#202: Untold Tales of the Tenth Caphan: Part One – In a Galaxy Far, Far Away  The Hooded Hood's Homepage of DoomCaphan Archive Page Who's Who in the Parodyverse Where's Where in the Parodyverse The tiny one-man K'Lantoth Class Fast Weapons Platform came in latched silently to the hull of the Slave Ship Tears of Desolation. Before it peeled away it seeded half a dozen timed charges along the massive hulk's bulkhead seams, then span away as if it was some of the first of the debris when the pride of the Frammistat Eight slaving fleet exploded. That got the intruder past the outer ring of the planetary defences, low enough to fly right by the secondary shield generators. His source proved accurate, and the counter-codes he used hacked straight through the satellite computer systems, sending the multi-billion credit platforms spinning off station and plummeting onto the cities below. Now the ship was onto the third tier of countermeasures, the robotic drones that rose to challenge an unidentified flying object. Their scanners showed a vessel hardly bigger than a man except for the micromesh gravity wings, its occupant immobilised inside a body-hugging internal cavity. No shielding against impact or energy weapons, just a reliance on speed and manoeuvrability; and enough firepower to take out a thousand square miles of metropolis below. The K'Lantoth vessel twisted away from the drones, peeling off the missiles bolted aside the four gossamer wings. The drones evaded the old Chanta Helix missiles with ease – the technology was half a century out of date – and closed to bracket the ship with their fire. The vessel jinked unexpectedly and sliced a pair of the flying defence saucers from the sky, then spiralled back in an unexpected manoeuvre that briefly confused the drones. The pilot hammered a finger into the tight beam broadcast unit and prayed that the message got through. “What?” came back the croaking voice of a Senior Accounts Administrator in the office of the Slimy Slaver Lovetoad. “Who is this? This is a private line!” “This is Vaahir, of the House of…, well, this is Vaahir,” came back the reply, and the sternness of the voice belied the tenseness behind it. “I'm the man with nine megatons of civic reorganisation surrounding your main admin block.” Somebody in the Lovetoad's office suddenly connected the voice on the commline with the Class Alpha Intruder Alert ringing out across the city. “Trespasser, stand down and surrender,” Vaahir was advised. “The defence drones have you bracketed and will destroy you unless you surrender immediately.” Vaahir smiled sourly and flicked another switch. “Those Chanta Helix missiles your drones ignored earlier… take another look at them.” The primitive outer coatings had burst off the ancient floating missiles, and half a dozen lethal and state of the art transnuclear delivery pods floated in perfect assault formation around main admin. “Ah…” breathed the Senior Accounts Administrator, his reptilian throat suddenly very dry. “Can you guess what happens if the coded signal my vessel's beaming to those weapons suddenly stops?” Vaahir suggested. One man in a tiny jumpcraft had suddenly got his fingers round the collective necks of the most powerful creatures in the richest and most opulent part of Frammistat Eight. “What do you want?” “I want to talk to the Lovetoad.” “We have not yet purchased a new Lovetoad,” the Senior Accounts Administrator said stiffly. “The bidding continues. But I can…” “I'm looking for nine girls you bought and stole from Caph XI,” Vaahir answered abruptly. “For your sake you'd better not have harmed them.” “Caphans,” the Administrator purred. “Sir is discerning. We have a number of choice…” “Nine specific girls, stolen from the Houses of Taaleen and Kelinda, and bought from the House of Portaa and the marketplace at Luutan. Deeela, Sayaana, and Philaana, daughters of Chieftain Ytirar by Iliia the Fair. Noona and Odoona of Portaa, Losiira of the Nine Songs. Miiri, daughter of Prince Kiivas out of Ekooria of Damaar. Luuma Swiftheels. And Kaara, Kaara of Jaaxa, daughter of Toosin by tragic Vaaria in the House of Taaleen before it fell.” There was a pause at the other end of the comm-line; but not a long pause as transnuclear weapons can be most persuasive. “Finding those particular slaves may be… problematical.” “If they are dead then so are you,” Vaahir threatened. “They are not dead,” the Senior Administrator croaked quickly. “No, not dead. But lost. Stolen. Taken from us.” “Do you think me a fool? You Lovetoads guard your slaves well, and few ever escape your loathsome clutches.” “But these girls were taken, claimed as spoils in the