...there is a strange "urp" in the ship's systems. The lights go off, the artificial gravity quits, the engines seem to stutter a bit, and the speakers render a burst of static.

After less than a second, though, everything is back to normal.

"Tempus fungus."

"Nullo modo!"

Everything turned off. I hate when that happens.

cleans drink off self

Well, that was strange.

Who or what caused the "urp" in the ships systems?

Will the party ever kick into full gear?

Will the party ever end?

Will past unfinished plotlines ever be wrapped up?

Why is is the sky blue?

Why am I asking you?

Coo coo kachoo!

And what about.... Naomi?

"Well, that was weird," Delgado states the obvious, slurring evvvvvvvvvvvver so slightly. "Maybe we're not supposed to have this party, after all." He finds Milkshake.

"Any word from... from... whomever's in charge of Engineering now?"

"Yeah, that's a little odd," Rikard says to the nearest person, who just happens to be Jackson, "I really hope we're not carrying a computer virus or something." He pauses for a moment and checks the time.
"This party seems to be quieter than they usually are. And it's getting late. Maybe we should wrap it up."

Quincy is hard at work on something in his lab, when suddenly he receives a message over his comm-badge.

=/\=Sorry to interrupt you, Captain Rocket, but there's a message for you on a secure channel. He said for me to mention the `lemon tree'....=/\=

Quincy looks surprised.

"Put it through immediately!"

=/\=As you wish.=/\=

Quincy walks over to a small viewscreen. Suddenly, a man who has been seen a couple times before *, with brown hair and dressed in gray and navy, appears on the viewscreen.

Quincy: "Long time, no see!"

Several minutes later....

The door to Zen Forward opens, and Quincy and the man from the viewscreen walk in. They start doing some cheesy posing, while reciting the following...

Quincy: "To protect the universe from evil's infestation!"

Other guy: "To unite all heroes in this designation!"

Quincy: "To denounce the evils of Coors and Bud!"

Other guy: "To find a pristine copy of the movie Hud!"

Quincy: "Quincy!"

Other guy: "Randall!"

Quincy: "Brothers Rocket, power up at the speed of light!"

Randall: "Don't make us get medieval on ya'll! Alright?!"

Josh, I hope so to. Let's hope that Taconator or somebody like that isn't trying to be naughty and evil again.
Just then, the Rockets make their appearence. Jackson leads the applause.
Quite an entrance, gentlemen. What brings the two of you here?
Meanwhile, in the background, a bunch of really bad non-Furby singers tromp up to the stage and begin to sing "The Best of William Shatner."

Milkshake is speaking into his communicator, then breaks the connection and turns to Delgado.

Engineering is saying they haven't found the cause of the fluctuations, but since our gravity was affected, it's not a minor issue. Jackson, could you head on down and see if you can sort out the problem?

Quincy! Welcome back.

(overhearing the chatter perpetrated by RR's entrance)

Qunicy? I thought he was dead.

(sees RR)

Oh, right. Him.

(realises there's two of them)

Have I been drinking too much? Or is it just some weird side-effect of being turned back into a human from a goat?

I need to get my eyes checked.

Four Rocket Rangers! And two of them have even worse dress sense than the other two!

Quincy overhears both Insane and Enesku, and lets out a chuckle before turning toward Jackson.

Quincy: "Jackson Dupree, aka Tacoman, I'd like to introduce you to my brother, Randall Elwood Rocket, aka The Spork Knight!"

Randall: "Pleased to meet you."

Quincy: "Randall was passing by on his way to make a....message delivery...and decided to drop in for a while."

Jackson: It's a pleasure. So if you're Elwood, would you, Quincy, then be Jake? And if so, can the two of you sing?
Butrfli: I can do backup if they can!
Alex: So can I. In fact, I can play an instrument or two.

"Re vera, potas bene."

"Nescio quid dicas!"

alt-Furby points at the Rocket brothers.

"Ubi possum potiri petasi similis isti?"

"Tiro in exercitu stellarum..."

They laugh and everybody around them feels uneasy.

Quincy and Randall both direct a very mean glance at the Furbies, which send shivers down their spines...or whatever...before turning back toward Jackson.

Randall: "Heh. Good one."

Quincy: "Actually, our father was named Jake. Jake Elmer Rocket." (pauses) "And no, he wasn't named after Jake Blues or Elmer Fudd."

Randall: "Our parents were both big fans of 20th century and early 21st century television and music. I'm named after one of Hank Williams Jr's nicknames...Rockin' Randall....and Elwood Blues."

Quincy: "And I'm named after a tv show about a medical examiner and a third generation NASCAR driver who should have gone into another line of work. Namely Kyle Petty."

Randall: "Unfortunately, the naming thing runs in the family. One of our aunts...on mom's side of the family...named our cousin Molly Olive."

Quincy: "After one of the main characters from the radio show Fibber McGee & Molly...."

Randall: "...and Popeye's girlfriend, Olive Oyl."

Quincy (smiling): "Fortunately, the rest of our relatives are sane!"

Delgado nods back at Milkshake.

"Hopefully it won't happen again."

He surveys the arrivals of the brothers Rocket.

"Hey, it's about time this party got started. Now, if we could only gain control of the music somehow..."

On cue, the Horrible Non-Furby Singers complete their set and leave, and a new group takes the stage.

Morgan, an instrument of ancient design in his hands, speaks over his virtual microphone.

"Evening, everyone. We're the band Turn. Milir Naleau, our lead singer, Sam Carza on percussion, Jainy Brown on synthcounter, Zs Zha on keys, and yours truly on electric guitar. We're going to play you tonight music that I bet most of you have never heard, some 20th century stuff, 21st and a bit of early 22nd. We hope you enjoy it. Now this first one is an oldie....well, it's an oldie where I come from."

And they play.

(Insane approaches Commander Milkshake)

Enjoying the party, eh, Steve?

(Milkshake expresses that he is, but points out that he's a little concerned about the short power shutdown and Jackson's unwillingness to check it out)

Oh, I'll head down to engineering and find out. Hold my drink for me.

takes it

"...'cause I'm as freeeeeee as a biiiird nowwwwwwwww... and this birrrrrrd you cannot chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaange!"

Sorry.. I was just enjoying the party and talking to the Rockets. I'll make my way down.
Jackson and Insane leave the party and make their way to engineering. Jackson approaches the nearest technician and says
We just a power fluxation just now. What's going on down here?

