EPISODE CCXLIV - THE SORDID HISTORY OF SCOTCH TAPE




Schrader's XP 2000 shot through space followed by the remnants of the King fighter group.  They swept forward, engaging the oncoming Wyzenhymers with their long range photons, discouraging pursuit of the injured, retreating Spam Squadron.

"King-1 to King-2", Schrader called into his mike.  "Keep these scum suckers busy fer a spell."

"Aye-aye, sir", Two responded, taking the lead as the other two vessels formed a wedge behind him.  Hound Dog pressed his accelerator forward, slicing through the inky blackness of space, rapidly consuming the distance between himself and the enemy.  Dipping under Spam Squadron's cloud of straggling wreckage, he noted that two Space Fleet vessels still engaged the Wyzenhymers, one of them, the accident prone half of the Jennings brothers.

"King-1 to Triple", Schrader called into his receiver, "I got yer back."

Triple J, who was desperately trying to elude the ship that had so recently demolished his squadron, had no time to acknowledge the assistance.  He threw his fighter into a hard dive, juking to the right as he fed auxiliary power to his rear shields.  The impact of several energy blasts let him know his maneuver hadn't been successful.

This guy's good, he admitted grudgingly, but is he good enough?  He pulled the enormous wad of bubble gum from his mouth and placed it on a blinking blue button near the navigation system, snapping the chin strap of his helmet with his free hand.  Then, placing both hands on the control stick, he pulled the ship into a mind bending, bone crushing climb, in hopes that his Wyzenhymer pursuer would follow suit.  Which he did...right into Schrader's sights.

"Yee-haw!!", Hound-Dog shouted, loosing a volley of plasma spray across the alien fighter's path.  The Wyzenhymer ship dodged and rolled, but could not avoid the shower of destructive force.  A stream of energy slammed into the sleek hull of the fighter, but its pilot quickly began to regain control.  Just as the ship seemed to right itself, another blast careened off an inverted wing sending it spiraling into the distance.

As Nurse Yahbo entered sickbay, she could make out a hushed conversation in one of the examination rooms.  She crept closer, trying to identify voices.  "...and there are no adverse effects", Egan was saying, "at least none that are documented."

"Cool", an unfamiliar voice remarked in wonder.  "So, all I have to do is sign this release form and..."

Nurse Yahbo swung around the corner.  "Don't sign anything!", she advised Nation forcefully, his pen inches from the paper.

"Doctor", she continued, "you should be ashamed fo yourself."

"For what?", the befuddled physician asked with genuine disinterest.

Yahbo gave him a sour look.  "You know."  She cast a glance at the patient on the table.  "How is he?"

"Who...oh, the soldier guy", Egan recalled.  "He's okay.  Just a couple skull fractures."

"Skull fractures?!?", Nurse Yahbo went to the bed and lifted the patient's eyelids expertly.  "He's has a concussion, doctor", she advised, pulling Nation out of his chair.  "Help me get him to the lab."  She activated the hover-lift and together they pushed Orwig out of the room.