EPISODE XXXVII - WEEKEND AT BERNIE'S III: BERNIE'S REVENGE
Reed entered the organized chaos of the bridge, Mr. Proteau on his heels. Mr. Schultz vacated the command chair and began his brief of their current situation.
"We have a visual on a Wyzenhymer Beezle-Class Flagship", he began, "but they refuse to acknowledge our transmissions." He paused for a moment. "Your orders, sir."
Reed looked around at his crew, then back at Mr. Schultz. "We wait", he replied simply, and noting Ensign VanTedly squirming in a chair in the corner, added, "and we wait patiently."
Reed keyed his com-link, "Mr. Proteau...", he said.
"Er...yes, sir.", Proteau replied from behind the Commander.
Reed turned to the security officer. "I appreciate your haste, Mr. Proteau.", he stated, "Dr. Egan is currently being stowed in a baggage compartment on Deck-4. Anda and Dana are with him."
"Yes.", Proteau prompted.
Reed looked at him casually. "Debrief him."
Ensign VanTedly stood quickly, his face flushed with anger. "I can't just stand by and let you take a man's underpants!", he proclaimed dramatically.
Schultz stepped over to the young officer, administered the Huckster Face Grab, and returned to his post.
"Thank you, Mr. Schultz.", Reed said quietly as he leaned back in his chair and began the wait. It didn't prove to be long.
"Commander", Mr. Schultz said calmly, interrupting Reed's quiet revelry, "I'm getting a message from the Wyzenhymers."
"Put it on the monitor.", Reed ordered, sitting up and arranging his stylish Space Fleet uniform.
An image began to form on the large display at the front of the bridge. A robed and hooded humanoid figure came into view, it's visage distorted by the heavy cowl. It sat between two heavily armed Lederhosen,
the deadly effective shock troops of the Wyzenhymer Armada. Gloved fingers strummed rhythmically on the grotesquely ornate throne in which the being sat.
When it became obvious that the Wyzenhymer delegate would not initiate a conversation, Reed stood and spoke. "I am Space Fleet Commander Reed, of the USS Escort.", he stated evenly, "What has brought
you so far from Wyzenhymer space?"
The being stirred in its deep robes and turned to one of its Lederhosen body guards, which obediently leaned in to hear its superiors words. Once completed, the guard faced forward and relayed the commands
of his superior.
"He That Is Not But Is Otherwise demands of you to relinquish your vessel", the bodyguard proclaimed, it's heavily accented, guttural tone barely recognizable, "and depart ye of your scaffolding from
whence it came", it finished grandly.
Reed looked around at his crew's faces, noting that they seemed as confused as he. The being seemed to become agitated within its thick folds, its hand shooting up to grab the bodyguard by its ornamental
nose ring. The Lederhosen guard whimpered as it received more instruction from the dark figure. Once released, the bodyguard turned again toward the screen and reluctantly related its instructions.
"Relinquish your vessel", he began boldly, but hesitated briefly before continuing, "and conduct test portraits of a trampoline."
This time the hand that shot forth was not empty, but held a Shtupenbladen, the ceremonial dagger of Wyzenhymer royalty, which bit deeply into the throat of the Lederhosen bodyguard. The robed figure returned
the blade to the folds of the robe, calmly observing the death throes of the guard as its life seeped out onto the floor. Once free of interruption, the robed figure's gloved hands drifted up, pushing back
the cowl of the heavy cloak, it's gaze falling on Reed, its expression, one of distaste.
"What my inarticulate lackey was trying to explain", a hand motioned to the fallen guard as the words dripped fluently from the Wyzenhymer's tongue, "is that you will relinquish your vessel, and...",
it hesitated.
Reed, unconscious of the creature's words, could not take his eyes from its all too familiar face.
The figure continued, "...and publicly proclaim your allegiance to the Wyzenhymer Empire in return for your lives."
