and tossed him in front of Zaia.

"I don't know who any of you are but I do think i'm owed some sort of apolog....OOF!" The odd looking man was stopped as Zaia kicked him in the groin.

"I'll be the one doing the talking she said," allowing her Zeonic interrogation training to take over. "Let's start by you telling me what exactly that thing is over there..."

"We'll since you're obviously fellow time travellers, you should know then that THAT over there is a TARDIS."

Fanboy immediately began giggling, and in his inebriated state he could not prevent himself from falling to the ground and laughing. "You mean that thing over there is called a TARDASS? That is too damn funny!"

"That is NOT the correct pronunciation, but back to what I was saying, that ship over there is the ONLY time travelling ship that should even be on this world at this time! What is it that you are doing here in that unsophisticated contraption!"

Zaia motioned over to Sheppard, "My rifle please," was all she said.

"Uhhh I hate to tell you this but it was broken in the crash."

Zaia immediately began to tense up, the Martini Henry rifle that she had cared for since her early childhood had been taken from her and it was as close to a personal posession as she had left. Still, she maintained her poise. "Well then, Shep darling, give me your gun."

Shep hesitated, although he desperately wanted to please this woman, he risked giving away his only firearm. Zaia's impatience finally made the decision for him. "NOW!" she demanded. Shep quickly tossed the weapon over to her and without missing a beat she smashed the handle of the gun across their captive's face, shttering the orbital bone in one of his eye sockets. "Do anything, ANYTHING else to piss me off so that I can justify killing you. I've had a very bad day and sometimes we females do fit our unpredictable stereotypes. And i've learned well over a hundred ways to mutilate a man's testicles that keep him from passing out."

The man kept quiet, only nodding his head in acknowledgement.

"Good," Zaia said, feeling a sense of satisfaction. "Now tell me where exactly is it we are, since it's your fault that we're both stuck here."

"You must be Zeonic, those don't exist just yet. Fascinating, very well then. Just call me 'the Doctor', i've been travelling through time for many years and I was on my way back here to Earth because of a terrible happenstance that threatens all of time and space..."

The Doctor went on and explained to Zaia about how a powerful and Mysterious race in the future known as the Daleks had been suddenly conquered by a lesser but crafty race of tiny humanlike men that had taken over the Dalek's bodies and turned them into pilotable craft.

"Gnomes!" Zaia stated in amazement.

"Precisely," said the Doctor. "Would you care for a Jelly Baby?" Zaia, Sheppard, and Falkenhorst looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders before deciding to each take one of the tasty treats.

Completely disarmed by the man's charm and personality, the three began to relax. "Would your friend like one?" The Doctor asked, as if he had completely forgotten the thrashing he had recieved moments before.

"He's had enough for the day." quipped Falkenhorst. "Now what are you going to do about fixing our ship?"

"Well I suppose I could take a look at it, after all compared to my ship it's not nearly as sophisticated."

As the Doctor moved over to examine the crashed time pod, Fanboy looked over at the now abandoned timeship across the field. His idea generating capacity was already incredibly enhanced (in his own opinion) and he was just about to have his most consequential idea yet.

As Shep and Falk watched the Doctor and Zaia carefully as they began to make delicate repairs to the control console, they heard an odd noise. They turned around to see the TARDASS glowing many bright colors before disappearing. When they realized that Fanboy was nowhere to be seen, they looked back at each other with an expression of sheer horror.

"We'll isn't that just fifteen types of shit squeezed through Satan's cock right into our mouths...." Falkenorst exclaimed using an old Benzite curse he had picked up on the fringes of civilized space.

"Think of it this way, we don't have to pay him now!" Shep said, trying to put an optimistic spin on it.

"It's not that," Falk said, "I'm just mad I didn't think of it first."

"Think of what?" Zaia said as she climbed out of of the time pod with the Doctor close behind her, Shep and Falk saw that the Doctor was looking around frantically for the TARDASS.

"Well, you see Fanboy....well....."

Zaia felt a migraine headache coming on as the implications to the timeline were being felt, her only hope was that the man was so high that his actions would be inconsequential.

"That insufferable behemoth took my TARDIS! Why didn't you stop him?" The Doctor screamed, which caused Falkenhorst to draw his gun and shoot the beleaguered Time Lord in the kneecap. The bone and tissue burst messily and Zaia looked down disgustedly as bits of tendon and cartilage sprayed over her.

