Star Trek - Series Fan Fiction / Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Gung-Ho Gun Hos ❯ 5: The Federation Civil Whore ( Chapter 6 )

GUNG-HO GUN HOS 5: THE FEDERATION CIVIL WHORE-- I MEAN WAR

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sun Tzu said that," Stilgar corrected.

"What?"

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

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

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

"I had a--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Confucius!" Adm Brin interrupted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?!"

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

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

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

>>

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

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes." 'He does not need to know the Chinese People's Liberation Army's successor rules the Gonghe Republic,' a Federation ally.

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

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

"That's it! General Martok!"

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck 'em!"

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

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

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

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

"CSS Visionrazor to Qo'noS One! You're at a tactical disadvantage! Your ships are technologically inferior to mine! Surrender and deliver the traitor Spock to our custody, or I'll cut you a new asshole!" Col Rodgers fired three torpedoes in front of Qo'noS One to intimidate the Klingons, but the command ship's Hedgehog-19 antitorpedo systems intercepted the incoming torpedoes. "No fair!"

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

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

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

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

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

>>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dollar Man?"

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

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

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

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

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

>

Three hours later...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beam! "Die already!" Beam!

"Stop shooting me!" Slash!

"Ahhhh!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who?"

"Colonel Rodgers!"

"To where?"

"Into space!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>

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

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

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

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

"The traitors put a mine here?"

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

"No fair!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sir, a flanking maneuver is..."

>

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

>

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

>

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

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

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

>>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eek!"

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

The Redshirt commander saluted. "Yes, Sir!"

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

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

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

"Fuck me," Gen Davies hissed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

"Gasp!" The second technician reached for his phaser, but he was too slow-- the assassin's sound-suppressed MP50 submachine gun fired a burst of 12.7 x 32.6 mm rounds into his head before he turned around.

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No fair!"

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

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

>

"Yeeha!" Starbuck's F-7S Viper led an alpha strike against the rebuilt Darkstar, the fighters' Phaser Enhancement, Nuclear Isotope Surge (PENIS) emitters and belly-mounted Warthog torpedo volley systems hammering the tactical cruiser.

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

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

"Shit! Launch fighters!"

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

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

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

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

"The Peregrine class courier ships?"

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

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

"Shut up and launch them!"

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>>

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

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

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

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

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

"Say again?"

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

>>

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

"3,209,021 MP45s, 4,290,017 GLOCK 45s, and 2,056,108 GLOCK 50s left to sell," Lieutenant Junior Grade Jezebel answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Onscreen."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

>

An explosion filled the corridor with smoke. 'What kept them?' Jezebel and the women warriors aimed L7A2 machine guns, L1A1 rifles, and MP45s at waist level. "Hold... hold..." Ens Talon stepped out of the smoke, leading new humans towards the machine gun nest. "Fire!"

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

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

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

Australian men were pissed at this insult to their masculinity, while the women were pissed at this threat. "Let's get 'em!" They leaned into the corridor to fire 12.7 x 32.6 mm (.50 AE) and 11.43 x 23 mm (.45 ACP) rounds at the new humans.

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

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

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

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

"Jezebel!"

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

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

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

Zaia fired a 7.62 x 25 mm round at Ens Talon's head, executing him. "Thank Cybele you're alive!" She holstered her C96A9 and embraced her lover.

"What happened out there?" Jezebel asked.

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

"Is it...?"

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

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

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

<>

Not the end.

Sidewinder wrote this 'Unnamed Porno Fanfic' fanfic in 2006 (revised in 2009), based on Darth Fanboy, Falkenhorst, and MKSheppard's story-- itself based on George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry's. The new A-Team is based on characters Glen A. Larson, Frank Lupo, and Stephen J. Cannell created.

Sidewinder also changed two names in 2008 and 2009. Chu'wI'Quch was originally named Trigga'Happi. DIKE originally stood for "Delta radiation, Instantly Killing Emission." The new names sound better, right?

7.63 x 25 mm (7.63 mm Mauser) and the "hotter" 7.62 x 25 mm (7.62 mm Tokarev) rounds are interchangeable for the Mauser C96A9, which was designed for the Chinese People's Liberation Army-- doing so for the original C96 will make the gun explode.

WANK stands for "Warrior Armament, Naval Kind" for those who didn't read the previous stories. CSS stands for Communist Starship.

<>

"What do you think?" Sidewinder asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Argh! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna pump your ass full of semen!" Chu'wI'Quch roared.

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

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

"Ahhhh!"

>

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