Did someone call? I, The One and Only Never-to-Be-Forgotten Fluxion, am here to save the day!

types
Thursday. Sunny and unseasonably cool with a 30% chance of rain.
Control-S.
"Day has been saved."

"We don't really know, sir," says a random engineer. It's like all the energy the ship produces got drained off somehow. That's why things like the gravity were affected. As to what casued the drain? We have no idea."

Jackson is about to reply, when the "urp" repeats itself.

Itself.

Perhaps someone or something is trying to drain the ship's power... and keeps on not managing it. Maybe the third time will prove lucky, for them, and the power will shut down indefinitely.

Several female blueshirts are arguing why the Furbys speak in an ancient language these days. Finally they come to the conclusion that the horrible creatures are probably trying the "Latin Lover" approach and decide to keep a very low profile from now on.

After Keiran's group finishes performing, Quincy and Randall hit the stage, and are joined by Ensign Snewtipantz. Quincy pulls out his platinum coated titanium alloy spoons, Randall grabs a harmonica, and Snewtipantz picks up an accordion.

Quincy: "Ladies and gentlemen....get ready to BOOGIE!"

They play a really wicked version of `Stayin' Alive' (with Quincy singing lead), followed by `Funkytown' (with Randall playing drums instead of the harmonica and singing lead), then `Play That Funky Music' (Quincy singing lead again)

Quincy: "And now....for the finale...."

They play the Village People classic, `Macho Man'. With Ensign Snewtipantz singing lead this time.

Hey guys, I can play water filled glasses, and Butrfli can play the kazoo if you need extra people!

Rikard leans against the bar, draining drink after drink. Things are starting to get a bit fuzzy and wobbly.

"Remember last time this happened?"
Rikard sighs. "Not now, Bill. I'm trying to relax. Go away," he says as he lifts up the glass he's holding to finish it off. As he's doing it, the doors open and in walks an individual that nearly makes Rikard spit out his drink.

"12 of 10! Hey, how're you doing? It's not too often that we see you at," he gestures at the room with a new glass in his hand, "you know, at one of these things. These, uh, gathering... things."
The former X-CwX drone seems to smile slightly before answering.
"Yes, Commander, it seems that in spite of all of my time on this ship and with this organization, there are still many individuals with whom I am not well acquainted. I have decided that it would be desirable to change that."
"John."
"Excuse me?" she asks, confused by his response.
"We're off duty, you don't have to use my rank. You can just call me John. Or Rikard. Or Josh. Or whatever you'd like really. Anyway, it's good that you're here. Relax. Enjoy it. Listen to the music. I know they're playing some old old old old old old oldies tonight. Oh, and have a drink. I'll get Peaceflower. Hey Peace!" Rikard calls out, but Peaceflower is occupied at that moment, as is the other bartender, Joey.
"Or maybe we'll have to wait a few." He takes another gulp from the glass.

Perched on the surface of an asteroid far, far, distant from the Spidermobile, Toxar Renault, famed relic hunter and occasional intergalactic criminal, looks over the results of his latest test.

"No, no, NO!" He snarls. "Still only a momentary loss of power. That's not nearly enough!"

He starts furiously entering information into his console. Once finished, he barks at his lackeys:

"Bring the device on-line! This time, it won't fail!"

As the lackeys scurry to do his bidding, Renault mutters to himself:

"Commander Milkshake... your helmet will be mine!"

A voice from Renault's subspace communicator gives him a startle.

"Not yours, exactly, Mr. Renault."

Renault wheels around in his chair to face the blacked-out monitor.

"Of course, of course. Spirit of the hunt, and all that. But I remind you, much of the crew will be unaffected by the loss of gravity; we need a way to incapacitate the others."

"Only once you have achieved that goal may you start worrying about the next. I will speak with you later."

The connection is severed, leaving Renault looking much more worried than before...

Oh, goo'ness.

A weird looking guy dressed in a 1980's style white bucket hat (ala what LL Cool J wore back then), a blue, red, yellow and black #01 football jersey with a comm badge on it, baggy, ill-fitting cargo jeans, and white hi-top shoes walks into Zen Forward. He pulls out a microphone....

"Entertainment Officer Rap Man reporting for duty.
I must be a pirate, `cause I gets {all} tha booty!
If you got a record, I'll spin it.
If you got a grill, I'll be all up in it!"

There goes the neighborhood.

Maybe we should hold a meeting about this?

From the bar, Rikard takes note of Entertainment Officer Rap Man.

"Now we can get this party started. Well, even more started."
12 of 10, still at the bar with him, give him and inquisitive look. "Who were you talking to?"
Rikard shrugs. "Ah, no one in particular. Just talking." Rikard raises the glass he's holding, toasting to the EO's arrival.

"I've got more mad cheddar than an overheated dairy
I've written more songs than that chump named Barry
For you all, I got nothin' but hugs
But are you do with my homeboys? Are you down with my thugs?

Crooks stalking in the dark, making crime in the streets
When everyone in their right mind should be snoozin' in between the sheets
One asks another what to steal, and he says `I don't give a c-r-a-p, man'
Five seconds later, they're laying out cold, because they got punked out by Rap Man!"

Dass what I'm talkin' bout!

In their corner the Furbys preparing the final arrangements for The Very, Very Best of Richard Wagner. Who will survive?

Who will survive?

Siegfried?

Quincy motions to get everyone's attention....

Ladies and gentlemen, I have a little surprise for everyone. (brief pause) As most of you know, I happen to be an Iron Chef. Well, when I found out that we were going to be having this little get-together, I took the opportunity to make dinner for everyone. And not just ANY dinner! I've recreated some of the dishes that I've made during some of my most famous battles!

There is a brief flash of teal colored light. When it disappears, Quincy is dressed in his Iron Chef Mexican uniform, which has a sombrero for the headpiece (no, he doesn't wear it when he cooks).

=/\=Transporter room, please beam the food in.=/\=

A few seconds later, several tables full of food beam in. There's easily enough to feed everyone in the room. Quincy walks over and points out what each dish is.

First, we have Lamb Tacos with guacamole and roast garlic. I first made this dish in a battle against Pierre Lucas, my fifteenth battle and eleventh straight win.

Second, Roasted Garogplon salad, served with bacon and chunks of cheddar cheese, with a chipolte and sunflower seed sauce. The Garogplon was marinated in 50 year old Balsamic vinegar for 15 minutes before cooking. I made this in the final match of my second Iron Chef tournament, facing Iron Chef Martian L'onn L'ewis. (pauses) For those of you who have never sampled roasted Garogplon, it has a taste someone like that of beef jerky, but has a texture similar to that of roast turkey, only not as dry.

