🚀 go-pugleaf

        The HMS Battleaxe hangs quietly space.  It is about 200m long and 
about 50m wide.   Inside the crew goes on about its business unaware of what is 
about to happen.
        "Chief, would you bring me a glass of sherry?" said Captain FitzGerald 
as he reclined in his favorite chair.
        "Yes sir." replied Chief Petty Officer Colin Musson, as he went to get
the cut glass decanter.
        As the captain and his batman enjoyed their after dinner drinks in the 
captain's conservatory, the other twenty engineers went on about their business 
of sleeping or working and the two medical officers played cards in the 
officer's lounge.  On the bridge the first officer observed the operations of 
the helmsman and also the navigator who was keeping a close eye on the computer 
navigation console.  The tactical officer kept an eye on the threat monitor.  
In all, the 40 members of the Battleaxe were totally unprepared for what 
happened next.
        A freak wormhole opens right in front of the Battleaxe, as it heads 
towards George Station on Pluto.  The ship lurches violently for a minute 
throwing people every which way.  Then the Battleaxe pops out the other side 
and the wormhole closes right behind it, as suddenly as it had appeared.
        Captain FitzGerald ran flat out to the bridge.  "Report Number One!"
        "Sir, we appear to have passed through a wormhole.  We now appear to 
be in a completely different solar system, a binary to boot.  We are, however,
receiving radio signals from a planet which appears to be habitable."
        The captain thought for a moment.  "Set course for the planet, but 
maintain radio silence unless we are directly hailed, or we can enter orbit."
        "Yes sir!"
************************************************************
        One day and 100 million miles later. . .
        "Can you get me on an official frequency to contact ground control, 
Number One?"
        "I think so Captain.  They appear to use a form of English here." said 
Number One, being vaguely surprised at the fact.
        "This is Captain Harrison Michael William Alexander-FitzGerald, VC, 
GCVO, GBE, DSO, commander of Her Majesty's Ship the Battleaxe to Ground Control 
of the planet below, requesting landing clearance, I repeat. . . What the 
Hell's That!" said Captain FitzGerald as he suddenly saw the ship in two-hour 
orbit.
        "I'm sorry sir," said the Tactical officer.  "I thought that that it 
was a small moon."
        Resuming much more shaken, the Captain continued.  "This is Captain 
Harrison Michael William Alexander-FitzGerald, VC, GCVO, GBE, DSO, commander of 
Her Majesty's Ship the Battleaxe to Ground Control of the planet below, 
requesting landing clearance, I repeat This is Captain Harrison Michael William 
Alexander-FitzGerald, VC, GCVO, GBE, DSO, commander of Her Majesty's Ship the 
Battleaxe to Ground Control of the planet below, requesting landing clearance."
        "This is Serindipity Control, Captain.  You are cleared for landing on 
Scalar Field, follow the beacon on frequency. . ."
************************************************************
        One landing later. . .
        "Alright, they seem to be ignoring us," said Captain FitzGerald.  "I 
and Chief Musson will go out and try to find out what's going on in this place. 
 Until then, I want you to stay on the ship and keep it under guard.  Number 
One, break out the weapons.  We'll be back as soon as possible."

        Captain FitzGerald and Chief Musson broke out the 16m launch and set 
off for the city.  After a short while they find themselves hopelessly lost.  
The Captain remarks, "I could really do with finding a Gentleman's club or some 
other sign of civilization."
        "Well, that crashed ship looks to be the center of town.  Let's head 
for there." commented Chief Musson.

        "Haven's Rest," read Captain FitzGerald.  "This looks like as close an 
approxamation of a Gentleman's Club as we could hope to find in this impossible 
place."
************************************************************
        Entering the establishment the pair come upon the guard. . .
        "Please deposit all weapons with me sir.  You will recieve them back 
when you leave," said the droid politely.
        "Well, this must be a civilized club if they don't allow weapons, eh 
Chief?" said Captain FitzGerald as he gave the droid a revolver and a dress 
saber.
        Chief Musson also turned over his weapons:  a laser rifle, 
semi-automatic 9mm pistol and a combat knife, before commenting, "You're 
probably right, sir."

        Any patrons sitting in the Haven's Rest see two men walk in.  The 
apparent leader of the two stands 6'6" and appears to weigh about 200lbs.  His 
hair is steel gray and he has a full beard.  His eyes are a very deep shade of 
blue, but they are also very stern and commanding.  He is wearing what is 
obviously a uniform.  He has a blue jacket and white cap, both with lots of 
gold braid, a sash and three badges, and black trousers.  He also has a 
respectable amount of medals on his chest board.  The other man is about 5'8" 
and 180lbs.,  but built like a football player.  His hair is brown and his 
brown eyes are constantly looking for threats.  He is wearing a similar 
uniform, but with no braid.  He also has a respectable number of medals on his 
chest board.
        They approach the bar.  When they reach it, the one in charge says to 
the bartender, "Hello my good man, I just realized that I have an important 
question for you.  Does this establishment accept the British Pound?"
************************************************************
ADMIN:  These characters are a what if of mine.  I basically took Space 1889 
and said, what if it were 2000.  I kept the overall world history the same, 
with two world wars and the cold war and all that, just with a lot of space 
travel.  Captain FitzGerald is a PC, Chief Musson is a NPC (but keep your hands 
off him, he is very loyal to his Captain and friend), all the crew are NPCs, 
but if you want to do something with them 1)wait till the captain relaxes 
orders and lets them explore and 2)talk to me first.

Any comments?  write <<darkstar@gacvx1.gac.edu>> Internet

Captain Harrison Michael William Alexander-FitzGerald, VC, GCVO, GBE, DSO, 
commander of the HMS Battleaxe.
aka Greg Johnson, a slightly confused student.