"Oh that felt goooooood. I take you you managed to fix this piece of shit?" Falk asked Zaia.

Zaia, her sympathies drained after the Doctor's incessant pleas for her to become his new companion, shrugged her shoulders as she brushed the sinew and gore off of her clothing. "The ship is largely intact, and the temporal drive is still functioning, but we have no hyperdrive. Fortunately the Gnomish plan started somewhere here on Earth so we don't have to do any interplanetary travelling."

"Whatever, let's just get the fuck out of here." Shep said as he callously stepped over the bleeding and crying Doctor.

"Wait!" ,cried the Doctor, "what are you going to do with me? You can't just leave me!"

"Hey you're the Time Guy or whatever," Falk said. "Just send your future self here back in time to save you or some shit, and while you're at it LEARN TO DRIVE asshole."

"If that were the case, wouldn't I have already come back to save myself by now? You must help me!"

In an attempt to score additional brownie points with his deference, Shep looked over at Zaia. The Zeonic Commando's patience with men though, was wearing quite thin. "I'd just have ended up shooting him anyway."




And so our heroes, minus their hired muscle, stepped back into the timeship and set back off into Earth's history as the Doctor watched. He had managed to stem the bleeding with his scarf but did not know how long he would last.

"Bugger." He said as he knew that his death was certain, wondering if he would be able to regenerate into his next incarnation. But within minutes of his being left behind, a portal opened up in front of his, rolling through the portal were a trio of cylindrical aliens, armed and armored beyond any other species in the universe, the Doctor knew them as the Daleks. However, they were now far more dangerous. The trio of Former Daleks rolled towards the Doctor and quickly identified him.

"THERE HE IS!"

"IT IS THE DOK-TOR, HE WILL BECOME A MOST EXCELLENT GNO-MEK!"

"IT WILL REQUIRE DNA MANIPU-LA-TION."

Their mechanical voices were much more high pitched than the Doctor was used to, but he was not afraid. Until he realized exactly just how much more dangerous they had become.

"IN-SEM-IN-ATE!" the three yelled in unison as their main weapons all lowered towards the poor Doctor, who was immediately triple-plugged by three extending Gno-mek probes in his two orificies, plus one which forcibly penetrated his navel. The Gnomes of the far future had still not overcome their reproductive problems, but had found a way to alter their own sperm so that it would change the DNA of other species to become Gnomish.

The Doctor wanted desperately to throw up, but the viscous liquid being pumped down his throat was also numbing his gag reflex, forcing the disgusting and briny tasting liquids down his throat and into his stomach, which he felt shrinking along with the rest of his organs.

After twenty minutes or so, a small curly haired gnomes stood up where there had once been a human sized time Lord. He looked up to the sun with his diminuitive eyes for the first time and yelled at the top of his lungs. "HAIL GNOMAGE!." The three Gno-meks cheered around him and re-opened the portal. The small naked Gnome, once the Doctor, immediately smiled with a toothy grin and reported to his new kinsmen.

"I have an urgent message for our Lordship. Dink Dink! There is a threat to our plans that made it back from the 24th century! Dink Dink!"



Aboard the TARDASS, Fanboy discovered perhaps the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. The central console was linked to a large electronic hookah which boasted technology centuries, perhaps millenia, beyond what he was used to. Cases of exotic narcotics and psychotropic drugs were piled neatly in the corners, and seated on a velvet couch in the corner, was an unconscious and attractive woman that Fanboy assumed was a passed out coke whore.

"Sweeeeeeeeeeeeet." He said as he made his way to the console and activated the hookah, loading it with several grams of Romulan Marijuana he had brought with him through the timestream. The entire chemical content of the plant was delivered into his lungs, bloodstream, and brain in microseconds. It was a headrush unlike any Fanboy had ever experienced.

Over in the corner of the couch, an awakening Leela looked over and saw the unknown man, examining him for a few minutes before identifying him.

"It is him! The prophecy was true!"

Fanboy noticed the girl as she awoke, and at a loss for words he could only reply "Do what now?"

Leela stood up off the couch and pulled a small talisman from her pocket and handed it to Fanboy, whose eyes began to glow a bright jade for but a brief second. An inscription on the medallion resembled a pot leaf.

"I have been waiting for you all of my life. The ancient prophecy of the Sevateem will finally come to fruition!"