Third, Smoked Eel wrapped in grape leaves. The eel was rubbed with saffron before it was wrapped, and is served with a light cream sauce that has just a hint of black pepper added. This dish was made in my thirty-fifth battle, which was against noted food critic turned chef, Jake Jefferson. It should be noted that for this battle, the ingredient was picked by the challenger and both of us had two hours to prepare before the battle, unless most episodes of Iron Chef.

Fourth, a dish I made for any vegetarians we might have here. Barbecued tofu, red peppers and squash, served on a bed of grits mixed with truffles. There is also caviar available to be mixed in with the grits and truffles, for anyone who isn't a vegetarian and would care to indulge.
The dish was made during the Millionth Dish Special, in which I teamed up with Iron Chef Japanese Toshiro Serizawa and southern gourmet Julianne Baker to face Iron Chefs German and Venusian and the aforementioned Pierre Lucas.

Finally, for desert, something I've never actually made as an Iron Chef. BUT, I planned to make it for a battle that I won against food cart chef Miles Flannery three years ago. Unfortunately, the ice cream machine malfunctioned, so I was unable to do so. I present to you....Pickle ice cream with peanut butter sauce!

He smiles.

Feel free to dig in!

While everybody else is eating the special entertainment program starts.

alt-Furby plays the announcer.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have for you one of the most unique acts in the world today. He's...well I'll say no more, just let you see for yourselves...ladies and gentlemen, my very great privilege to introduce The Furby, and his musical tribbles!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Ladies and gentlemen. I have in this box fourty-seven tribbles. Tribbles which have been painstakingly trained over the past few years, to squeak at a selected pitch.

He raises a tribble.

This is E sharp... and this one is G. You get the general idea. Now these tribbles are so arranged upon this rack, that when played in the correct order they will squeak 'The Balls of Richard Wagner'.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you on the tribble organ 'The Balls of Richard Wagner'! Thank you.

He produces two cybermallets and starts striking the tribbles while singing quietly 'The Balls of Richard Wagner'. Each downward stroke of the mallet brings a terribly squashing sound and the expiring squeak. It indeed appears that he is slaughtering the tribbles. The musical effect is poor. After the first few notes crewmembers are shouting 'Stop it, stop him someone, Oh my God, my ears!'. The Furby cheerfully takes a bow. He is hauled off by alt-Furby.

No tribbles were harmed during this musical presentation!

Bravo!

Announcer: "And now for something completely different - a Furby with a tape recorder up his nose."

We see the Furby, in evening dress, on a small stage, with potted plants, etc. He ostentatiously inserts a finger up one nostril. We hear the 'Ride of the Valkyries'. He removes the finger; the music stops. He inserts the finger up the other nostril: We hear rewinding noises. Once again he inserts a finger up the first nostril: Again we hear the 'Ride of the Valkyries'. He bows. Cut to stunned redshirts applauding and back. He inserts a finger up his nostril again, and we hear:

Announcer: "And now for something completely different - a Furby with a tape recorder up his brother's nose."

Cut to the Furby on small stage as before, this time also with alt-Furby. The Furby puts a finger up alt-Furby's nostril: We hear the 'Ride of the Valkyries'. He removes it: The music stops. He puts a finger up alt-Furby's other nostril, and we hear rewinding noises.

Announcer: "AND NOW IN STEREO..."

The Furby simultaneously puts a finger up his own nostril and a finger (on the other hand) up alt-Furbys; we hear two recordings of the 'Ride of the Valkyries' together (out of sync). Cut to stunned redshirts applauding for the last time in their life.

"Well, there's only one thing known to counter the side effects of hearing Furbies playing Wanger...."

He stands up and does an imitation of William Shatner singing Mac The Knife.

The stunned redshirts' brains explode.

The next morning, the crew await their orders from Admiral Chen. Those which aren't passed out on the floor of Zen-Forward, that is.

Awaiting, sir!

The next morning, Sick Bay is doing a brisk business, catering to the crew's collective whopping hangover. Lt. Delgado, looking decidedly the worse for wear, stumbles by before reporting for duty.

"Doctor, I--"

"Of course you do," HoloDoc interjects, almost absent-mindedly pressing a hypospray to Delgado's neck while tending to another patient. Fortunately, he doesn't have his hypos crossed, and Delgado's condition starts to improve rapidly.

"Ahhh... Thanks, Doc. Had a few in here this morning?"

"Only about two-thirds of the crew. Apparently, someone around here needs to schedule an alcohol information session, the way you all carry on..."

"Um. Well, good luck with that."

Delgado beats a hasty retreat.

When Delgado gets back to his station, there is a message waiting for him...

Lt. Delgado, this is EarthSysGov DoS. We are still waiting for your report on the excessive redshirt deaths upon the Spidership. Your report is now overdue by six months.

EarthSysGov out.

"Oh. Yeah. That."

Delgado makes a note to start working on the report... soon. Hey, six months isn't that late, right? Right.

Renault paces back in forth in his cavern of solitude-ish-ness. The reason soon becomes clear as the subspace communicator springs to life, the enigmatically black screen providing a conduit of communication to Renault's employer.

"Are you ready?" the employer asks.

"We've made the final adjustments. But the Spidership is moving out of range. If this doesn't work--"

"You should spend less time worrying and get on with the test!" the voice snaps.

"Of course. Well... here goes..."

Renault and his lackeys calibrate their instruments and soon, their power-draining device is working its charms on the Spidership. And indeed, the adjustments seem to have the proper effect. Abord the ship, all power levels plummet just as before, only this time, they stay off-line for a full minute, before Renault is satisfied and shuts everything down."

"Excellent, Mr. Renault," the voice praises.

"There are still lots of things we need to tweak before we attack," Renault interjects.

"I'm sending you the specifications of a device that will disrupt many of the powered advantages you're concerned with. After construction, you'll have to find another powered ship to test it on. I assume you'll be able to find one?"

"We'll start looking."

"I shall contact you again in a week's time."

And the connection is severed abruptly.

Uh, there's nothing the principal characters can do now to further this plotline, apathy will set in again, and few posts, all non-story, will be made. I recommend the plot be furthered by the storyling author immediately.

Yawning a little, Rikard walks into the Observation lounge. Milkshake is the only other person there.
"You okay, Number One?"
Rikard nods, rubbing his head a little.
"Yeah, I'm fine, sir. Between the partying and the music, though, my head hasn't quite yet made it back. Doc helped though, I'll be good."
Milkshake nods. The doors open again and Jackson, Butrfli, and Alex walk in. Soon the rest of the senior staff arrive. Once everyone is settled, Milkshake begins.

