The Alienbutt Saga, Book 1. War of the Coffee Bean. Part 41.

Alienbutt watched as one of the three ships continued towards him, the others coming to a stop, apparently happy to wait. The ships were about the same size as an Ick dreadnought but more sleek and looking like they were built for speed, but Alienbutt had no doubt that they would also pack a punch. He didn’t recognise the ships and they carried no markings. Kirk came and stood next to the pilot’s chair cocking his head to one side in the gesture he always made when he was considering something.
“It’s almost time for Star Trek. Do you think they would like to watch it with us?”
Alienbutt had already learnt that the robot didn’t understand sarcasm so he just ignored him as the robot continued to speak.
The radio came back to life, the voice was female but far from being soft and warm managed to convey that a world of pain would be delivered to anyone who didn’t do exactly what she said.
“Commander Alienbutt, if you drop your shields and prepare to be beamed aboard our vessel, we can deliver our message to you face to face.”
Alienbutt grabbed a bottle of whiskey and dropped the shields. After a few moments he felt the strange sensation that heralded the start of the teleport and then he was in a strange room. He quickly took a drink of the whiskey. It served to settle his stomach and also gave out a “I don’t give a damn how big your ship is,” message. The room was quite dark with most detail lost in the shadows but he knew at least two other people were in there with him.
“You know, this place could look nice, but you need a few more lights to create a friendlier mood, I know a really good interior designer,” he said finally, as the silence dragged on.
“We were told you like to make infantile remarks, Commander Alienbutt,” said the female voice from the radio. The voice was even more menacing in the flesh.
“It’s just Alienbutt, I don’t go into all that formal how big is your title. Now I’m sure you didn’t plan all this just to tell me I’m childish.” Alienbutt didn’t like the sound of her voice. For some reason he felt the malice in her voice was reserved just for him; he took another longer drink from his whiskey bottle.

“You search for the dead Ick leader. We have a message you need to give him,” said a second female voice, this one was more friendly sounding.
Alienbutt tried to make out details from the shadows but could only just make out two darkened forms. “How do I give a message to a dead man? I’m afraid I’m no psychic,” asked Alienbutt, unnerved by how much these people seemed to know about what he was doing.
“How about I just shoot you and we not bother with this silliness?” said the first voice, and he could tell she really did want to do that.
“Be nice to our guest,” admonished the second person, but still in that friendly voice. “Tell Wickede that the cure lies in what was removed. He has to put it back.”
“Well, that’s cryptic. Did you write the Book of Ick by any chance, as that’s full of that sort of nonsense too?” Alienbutt hated puzzles and word play. Why couldn’t people just say what they meant?
“I’m glad we never took a contract on you, Alienbutt,” said the second person, chuckling. “Also tell him that the death mark has been removed from his head. Our previous employer has broken the contract and seeks to discover things that are none of his business.”
“So you’re the Galactica then. Why don’t you do the universe a favour and kill your former employer?” asked Alienbutt, becoming even more uncomfortable at being in the same room as the legendary assassins.
Alienbutt started to feel the disorientation of the teleport working and then was back aboard his own ship.
“Did you invite them to watch a film with us?” asked Kirk as Alienbutt sat back down in his pilot’s chair.
“They don’t like Star Trek I’m afraid, it’s too scary for them. Look, even the thought of watching it has made them run off.”
The ships had already sped off and disappeared as they jumped to light speed. Alienbutt gave a huge sigh of relief as the flash that heralded their departure faded away. Again Kirk missed the sarcasm completely and wandered off to the back of the ship muttering about stupid people.

Alienbutt arrived at the co-ordinates set by Snoodgrass and the Ick scientists two days after his meeting with the Galactica ships. Taking up position beside the communication satellite, he began going over his check list and ensuring that everything was ready. Poking his head into the drive room he saw that the F.T.L. drive was still in the same position as when he had been shown it. With a nod to Kirk, who was following him with the check list of tasks they had to do, he moved onto the next item on the list. He wouldn’t have bothered with the list but Kirk had been insistent that it be done, and while he followed Alienbutt around with the clipboard, he had shut up about the history of the Klingon Empire and their great operas. The final item on the list was to switch on the computer that would control the drive and set in the co-ordinates that Wickede’s message had been sent from. Finally ready, Alienbutt buckled himself into the pilot’s chair and opened a bottle of whiskey. Then he sat taking sips, while staring at the large red button now flashing on his flight control panel. He was aware of Kirk talking to him but he had developed the equivalent of a white noise filter, listening on a subconscious level, so able to answer questions if needed while thinking of other things. He would have been surprised to realise that this was an ability used by married men the universe over for thousands of years, an intergalactic survival trait that held true to every species. Finally he reached a decision and pressed the button. For a moment nothing happened, then he was pushed back in his chair as the ship shot forward and disappeared.

To be continued.

Thanks for reading, all images are mine.