Transworlds Challenge by the barbarians that murdered our beloved leader. By humans, the denizens of the planet…” “I know about humans,” Vaahir interrupted. “Everyone knows about them. We saw what they could do when they defeated the Gamesmaster.” He swallowed hard. “And they have these slaves?” “By the Great Toad I swear it. They were claimed as the chattels of the warrior-chieftain called Visionary.” Vaahir closed his eyes for a moment then steeled himself. “Then I shall destroy the humans next.” “Next?” the Senior Administrator repeated worriedly. “Next after what?” “Next after I blow a crater the size of a city where your pleasure palace is,” the intruder told him. “But since you've been so co-operative I'll set it on a one-hour time delay to allow you to evacuate. You Lovetoads can all die in ashes for me, but your slaves don't deserve death.” “But the administration block and pleasure gardens are worth…” “Nothing,” Vaahir spat. “They're worth nothing to me.” “If you do this, we shall call upon your government to give us your head.” “I don't care,” the young man declared as he spiralled his tiny craft out and away past defences that dare not challenge him. “I really don't like people stealing my property.” Vaahir sat with his head in his hands and moaned. “Zaahir's Brood, how am I going to do this?” “Do what,” his companion asked calmly, placing a hand on the psychoreactive surface of the stolen Z'Nox Stealth Cruiser and commanding it to set course for Mutter's Spiral and the Terran system. “Defeat the Lair Legion,” the young Caphan sighed. “The very warriors who won the Transworlds Challenge.” “Technically they didn't win it,” the man in black answered. “In fact that was the whole point of the event.” “They defeated an Oldster of the Universe, or something that had killed an Oldster, Petar,” Vaahir pointed out. “And the Shee-Yar Imperium Guard, and the Super-Skunk, and the Skree Accosters, and everything else they came up against. And before that they stopped Lord Resolution. They've stood off against Galactivac, for Zaahir's sake!” Petar Tyolanh, the man in black, seemed unimpressed. “I warned you when I agreed to aid you in your quest that your possession might not be on the Slavers' world any more. You told me that you would not be deterred by any obstacle.” The young Caphan pushed back his unruly raven hair and stood up. “I've done everything you advised, haven't I?” he defended himself. “When I stole this Z'Nox vessel, when I acquired the transatomic ordinance from the Skree, even attacking Frammistat Eight single-handed. But the Lair Legion…” “Do you want your property or don't you?” Vaahir instinctively reached for the neural rapier at his hip. “I do,” he whispered. “At any cost.” Petar Tyolanh smiled. "Done," he agreed. Coming Next (subject to some encouragement in the form of reader feedback): Vaahir goes into action on Earth and liberates his first slave girl. Unfortunately it’s not a Caphan. Oh yes, and a death-challenge for Visionary. Watch for Part Two: It’s Not Easy Being Green Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2005 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2005 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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| #202: Untold Tales of the Tenth Caphan: Part Two – It’s Not Easy Being Green The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Caphan Archive Page Who's Who in the Parodyverse Where's Where in the Parodyverse  “It wasn't a firebomb,” Kerry objected as she stood in Visionary's Paradopolis University office (or broom cupboard as the janitorial staff referred to it). “It was an experiment in creative performing pyrotechnic arts.” “It wrecked Lab Nine and they're still trying to pry Dr Wzjlowski out of the plasterwork,” Hallie pointed out. “That's because the performance wasn't ready yet,” the young probability arsonist defended herself. “A few more rehearsals and it'll be…” “Kerry, you nearly blew up the campus. Did that Badripoor thing teach you nothing?” “It taught me that shaped charges are better and I really need to keep control over what's exploding where. I mean Dr Wzjlowski wasn't really hurt was he, just a bit singed. And that boy that pinched me was pretty much unscathed even though all his clothes burned off.” Kerry Shepherdson smirked to herself. “I am getting so much better.” “I don't think Visionary's going to see it like that. He and the Fire Marshal are talking to the Dean right now,” Hallie warned. The conversation was interrupted as the door of the tiny office was kicked open. A handsome young man in strange-looking black leathers stood there, rapier in hand. And he had