"Good morning everyone. Last night, I was contacted by Admiral Chen concerning our next assignment. He didn't tell me the details of our mission, but we are on course to the Voutaran Empire. The admiral is supposed to contact us right about..."
Behind him, the wallscreen beeps.
"...now."

Milkshake and the rest of the staff turn their attention to the screen. On it the seal of the Earth System Government appears. A few seconds later, Admiral Chen takes its place.

"Greetings LICC. Three days ago, we received a transmission from the Voutaran Empire. Civil war has broken out and they have asked for our help in ending it. Now normally, we wouldn't interfere with this situation, but due to the nature of the war's aggressor, we've decided to lend them a hand. Now, about the aggressor...."
Chen pauses for a moment before continuing.

"As some of you may know, in 2418 the Sanity of Society Protection Act was passed, directly causing the cancellation of the highly successful children's tv show Barney the Purple Dinosaur. All materials related to this extremely successful show were destroyed or banned from Terran space. For centuries, entertainment companies tried to fill the gap in children's programming that this action caused, but they only found mild success. Until 2911 that is, when Calvin the Crocodile premiered."

This name causes a few of the staff to wince.

"Calvin's program was incredibly popular and successful until 2992 when Calvin devoured his entire child cast on the air. He fled Terran Space before he could be detained. We soon discovered that Calvin was a very strong telepath and used his abilities to control minds on his ever rotating young casts. He only needed to eat once every few months, but when he did, the children, and their families, made for simple, willing meals. We've been searching for Calvin the yellow Crocodile for over a decade now and our failure to catch him has led to disaster for the Voutaran Empire. According to their intelligence, Calvin arrived there three years ago. He used his now much stronger telepathic powers to slowly enslave the minds of not just a few people, but hundreds. Through a new entertainment program he started in the Voutaran Empire, he not only managed to take control of his cast and crew, but also his millions of viewers, all without their realization of what was happening. A few days ago, Calvin activated all of his sleeper troops, putting him in control of a massive and unwillingly loyal army. He enslaved all the right people and he has a good chance of taking over this empire. So now the Voutaran Empire is in the grips of a civil war."

Chen pauses again, allowing the crew to take this information in.

"Your group's lone purpose will be to go in and take Calvin out. We believe once he is killed, his control over his armies will disappear. Because of Calvin's immense mental powers, we're also sending you a pair of specialists to help defeat him. The Io is on its way to meet you at the rendezvous point that we sent to you. There you will receive Lt. Commander Zartali, a naturally telepathic Crithorian, and his protege, Ensign David Sherman, a powered human who also has impressive mental abilities. You may use them as you see fit. Good luck, Commander. Good luck to all of you."
And with that, the transmission ends.

*sigh* "Why couldn't it have been Hobbes the Hippopotamus?"

Several crewmembers look at him funny.

"What? Hobbes was one of the worst kids' shows ever created! I can't be the only one who would like to clean his clock for all the garbage we were forced to watch as kids because of him!"

Hey, Rocket, while we're waiting for the Io, how about a quick game of "Hippo in the House"... oh, um... probably not. Sorry.

Ugh. We've faced Taconator, O'kak, Muffin Men and Professor Negative. And now they're giving us Calvin the Crocodile? This could be a suicide mission.

No matter. Number One, ETA to the rendezvous point?

Jackson: Steve, our suits' helmets are equipped with anti-telepathy technology. Whether it's strong enough to counter Calvin's powers... I recommend we get the latest headgear and distribute it the crew.
Butrfli: I know a few spells that can temporally jam telepathic messages. I could enable them when we get closer. Then again, it doesn't distinguish the source, so when they do get going, our guests' telepathic powers will be jammed too...

Rikard checks.
"Well, we seem to be making really good time. We'll reach our destination in just under four hours." Rikard sits back, shaking his head.
"I knew that that reptile was evil."
"Who didn't?" he hears Insane reply.

"By the way, sir, what was with that shutdown we had this morning? Think it was related to the one last night? And have we figured out why the ship keeps doing it?" Rikard asks.

A blueshirt looks up from the console and addresses whoever the heck is in charge of the bridge right now.

Sir, we seem to be infected by something called "The Honor Code Virus". It asks us to forward it to all our friends and then to delete all our files by hand.

Ansh, sitting in the Observation lounge, has been very quiet through the whole meeting.

Calvin the Crocodile! she thinks It's a long time since I've heard of HIM! I used to love that show. My parents said that the kids were just acting when they were eaten in that episode, but Tammy knew better. I still remember how she used to threaten me with Calvin if I'd been pestering her too much!

The Angry Fisherman is down in Engineering just now, she says aloud he's running diagnostics on all ship's systems. We still don't have any idea about what REALLY happened, but he's been coming up with a few wild theories.

Arrr! It were that Pepperman what made 'er be a-crashin'!

I'll be a-gettin' ye, Pepperman! Just ye wait!

I doubt that, Fisherman. Still, it's troubling.

FAST FORWARD!

"Captain, the Io is approaching."

As the Io approaches, music comes out of the bridge speakers.

I owe, I owe, so off to space I go!
whistling

Hail them.

The music on the speakers changes...

Hail! Hail! The Gang's all Here!

Sir, we couldn't find the hail. All we have left is a mild snowstorm.

After a few seconds, a human male's face appears on the screen.
"Commander Milkshake," he says, nodding.
"Captain Higgins," Milkshake acknowledges.
"Commander Zartali and Ensign Sherman are ready to beam over to your ship if you're ready to receive them."

When did the ship's mouse become an ensign?

Milkshake looked at Rikard, recieved a quick nod of affirmation, and turned back to the viewscreen.

"We're ready to recieve the officers, Captain Higgins."

*Whispering to Milkshake*

"Ask Henry if Lt. Magnum is still onboard his ship."

What?

A few minutes later, Milkshake and a few other crew head down to Transporter Room 1. After walking in, Milkshake nods to the transporter chief.
"Energize."

The chief works the controls, and the transporters do what they do best. On the pad, two humanoid forms fade into view.

Transporter 1: What is it that we do best, anyways?
Transporter 2: Heck if I know. But hey, let's transport those guys over, just to make these humans happy.
Transporter 1: Sounds good to me.

Milkshake steps forward as the new arrivals fully rematerialize

Welcome to the Spidermobile, gentlemen.

