Friday, May 6, 2011

Commander Kilfry Versus the Day-Fist Ninjas

The heady twang of pneurophonic alarm bells scythed through Kilfry’s cranium as the crew of the Guilty Seamstress sprang to life. Crewman with panicked looks charged past him as they went about manning their posts throughout the Seamstress’ bridge. Warning lights cascaded across the warmer ranges of the colour spectrum as Kilfry blinked placidly from his command chair and squinted through the ensuing chaos around him.
“Whassat?” he mumbled dozily to no one in particular.
“Sir!” barked Communications Officer Poultice whilst frantically pressing buttons at his console, “It’s the cargo bay, sir! It’s been breached!”
Commander Kilfry stared at Poultice thoughtfully as he scratched his shadowed jaw.
“What?” he asked again blankly.
Why did they have to make the Captains chairs on board Tango-Class Interstellar Transport class vessels so damn comfy? Kilfry thought to himself as he yawned languidly. It’s the built in foot-spa that really puts you off-guard…
“The cargo bay, sir!” asserted Officer Poultice as he began fervently winding a nearby crank of undisclosed function. “The prisoners! They’ve… broken loose…”
Kilfry’s brow narrowed.
He gritted his teeth resolutely and took his feet out of the mineral-essence spa treatment custom designed to soften his cuticles.
“The Day-Fist Ninjas…” Kilfry growled heatedly under his breath as he stood up. “Quantum help us all.”
Kilfry yanked his combat boots on hastily and stormed over to the weapons locker as the bridge crew darted and shoved around him. He gleefully eyed the array of high-tech killing machines before him.
“Let me see…” Kilfry mumbled happily to himself. “Pneuronic-Suspension Rifle? Too easy… Distended-Laser Falchion? Ack, it’s purple! Gay… Ahh, here we go…”
Kilfry hoisted the Light-Cutter Assault Arm out of the closet and hooked it over his shoulder. The device’s pneumatic harness hissed and clicked as it locked itself into place.
“Bad. Fucking. Ass,” Kilfry remarked to himself as he squinted down the length of the cybernetic weapon.
The Light-Cutter Assault Arm was essentially a terminally-fast buzz saw attached to a mechanical shield arm, and was originally designed for mining expeditions on stars. The 3-foot wide circular saw in the machine’s mechanical hand sported quasar-lanced blades, specially treated so that they could cut through higher-dimensional constructs such as heat, light, or even laser-blasts. Add to this the fact that the arm provided a rudimentary prismatic-energy shield to the wielder, and the Light-Cutter Assault Arm was a photon-rifle’s worst nightmare.
Kilfry tensed his sweat-caked fingers deep within the mechanical death-apparatus. The buzz-saw flashed and whirred to life.
“Prepare to suck the captain’s log,” he announced proudly to no one in particular.
Communications Officer Poultice eyed Kilfry uncomfortably.
“Go fuck yourself, Poultice,” Kilfry called over his shoulder as he jogged away from the bridge. “You wish you’d thought of that line…”

