[A crackle, rip, and flash. An alien destroyer, bristling with armaments, vomits into high Earth orbit.] “Earth insertion, Commander.” — “Very good. Damage?” “None, Commander.” — “The crew?” “Stand by. Yes. The usual nausea. One crewman dead.” — “Which?” “Hold, Commander... Slithfield, a lowly in the vent bay. Jump shock.” — “Weakling.” “Yes, Commander.” — “Very well. We have the Earth, for what it’s worth. Target capitals; ready the siphon.” “I obey.” — “What’s that?” “Where, Commander?” — “That streak.” “A station, Commander.” — “I see that. What’s it doing? Resolve.” “It’s... training a maser on the surface.” — “Targeting what? Show me... Holy merciful tentacles! A John Snyder!”
Posted on: Wed, 21 Aug 2013 04:14:47 +0000
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