"Commander Milkshake," Zartali says, bowing, "It is a privilege to serve under you. The LICC has quite the reputation." The purplish-grey Crithorian motions to the man standing beside him.
"As you no doubt are aware, this is Ensign David Sherman. He serves under me."
David just nods.

"Commander, I have with me the coordinates of our destination in Voutaran space. We are to meet with a ship belonging to Voutarans still loyal to their empire. They claim to have a plan to get us to Calvin undetected. So, shall we proceed, sir?"

Very well, if you'll follow me to the bridge..

Minutes later, the Spidership is on its way into Voutaran space. On the viewscreen, rather than the streaking stars, is a graphic that shows the Spidership's projected course.

"The chosen course is designed to take us deep into Voutaran space without detection of any forces controlled by Calvin," Zartali explains, "When we reach our destination, a vessel from the Voutaran resistance is supposed to be there."

Hasn't anyone told them that Resistance Is Futile™?

They are dressed all in black and polish their hidden weapons.

"There's no business like assassination business! It's been a long time since I inhumed somebody in a decent way."

"Tinfoil hat, poison darts, modified jet engine, juju sticks, crocodile-shaped voodoo doll, fake Excalibur..."

No, Resistance Is Useless!

Butrfli: Fake Excalibur? Oh well..
As I mentioned to Commander Milkshake earlier, I have at my disposal a variety of spells that can counter Calvin's telepathy. The only problem is that it will affect your telepathy, too.
Jackson: Also, we should be able to pick up helmets with the latest anti-telepathy technology for the crew that goes after Calvin.

Looking at Commander Milkshake.

Hmmm...which suit of armor should I use...my Stealth armor, Heavy Assault armor, or Commando-Ninja Armor?

We'll see what conditions are when we arrive, Ranger.

Number One, lay in the new coordinates, and engage.

How about his medieval chainmail?

Sirs, I have a remote control fighter ship in the shuttlebay. We can send that out to scout the area.

I'd rather fight for my own remote control, thank you very much!

"I'm not completely sure what they're planning to do, but I believe the Voutarans we are meeting are going to attempt to sneak us onto their homeworld. If that is the case, your stealth armor might be a wise choice," he says, answering Rocket Ranger's question, "then again, if they already have stealth covered, you may want to take armor more suited for fighting. The Voutarans will give us the details but I am guessing that we'll have to fight many of his people before we reach Calvin himself. As for your ideas Ms..." he pauses, "Butrfli was it? These ideas, the spells and equipment, should prove to be useful. Calvin, however, may have counters that would render them useless."

"That's why you have us, isn't it?" David Sherman says, finally speaking up.

"What do you think, how many Calvin handbags can we make from his skin?"

"Don't be so greedy, my dear brother. Perhaps it is even possible to reintegrate Calvin into our civilized society. After some brainwashing he could become a really valuable member. I heard that the Salvation Army is hiring..."

...and if they're not, then the Salvation Navy probably is!

Back down on deck five a lonely Redshirt watches holo-TV in his quarters. His favorite program runs - the Galactic Hitparade!

...

...

...

Finally the top three:

#3: Some Greys - "The Girl from Ipanema" - thoughtfully performed in a space elevator

Yeah!

#2: Michael Jackson (the 13th, a clone) - "Heal my Nose"

Booo!

#1: Oscar, Osric, Osbert, Osram and Lee Harvey Furby - "Instruction Manual for the ENIAC"

ARGH!

If you are familiar with LICC then you already know what happens next: The unlucky Redshirt's head explodes and a small droid cleans up the resulting mess.

...

...

...

The TV still runs.

"Ladies, Gentlemen and Other Beings, the news: The Earth's presidential elections ended just a few seconds ago and the winner is: ... N-no, this can't be... That's impossible... Somebody, no, something must have manipulated the results... I wont announce this!"

The screen goes dark for a moment and a distinct *zap* followed by a *thud* and a *screech* can be heard. When the picture is back there is a new anchor: An obviously female blonde Furby in a green miniskirt.

"Please excuse the short technical problem. I can assure you that my former colleague already feels much better and will return after a long vacation in a health spa on Pluto.

Now for the results of the presidential election: The winner is... this time surprisingly not one of the many hewman candidates but...

Frank N. Furby!

Congratulations, Mr.President!

There has been already much rejoicing on the streets and thus the Prez established the whole planet under martial law. Have a nice day."

Rikard sees the news on a very small side screen on the bridge.

"Well, can't say I like the sound of that."

In a secret lab somewhere....

Mad Scientist: "Lets do the time warp."

Assistant: "Again?"

"I still don't think this will work." Artsy, standing in Seeker's private bay, brushing amused-peach hair out of her eyes.

I, HUMOR, Seeker replies. There is a telepathic ripple throughout the bay.

"I can still see you," Artsy informs her ship with a smirk.

SATISFACTION, it replies. HIM ASK.

Still grinning, Artsy turns and calls to the blueshirt working on the doors' mechanism. "Ensign! What do you see in here?"

The blueshirt straightens up, and frowns. "I'm sorry, ma'am. One of our fighters must have docked here by mistake. I'll make sure it's moved before Seeker returns."

SEE?

"Oh very well." Artsy grins at Seeker. "I'll go talk to Rikard." As she leaves, there is another ripple, and she can almost hear the ensign's mouth drop open.

"What the ....?"

We're getting close to Calvin's territory. Even from here, I can sense his telepathic waves, looking for new minds. Luckily, we're far away enough not to be affected by him.

Nobody comes between me and my Calvin!

David Sherman nods at Butrfli's comment.

"Yeah, the course we picked is keeping us on the fringes of the Voutaran Empire," David says,"As far as we know, the bulk of the Voutaran resistance has had to stay out here to avoid Calvin's influence. As a result, they've had difficulty launching any large attacks against key locations in the Empire."

The helm console beeps.
"Commander, we're approaching the rendezvous coordinates."

"Good, prepare to take us out of warp," Milkshake orders. Seconds later, the streaking stars of warp shorten back to points. Straight ahead, sits a grey, heavily armed ship, slightly smaller than the Spidership.

Zartali nods.
"A Voutaran Imperial Strike Ship. They're our contact."

Can't we bribe Calvin with underwear?

The turblift doors open, and a group of small people dressed in various costumes, step out and say in unison
TRICK OR TREAT!

Three redshirts immediately die from heart attacks caused by the surprise.

Do you like Britney Spears holo-CDs? You know the Britney ban has been lifted ten minutes ago by the new Prez.