green skin. “Your evil twin?” Kerry speculated to the chartreuse-hued Hallie. “The Green Musketeer?” Once again, human Hallie bemoaned the loss of onboard scanning and diagnostic capacity. She couldn't even interface with the online membership list of the Lou Ferrigno fan club. “Where is Visionary?” demanded the stranger. “Are you his chattels?” “Chattels better be a posh foreign work for incredibly hot student,” Kerry warned Vaahir. Then the Caphan noticed Hallie's complexion. “You're from Caph too?” he frowned. “How did you get here? Speak, wench! Of whose house are you birthed, and of what rank?” “You're a Caphan?” Hallie realised. “A slave-master!” “Really,” scowled Kerry, reaching for a cigarette lighter. But Vaahir was too fast for her. Reaching out he snapped a silver bracelet around her wrist: a Naicluv biogenic metapower suppressor. Kerry flared the lighter in his face anyway, then kicked him in the crotch. “Run, Hallie!” the girl shouted. “Call Gaz and Hammy. Tell them we've got alien invaders again.” Vaahir blinked his tears away and hurled a dagger into the former AI's back. Hallie crumpled to the floor. Kerry screamed. The Caphan slid another neural blade through her calf, paralysing her harmlessly as he had her companion. He dragged himself to his feet painfully. “They breed them wild on this planet,” he said admiringly. Kerry and Hallie were both conscious but had no control over their nervous systems. Vaahir dragged Kerry off the floor and flung her over his shoulder. “Tell your master I have claimed this young slave of his as my own,” he instructed Hallie. “Tell him if he wants to win her back I shall meet him in single combat to the death. When I have slain him I vow by Zaahir's Blood that you will be my bondslave too, maid of Caphan, and your long sorrows shall be over.” He dropped a communicator pin onto the helpless Hallie. “Tell Visionary to make his peace with his gods, because I shall destroy him.” And he stalked away with Kerry slung across his shoulder. “Calm down,” Hatman suggested to the distraught Visionary. “Don’t make me send Nats for the tranq gun.” “Caphan slavers capture Kerry and assault Hallie and you expect me to calm down?” the agitated possibly-fake man demanded. “This isn’t a calming down situation. This is an assemble-the-entire-Lair Legion-and-kick-some-ass situation. Why hasn’t Lisa summonsed Kerry back yet? Why isn’t Al B. opening the dimensional gate so we can go and conquer Caph?” “Lisa tried to summons Kerry. She’s shielded,” Nats answered. “Okay, first thing,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! advised Vizh, “and bear in mind that this is me saying this, Vizh: Chill. We absolutely do not know that Caphans really had anything to do with this. Hallie said the guy had green skin and acted like a Caphan slavelord. But that could have been some kind of ruse to set us on the wrong trail, maybe to make us go fight the Caphans. It could have been a Skunk, or a Space Fandom, or a Hero Feeder, or…” “Young Dream’s right, Visionary,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton advised. “Much as I want to see young Kerry safe and sound - in some kind of fireproofed environment for preference – there’s no point going off half-cocked.” “Fleabot, have you tracked that teleport beam?” Visionary called to his robotic flea companion. “I’m co-ordinating with miss Framlicker at EEE right now,” the micro-robot answered. “But it’s looking like the transmission was shielded somehow.” “Yo is to be thinking that if uncute Caphan slaver is to be trying to get back cute Deela, Sayaana, Philaana, Noona of Caph, Miiri of Earth, Odoona, Losiira, Luuma, and Kaara we are to be needing to be sending of guard to be making sure they are of safety.” “I’ll go,” De Brown Streak offered quickly. “No, really, I want to help.” “That is not necessary,” the Manga Shoggoth gurgled, placing a not-as-reassuring-as-it-was-intended-to-be pseudopod on the speedster’s shoulder. “The Caphan entities are safely ensconced in Lemuria, an island I salvaged out of mundane mortal timespace as a refuge for those who have suffered. It is concealed amidst non-Euclidean angles in places that cannot exist in a sane and logical universe.” “That’s a tremendous comfort,” Nats swallowed. “You’re claiming the Parodyverse is a sane and logical universe?” Hatman checked. “Anyway, the point is that we need more information before we do anything rash. We’ve contacted Amazing Guy and asked him to check for Caphan ships using his cosmic awareness, so when we know…” “Then we do something rash,” grinned Trickshot. “And meanwhile we let this slaver torture Kerry or whatever he wants?” Visionary