Kilfry suspected he was in the midship, but it was hard to be sure.  The corridors down here all looked the same, and the holographic deck maps were really hard to read. He hadn’t seen anyone for some time now. Approximately ninety percent of the crew were currently piled into the evac-shuttles, awaiting further instructions due to the ship’s emergency status.
As for the Day-Fist Ninjas…
Kilfry knew all too well that those trained in Day-Fist ninjutsu would only be found if they truly wanted to be. Wandering around aimlessly and hoping to run into them was essentially like looking for a hypodermic in a bio-organic chaff pile.
Day-Fist ninjutsu was a well guarded secret. The seamless blend of their intense physical training, their practiced slight of hand, and their clandestine technological superiority made them feared throughout the galaxy.
It was said that they were faster than light. It was said that they could hide in the bright of day, and that they burnt through their foes with the fury of one-thousand suns. No one had ever caught one of them, until now.
And now, they had three of them.
Three of the universe’s most deadly assassins, stalking the ship that was once their prison, thought Kilfry to himself despondently. Maybe it’s not too late to find an evac-pod…
Without warning, Kilfry’s Light-Cutter Assault Arm whirred to life.
Kilfry gritted his teeth as the automated defence function took hold of the assault arm’s rotary motors, and he felt it lash out sharply to his right. He felt the high-velocity spinning blade connect, and closed his eyes to brace himself for the counter-attack.
There was a thud.
Kilfry opened his eyes and blinked.
He looked around uncertainly.
The Day-Fist Ninja was lying on the floor.
On either side of him.
Kilfry squeamishly stepped out of the blood that was rapidly pooling from the two pieces of ninja.
That was incredible! Kilfry thought to himself excitably. It was as if that guy came out of the nowhere…
The Light-Cutter Assault Arm interjected Kilfry’s train of thought with a punctuated automated seizure.
Kilfry’s eyes widened as he spun around.
With a crack, a second Day-Fist Ninja’s foot punctured the mechanical arm’s carapace before vanishing in a flash of halogenic light. Kilfry’s weapon moaned dejectedly as he staggered backwards from the blow. He nursed the wounded weapon with all the tenderness of an opiate-riddled lover.
“You’ll pay for that, ninja-face…” Kilfry growled as he soothingly patted the robotic arm.
With renewed resolve, Kilfry widened his stance and pivoted his gaze up and down the ship’s corridor.
And then he saw it.
Like a ray of light, the Day-Fist Ninja struck.
Kilfry’s light-sensitive gauntlet responsively snapped out, clipping the second ninja. As his lightning-quick opponent thudded heavily to the metal floor, Kilfry contorted his body to press the attack. Running up the corridor wall, Kilfry back flipped through the star-ship’s low-gravity field and, with the all the poise of a deranged emu, brought the buzz-saw down on the head of the prone criminal.
The whirring blade let out a wet, meaty crunch.
“Two points to Commander Big-Dick,” Kilfry said informatively. “Suck it, flesh-puppet.”
Kilfry felt the assault arm split apart with a tearing metallic roar. He fell backwards as the weapon collapsed away from his shoulder in one smooth, crushing blow from the third and final Day-Ninja. He felt the ligaments and musculature in his biceps snap, and howled out in pain.
“One point to me,” hissed the ninja standing over him.
Kilfry panted as he eyed the high-tech martial artist up close. The ninja was entirely covered in a red-tinted polymer body armour of some sort, though the armour refracted light at its edges as though it possessed some rudimentary personal-cloaking technology.
The ninja stared down at Kilfry through a hooded crack in its visor. Kilfry’s pulse pumped heatedly from his rapidly haemorrhaging arm as a faint red light flashed from deep within the ninja’s armoured suit.
“Any last requests before I kill you?” the ninja snarled as it extracted a long, metallic bladed implement from its belt.
Kilfry’s eyes flashed around nervously.
“Can you tell me…” he panted wearily, “Where the fuck are we on this piece of shit ship?”
The ninja snorted.
“You don’t even know that?” it asked condescendingly. “And you’re in command here? Pah… We’re on Crew Deck 9. The starboard quadrant.”
Kilfry slammed his wrist communicator against the ground in a desperate attempt to activate it.
“Officer Poultice!” he shrieked in an ungainly manner. “Open all airlocks on Crew Deck 9!”
The Day-Fist Ninja stared at him mutedly.
“Th-That…” it stammered “… that would kill you too.”
Kilfry winked happily.
As the vacuum rushed in, both Kilfry and the surviving Day-Fist Ninja were pulled off their feet. Amidst the storm of debris, corpses, and ninjas, Kilfry felt his fragile human bones shattering as they were consistently smashed throughout the tunnelled maze of Crew Deck 9. As unconsciousness took hold, Commander Kilfry consoled himself with another mission well-done…

The stasis pod opened with a hum.
Kilfry yawned happily and looked around, to see the stoic face of Communications Officer Poultice.
“Good job, Poultice!” Kilfry said encouragingly as he grabbed him by the hand. “We did it! We defeated the ninjas! Hope it didn’t take you long to find my body and recover my consciousness-pneumonic.”
“Six months, Commander,” said Poultice dryly. “General Sectus commissioned the Seamstress for the task personally.”
Kilfry nodded happily.
“Excellent!” he lauded happily. “Though I’ve got to confess, clone-bodies always take me a few months to break in. It’s like wearing a codpiece that’s shrunk in the wash… But you seem distracted, Poultice. Is something wrong? Why so glum, my friend?”
Poultice starred at Commander Kilfry in mute disbelief.
“Are… are you serious?” he asked finally. “Aside from wasting six months of my ship’s time, you killed several hundred passengers and crewmen in your stunt back there! Aside from which, you weren’t even supposed to kill the Day-Fist Ninjas! General Sectus wanted them alive, remember?! They were the only Day-Fist Ninjas that have ever been caught!!”
Kilfry nodded and pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“Is General Sex-Less pissed?” he asked tentatively.
Poultice sighed and hung his head.
No…” he conceded angrily. “When I last talked to him, the old fool seemed to have… forgotten the whole thing…”
Kilfry winked and gave Poultice a peace sign.
“V is for ‘victory’,” he informed Poultice happily before plonking back down in the stasis pod. “Now, go fetch me some pornography. I have some breaking in to do.”