HEY, you don't have to run away right now!

AAHHHHHHH!

An unearthly surge of dark energy vibrates through the Spidership, sending a cold chill through on the back of the neck (or thorax exoskeleton, not that there's anything wrong with that) of every lifeform on the Spidership, well, at least a chill, the Jedi still get a really nasty headache, but that's aside the point. A hole in the universe from a shadow realm opens, a figure emerges, then the hole closes, and the screaming stops. A being in the shape of Donna emerges from the brimstone fumes and survey's the coridor. He smiles and says.

"Sorry I'm late."

She Begans to walk towards the ship's library on deck 6.

The main viewscreen changes to display the DoS symbol. Zap. It is Undersecretary Scribblewood-Smythe, better known as Paperwork Man. Like no other being he can fill out forms with nearly the speed of light. But he can also create forms at the same speed and many people thus consider him a supervillain too.

"Howdy, LICC. What's the current state in your dealings with that croc? I haven't got any reports from you lately and I must say that I'm deeply disappointed by this. Is it really so difficult for you to write a short protocol every eight hours? I mean, many of you have supernatural abilities and while you're in your private parallel universes you really could write a few pages!"

Maybe we should hold a meeting about this?

Alternatively, we could contact the Voutaran ship.

Didn't I order we contact the Voutaran ship? This is what happens when nobody listens to me. Make it so.

I guess this means we won't have a meeting. Drat.
fade to black.

Did Commander Milkshake use the Cone of Silence?

Not the Cone of Silence, Max.

The image of the warship on the screen changes to the face of an olive skinned alien. The Voutaran rolls his head, his species equivalent of a nod of acknowledgement.
"Earth vessel, thank you for lending your assistance of our situation. Those still loyal to our true government greatly appreciate your gesture. I am Master Svinlane'otala of the Voutaran Imperial Navy. I request to come aboard your ship to further discuss our plans to move against the pretender sitting on our homeworld."

Um, okay.

Yay!!! A meeting! I'll get busy setting it up!

Yeah, have fun with that.

A figure dressed in red, brown and gray walks past Meeting Man. He points at a PADD that Meeting Man is holding, and it transforms into 16 ounces of well done sirloin....

So...who wants steak?

Beam them over and get me some prime rib.

It's meeting time, Uncle Red.

"All right, senior staff this is Milkshake. Please report to the Observation Lounge for a," he pauses for a minute a sighs a little, "meeting." He turns to the crew on the bridge.
"Rikard, Zartali, you're with me."

Milkshake, Rikard, and Zartali head for the transporter room. After entering, Milkshake nods to the transporter tech. A few button pushes later, three figures appear on the transporter pad, including Svinlane'otala.

"Welcome to the Spidership, I'm Commander Milkshake. This is my first officer Commander Rikard and this is Lt. Commander Zartali. We hope he'll be helpful in stopping Calvin."
Svinlane'otala shudders a little when Milkshake says Calvin's name.
"Of course. Now, you and your crew must be briefed on our mission immediately. We have little time."
"Alright then, come with us." Milkshake leads his officers and the small alien party back to the bridge and into the Observation Lounge. Waiting for them is the senior staff, plus a nice plate of prime rib.

On the way back to the bridge, Rikard answers the call of nature. After he's done, he heads for the bridge to join the rest of the crew. He turns the corner and nearly runs into Artsy.

"Whoa, Artsy, hey. Are you and Keiran coming to the meeting?"

Butrfli, Alex, and Jackson enter the room. They all notice the ribs.
Alex and Jackson: RIBS!
Butrfli: Boys.

Its a good thing he didn't conjure up some chicken breasts!

We just happen to like ribs, that's all.

When most of the senior staff has arrived, Svinlane'otala begins.

"I once again thank all of you for lending your support to our fight. We have something very specific planned for this group. Your sole purpose will be to infiltrate out homeworld and take Calvin the Crocodile out. Calvin has the power to detect, track, and influence large groups of people and ships. Because of this, we haven't been able to launch any large scale attacks on the core worlds of our empire. We have, however, been successful in sneaking small groups of our agents and soldiers into enemy territory. Doing even this is hazardous, however. Calvin's people are everywhere and if we send in too many people, he'll detect it. What we want to do with you is send in a small strike force, made up of a dozen or so of your people, Commander Milkshake. We'll get them onto our homeworld, Vreentark. From there, you can reach Calvin's headquarters and hopefully stop his reign using your... unique abilities. Your ship will have to remain out here with the bulk of our fleet. Once Calvin is gone, we believe his influence over his people will wane or even disappear and we should be able to move in, as will your ship. Any questions?"

When Rikard asks Artsy if she's coming to the meeting:

"Oh, we're actually planning for a change?" The artist shrugged lemon-yellow. "Yes, I'm coming...not sure where Keiran is though...."

Meating Man walks into the ship's galley. There is a large pile of obsolete equipment lying on a table. Ensign Snewtipantz walks over to MM....

Snewtipantz: Okay, you want to explain why you wanted all this junk brought here? We were going to drop it off for recycling when we next docked at a starbase.

Meating Man (smiling): Watch and learn, grasshopper.

He points at the pile of equipment and concentrates. Suddenly, the junk transforms into a pile of roasted turkeys!

Ensign Snetwipantz: Hmmm....interesting. I'm suddenly getting some sort of strange psychic message, but it doesn't make any sense....

Meating Man: What does it say?

Snewtipantz: `Mouse over the e-mail address'????

Sounds like a plan. I doubt, however, we'd be able to field even twelve. If you haven't noticed, Master Svinlaneotala, we've been quite understaffed as of late.

Butrfli and I have a few ideas. One idea... we have antitelepathy helmets in stock. If we enhance them with technology from this dimension and the various dimensions that we've visited, we might have a way not to be detected by Calvin.
Also, Butrfli has a number of telepathic and antitelepathic spells at her disposal. Also, again, from a number of dimensions. Meaning, we have both a technological and magical advantage over Calvin.

Rikard nods.

"Great, well then, I'm heading up there before I miss the whole thing. Hopefully not too much..."

Quincy K. Rocket chimes in...

Antitelepathic helmets? I don't think so. Not a good idea.

Whoever: You have something better in mind?

Quincy: Yes. Yes, I do.

He pauses

Gentlemen, the information I'm about to impart is highly classified, so don't share the source of it with anyone outside the command staff. Make up lies if you have to, but you didn't hear about this from me.