objected. “Look at what he did to Hallie!” “Actually that was just a neural disruptor blade,” Princess Uhunalura of the Abhumans assured him. “It interfered with her nervous system for a while to inhibit conscious muscle action, but she’ll be fine in a few hours. She’s already swearing about the limitations of a human body again.” “What about that comm-link he left?” Vizh demanded. “Can’t we contact him and see what his demands are. Apart from the mortal combat thing, I mean. And by the way am I allowed a substitute, because if so I’m calling Donar.” “Al B.’s taking it apart right now,” Sir Mumphrey assured. “Says it looks to be of S’Zox origin.” “The race of alien assassins?” Nats winced. “Oh good. Could the day get any worse?” Fleabot hopped over the comms panel. “I’m getting an incoming transmission from AG now,” he reported. “Hmm. Seems like he’s found quite a few Caphan ships, actually.” “Where?” demanded Hatman briskly. “Heading towards Earth from Caph. About two thousand of them. Or double that if you count the mercenary vessels from other planets that are with them.” Mumphrey looked up sharply. “An invasion fleet?” “Could be,” the robotic flea conceded. “They’re coming fast.” “Then we have preparations to make,” Sir Mumphrey scowled. “Mr Boaz, contact SPUD. Yo, activate the Outer Space Incursion Protocols please.” He glanced at Visionary. “Try not to worry, old chap. I know it’s hard, but we’re getting the situation under control, what?” Then the Operations Room door slammed open and Dancer hurtled into the room. “Who took Kerry?” she demanded in a half-shout “And what for? And who do I break?”. And the situation spiralled out of control again. Next Time: Kerry comments somewhat on her captivity, Vaahir challenges the Lair Legion, and Petar offers a few hints. That’ll be in Part Three: What We've Got Here is a Failure to Communicate Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2005 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2005 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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#202: Untold Tales of the Tenth Caphan: Part Three – What We’ve Got Here Is a Failure to Communicate The Hooded Hood's Homepage of DoomCaphan Archive Page Who's Who in the Parodyverse Where's Where in the Parodyverse “So on your planet, is there like some species that’s extinct now, that just got wiped out?” “There’s the Snaargh, I suppose, a giant lizard that got hunted to death thousands of years ago for its aphrodisiac genitals.” “Right. Well that’s how dead you are, okay? As dead as a Snaargh.” Kerry Shepherdson nodded to agree with herself. “That dead.” Vaahir of Caph wasn’t sure exactly how to deal with his young captive. She appeared to have had no submissiveness training at all. “I am a mighty warrior,” he pointed out. “Unsurpassed in the use of the ceremonial Plag-Gar Sword and fully recovered from any injuries I may have had.” “You have a far away place on your planet as well?” Kerry demanded. “Because that’s how far Vizh is going to kick your ass if you fight him.” “He will not kick my… do what you said,” Vaahir argued. “I am…” “Yeah yeah. You’re the Snaargh’s knees, I’m sure, and you’ve got all that heavy leather look going for you that’d make you real popular at a trans-sexual bondage club. But this is Visionary we’re talking about.” She paused and delved into her misspent movie-watching youth. “He doesn’t have a name so that death can’t find him,” she added. “Isn’t his name Visionary?” puzzled the Caphan. “Er, well yes. But you do know about all his super-powers, right? I mean the, um, the exploding vision, and the nuclear breath, and the, the ability to wrestle wild crullers with a mighty leap?” “Super-powers aren’t allowed in the ceremonial challenge. We must fight by skill alone.” “Oh crap. I mean, wow, are you in big trouble, pervo Caphan kidnapping guy. Really, what is wrong with you?” Vaahir looked taken aback. “Wrong? I saved you from your cruel master! You’re my property now. You’re safe!” “Buster, I hate to burst your geek bubble but here on planet not-insane we don’t have slavery. I’m not a slave, and I’m not your property, and power dampener or not if you lay one finger on me you’ll be needing one hell of a lot of Snaargh goolies before you stand up again. And then my big sister will come along and she’ll get nasty.” Vaahir took a step back from the seething probability arsonist. “You have naught to fear,” he tried to reassure her. “I am not one of those who would insist on carnal play with an unwilling chattel. Your virtue is safe with me.” “You bet it is, greenie. So why don’t you go get on with your lame-o plan so the