Ever since the Zarvekian Mindkillers' attempted invasion of Plerius V back in 2987, everyone who had heard about it has wondered how the Pleriusans managed to repel the invasion with only a third of the expected casualities. Well, they did it with ....

He walks over and begins inputting some information into a nearby console. The viewscreen changes to show a weird looking apparatus about the size of a medicine capsule.

....this. Its an earplug developed by Pleriusan scientists after examining the remains of a Mindkiller slain by a Lifeblood Sorceror who happened to be visiting that planet at the time. In addition, the Lifeblood Sorceror, who happened to be a natural telepath, also submitted to an examination so that they could use that information as well to help develop an antitelepathic weapon of sorts.

He types in some more information. The viewscreen switches to show an image of a Lifeblood Sorceror standing next to a group of Pleriusans. The Lifeblood Sorceror in question just happens to be Ojanon.

When Plerius V joined the Galactic Order in 2994, they shared the specs of the device, and it was modified to work with other species, including humans. Hence, why the schematic I showed is much smaller than one built for a Pleriusan's rather....large....ear canal.

Only one of these earplugs needs to be worn, leaving the other ear free for other things, such as headset communication devices. The earplug doesn't interfere with the hearing in the ear it is worn it at all. What it does is broadcast a sort of...telepathic `static'. However, at the wearer's mental command, the earplug can broadcast a telepathic feedback that causes intense pain for about 45 seconds. Unfortunately, there are two drawbacks to this; One, the wearer has to know for sure that someone is actually trying to use telepathy against them, or the feedback is wasted. Two, each earplug can only emit this feedback once, and doing so burns the earplug's power completely out.

He smiles

A telepath who helped test out the devices described the pain as on par with being forced to sit through a Gary Manilow, Michael Bolton the IX, and Shanzatha Debrios concert...twice.

Any questions?

*to Snewtipantz* That's weird... I'm getting a message as well, and I can't understand it either...

Snewtipantz: What does it say?

It sounds a bit like "You tried to put an apostrophe into a phoney e-mail address again, didn't you?" Any idea what that could mean?

"Yeah," Rikard says as he walkd in to the Observation Lounge, "Can you replicate these things? And if not, how many do you have with you?"

Artsy takes a seat next to Rikard, hair shading to yellow streaked powder blue with excitement. "Excuse me. I might have something to add to our resources."

Milkshake hesitates, then nods to her.

Artsy stands, hands clasped nervously behind her back. "I heard we're going against a pretty strong telepath." There are some murmurs of agreement. "Well, I'm not telepathic, but Seeker--my fighter--is. And he just showed me a skill he's been working on...camoflauge by telepathy. Making people see what they expect to see, instead of himself. It works pretty well on mundanes, and since it's fairly easy for one telepathic miind to locate another close by, I think he would be able to pull the same stunt even within close range of Calvin." She rocks on her heels, thinking. "Seeker's not big enough to act as troop transport, but he might be able to contribute cover or do some reconaissance of the area."

Artsy waits a few seconds, then awkwardly takes her seat.

Good, I like it. Seeker can hold at least a couple humanoids, can't he?

upon a nod from Artsy, Milkshake continues

I'd like to put a couple of team members in Seeker as a reserve. It seems like Seeker would be our best shield against detection, and could be a valuable backup in case our shuttle is detected.

I have a fighter that could be used as a distraction. It's remotely piloted, so there wouldn't be any telepathic signals to detect... Unless... Quincy, would my linking to the ship's controls leave a telepathic signature? I'm asking since you did design the thing...
Plus, the fact that it can both phase and cloak makes it an effective scout vehicle.

Answering Commander Rikard's question....

Due to a built-in security measure, the earplugs cannot be replicated. I have approximately 16 units on hand, and Wayne and Kent are currently working on them in my lab. They are in the process of modifying them to do away with the telepathic static, since that would give Calvin and his allies a sign that something is amiss. Instead, the earplugs will transmit something akin to the natural distortions that occur naturally on telepathic frequencies on occasion.

He pauses.

Don't worry about this. The Galactic Order has used earplugs with this particular modification on a few occasions, with no problems whatsoever.

Suddenly, everyone in the room hears a voice in their heads. A voice that should be familiar to a few of the members of LICC who are present...

I can attest to that fact, my friends.

Quincy is smiling.

I forgot to mention....when I learned the nature of this mission, I called him.

Suddenly, a transparent figure appears in the middle of the room, and solidifies - sort of like a ghost becoming solid, or an invisible figure slowly becoming visible - The figure is dressed in green robes with a cloak and hood. Only the lower part of his face can be seen, and he appears to have a green goatee.

If Calvin has indeed returned, then you will need my help.

The figure throws back the hood of his cloak. He has green hair and is wearing a mask that appears to be made of a solid piece of malachite and covers his face except for his mouth and chin.

Quincy: That's why you're going on this mission instead of me, Ojanon.

Answering Alex's question....

Oh, by the way, to answer your question, Alex....yes, it would leave a telepathic signature. However, I don't think it would take very long to modify the controls to fix that. But even so, I'd recommend you use one of the earplugs just to be on the safe side.

"Are we sure that these will work? There are different types of telepathy. And different levels. And from the sound of it, this Calvin is a pretty powerful guy. What if these devices don't work?"

Quincy just gives Ensign Sherman a dirty look, while a smirk comes across Ojanon's face (what can be seen of it, that is). He turns toward the Ensign and responds....

Obviously, Ensign, you've never read up on the Zarvekian Mindkillers, or you would know better than to ask that question.

Quincy steps in.

For your information, Ensign Sherman, the earplugs have been tested against Class 8 telepathy, and proved effective, although the feedback charge proved to be next to useless. And if you know anything about the various levels of telepathy, then you'd know we'd be screwed with or without the earplugs if Calvin is Class 9 or 10.


Quincy pauses for a second.

Of course, we could just equip a Fordham-Strauss gigapulse wave generator with a cloaking device, dump it somewhere near Calvin's base, then activate it as we warp out of here.

Sherman looks confused.

In 2137, two scientists, Alvin Fordham from England and Gunther Strauss from Austria, teamed up to create a device intended to boost mankind's natural mental abilities. Unfortunately, the two men's calculations were way off, and when they activated the device, the wave of energy created spread across the planet and affected every telepath on Earth. It either left them comatose, catatonic....or dead. Unfortunately, Fordham happened to be mildly telepathic and was standing close to the device when it was activated. He died in a hospital in London 13 years later....still in the coma that the device put him in.