Lair Legion can stomp you flat and I can get back to unpacking my new chemistry set?” The Caphan looked uncertainly at his captive. “You are most unrespectful,” he noted. “What man would ever wish to possess one who is so untutored in the ways of womanhood?” “Don’t get me on that subject,” Kerry Shepherdson warned. “Just go make an ass of yourself and let’s get on with the rescue, okay?” “I’m here to save the poor women of Caph whom your master has claimed for his vile torment.” “You and everybody else,” sighed Kerry. She stared down at her t-shirt front. “C’mon, guys. Grow!” “This is Vaahir of Caph, calling the vile Visionary, oppressor of my countrywomen and tyrant of infamy!” the young Caphan called into his communicator. Down on the planet below the other half of the comm-unit sat in the Lair Mansion Operations Room. “Hi. This is Fleabot here, screening calls for the tyrant of infamy while he’s in the bathroom. Can I take a message?” Another voice came over the link. “Get out of the way, you silly robot. Let me talk to the sleazy cowardly pointless little worm. Hello? Big Caphan bully? This is Hallie, the person you stabbed in the back with a neural dagger.” “I am Vaahir of… I am Vaahir, and you will speak to me with due respect.” “This is due respect, buster. Where do you get off attacking me and marching off with Kerry like some kind of…” “Er, perhaps I’d better handle this, Hallie?” Hatman voice chimed in. “If you don’t mind.” “Yes, be letting of Hatty talk to uncute slave-catching Caphan,” Yo suggested. “Thanks, Yo. Okay Vaahir, this is Hatman for the Lair Legion. What do you want?” “Be sure to be telling of uncute-Vaahir that he is to be being very naughty, and is to be being ashamed of himself,” Yo added in the background. “Thanks, Yo. I’ll mention that in a moment.” “And that we’re gonna kick his scuzzy butt as soon as we get out hands on him,” Trickshot contributed. “If I could please conduct the hostage negotiation without the commentary?” Hatman asked desperately. “That’s right,” agreed CrazySugarFreakBoy! “Let the poor guy talk to the sad demented loser loon we’re gonna cream when we get out hands on him, okay?” “Thank you,” sighed Hatty. “So Vaahir…” “My terms are simple,” the Caphan said grimly. “I am challenging Visionary for ownership of the Caphan slaves he claimed on the Transworlds Challenge. I claim the Right of Ownership by Mortal Combat, the Balok Gorn. He will meet me at the co-ordinates I am transmitting, alone and unarmed, in one of your solar cycles. If you attempt treachery I will detonate the twelve transnuclear weapons I have landed on your planet. When Visionary is dead you will liberate the Caphans to me.” “Actually, Visionary doesn’t actually own the…” Hatman began. “That is all,” Vaahir snapped, and severed the connections. “Well?” demanded Sir Mumphrey. “Got it!” Hallie answered with satisfaction. “We managed to lock onto his signal and get some broadcast co-ordinates. We know where the little worm is now!” “Then let’s go nail him,” Trickshot called. “Then we send his invasion fleet packing and get some lunch. I’m thinking tacos.” “Not yet,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton intervened. “First we need to locate these bombs he mentioned, and make sure we’re safe from this invasion fleet. Then the safest time to retrieve Ms Shepherdson will be while this Vaahir chappie’s busy with this Balek Gorn thing. We can slip in a rescue team while the villain’s preoccupied fighting Visionary. “Good plan,” agreed Hatman. “Let’s get to it.” “Wait!” protested Visionary. “What?” “What are you looking at?” Kerry demanded of Petar Tyolanh as she caught the man in black staring at her. “What are you anyway, the creepy butler?” “I’m the one who’s going to kill you,” Vaahir’s advisor told Kerry, when he was sure the young Caphan was out of earshot. “I’m the one who’ll strap you down and make you bleed and cut out your heart while you’re still alive and screaming, and I’ll enjoy every moment of it.” Suddenly the pale handsome face was a mass of crawling maggots, and then it flicked back to its urbane sardonic normalcy. “That’s who I am,” answered Petar Tyolanh. Coming Next: Nothing on Visionary’s death-match. No news on the LL vs the Caphan invasion fleet. Zip on Kerry. Not even any Caphan slave girls yet. So what does that leave? The plot thickens – and darkens – in Untold Tales of the Tenth Caphan #203: Part Four – What Man Was Not Meant To Know Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2005 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2005 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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