Strauss was left a pariah in the scientific community, and was also bankrupted by the class action suit filed against him and Fordham's estate for the deaths the device caused. He committed suicide by hanging himself in 2143.

BUT....the schematics for the device were confiscated and locked away by the government. When a telepathic serial killer known as the `Mind Stalker' began his murderous spree in Paris in 2643...on the anniversary of Strauss' suicide, by the way....he was stopped for good by a trap involving a Fordham-Strauss wave generator.

Its an effective way to stop telepaths. Surprisingly, its use hasn't been outlawed, but its generally frowned on. And unfortunately, there's no way to create a man-portable weapon that can emit the waves. The smallest known generator was around the size of a two-man escape pod, and only was effective in a four-kilometer radius.

Jackson: Might I suggest that we use all of our suggestions, just to be safe. We start with the generator, activiting it when we land. Then, we use both the earpieces and helmets, and combine them with Butrfli's magic.
Butrfli: I can devise a spell that I can place on the helmets. Once the final word is said by the helmet wearer, a magical and personal antelepathy net will envelope him or her.
Alex: And I can use my fighter to deliver the generator.
Jackson: That way, we have several failsafes and ways to not to be detected by Calvin.

Rikard shakes his head.
"Well, we'd need a Fordham-Strauss to do your plan, Jackson. We don't have one. And, Butrfli, this spell, would it enhance the helmets' power? Would it help mask us from his detection?"

Sherman rolls his eyes. "You might be screwed against a Class 9...."

Zartali cuts him off. "Enough, Ensign. I sincerely hope that he is not a Class 9. The simple fact that he controls millions of individuals indicates that he is at least a Class 7. I believe that bringing these devices with us would be a prudent course of action. However, Master Svinlane'otala," he says, gesturing toward the Voutaran, "indicated that we will be able to reach the planet without their use. I believe it would be best if we refrain from activating any device that can lead to detection until we are on the Voutaran homeworld. It is ultimately Commander Milkshake's decision."

Actually, Commander Rikard, we DO have a Fordham-Strauss gigapulse wave generator. Its in the storage area on board the Thunderwolf. Otherwise, I never would have brought it up in the first place. But it needs to be assembled, and I'm the possibly the only one here who knows how to assemble one properly. That is one of the reasons why Ojanon is going to be taking my place on this mission.

He pauses

You see, it would be better if we held the generator back as a secret weapon....a deus ex machina, if you will....in case anything goes wrong.

I estimate it'll take about 2 hours and 10 minutes to assemble the generator, and that's with Wayne helping me. If anyone else wants to pitch in, it should cut down some of the assembly time.

Ojanon, you'd better take one of the earplugs, just in case. That way, if we do have to use the generator, you'll be somewhat protected from its effects when you use the earplug.

Looks at Ensign Sherman.

Ensign, I don't know why you think you'd be okay faced with a Class 9 or 10 telepath, but I certainly hope you never have that experience.

"I assure you, Mr. Rocket, Ensign Sherman knows the danger that a Class 9 would present. He can sometimes be a little," he pauses for a second, "Overconfident in his abilities."

"I just-" David starts.

"I said that's enough, Ensign," Zartali cuts him off again.

Svinlane'otala responds.

"A cloaked ship would not get within ten light years of any of our major systems. If we are to get this weapon anywhere near Vreentark, we will need to store it onto one of my ships. We would most likely have to do the same to your ship, you Seeker," he says to Artsy, "but once we get them to Vreentark, we will have little problem using them. This weapon of yours sounds, intriguing, Mr. Ranger. But what would it do to my people that are under Calvin's influence? Considering my people are very mildly telepathic, would it greatly affect them as well?"

Artsy has flushed an unsettled shade of gray-blue as she listens to the discussion of the Fordham-Strauss generator. Master Svinlane'otala's comment finally gives her the courage to speak up. "Um--we have telepaths on our own team, you know. What about Ojanon? And Seeker? You mentioned waves...does that mean the generator only operates within atmosphere? Will Seeker be safe as long as he stays high enough?"

(Morgan speaks from a dark corner of the room, ignored...or invisible?...until this point.)

"The problem with Fordham-Strauss setups is that they can be wildly unpredictable. A small machine may generate a field of a few kilometers, but any fluctuation in the power source and it can expand to light-years, easily. It's because of this that they'll be outlawed by the Terran government in about 34 years. It's too dangerous."

Rikard nods in agreement.

"She's right. What would the range on this thing be? If something does go wrong and some of our people don't get out of there, using this generator would not be the best option."

"He's got a point, too."

Quincy doesn't look too pleased....

To answer your questions in order:

Artsy, as I've said before, any telepath using one of the earplugs when the weapon is activated would be mostly protected. Tests have shown that, at best, they'd only suffer a mild headache. At worse, they'd be knocked unconscious for anywhere from ten to twenty minutes. Fordham-Strauss waves are somewhat....diluted...when they travel through the upper atmosphere or through space, so Seeker would be just fine if he\it\whatever climbed high enough.

Morgan, I'm deeply insulted. I don't know how much you know about technology and power sources, but my devices don't get power surges. I include a special power dampening system of my own design in every invention I make that's bigger than a breadbox, which sucks up any excess energy and uses it to charge a back-up battery installed in the equipment. And even if there were a power surge, you've got to be kidding if you think the field could be expanded to a range of light years. The size of the device AND the power source would have to be roughly equivalent to the size of the spidership for that to happen.

Pauses, pulls out a couple of PAADs, and looks at one of them for a second.

Hmmm....if you're against the use of the generator, then could I interest you in any of the devices on this list?

*hands a PAAD to Milkshake and another to Master Svinlane'otala*

"What am I looking at here? What do these devices do? And you didn't answer my question about how it will affect me people."

"Are we even sure that if we needed to we could fit Seeker with one of these earplugs? I mean, he is a very unique individual. The only person that really knows that much about him, is well," he turns to the person sitting to his right, "you, Artsy. You and Rocket should probably figure out if he can use one. Assuming he can't, though, we'll have to be careful if we actually use this weapon."

Artsy shakes her head, eyes dark with doubt. "Seeker, uh, his physiology isn't even close to humanoid. We'd have to hardwire it in or something--"

Something that manifests as a low rumble to most of the non-telepaths in the room makes Artsy wince and clap her hands to her temples. "All right, all right!" she says to the air, then adds to the rest of the company, "Seeker says absolutely not." She closes resigned eyes and adds meekly--hair and clothes flushed lavendar with wounded pride-- "But he's still coming."