Starship Traveller: 86, 209, 125, 177, 231, 42: Not Getting Shot At!

Dull blue planet? Turn away! It's Earth!

      "No answer over radio frequencies?" I ask.

       "No, Captain," Comm Officer Le'rik says.

        I let out a long sigh. "Very well. Officer Ranik, Officer Manstein, I need the two of you down on the planet with me."

        "Captain," Security Officer Wylylyl says, "I highly recommend you bring at least one body guard from my security det-"

        I cut her off with a sharp wave of my hand. One of the best things about being Captain, really. "It's a planet with cities. I'm sure it's very civilized."

        The intercom flares to life and Yankee's almost unintelligible accent bursts in, "Are you sure you want me, Captain? There's still a lot of work to be done down in engineering."

        "Of course I need you," I say, "You're the only one who can identify what strange technology we may find down there. You're coming down and that's an order."

Choice: Beam down with Manstein and Melink: 209

      

       I think this is the right picture. They're not captioned in this book, which is a mistake because I can't be sure which reference they're supposed to go with. Still, city with odd shaped buildings and I guess that's a road.

       It's not exactly a breathtaking vista, but I do like the strange zeerust building alongside what appear to be hide huts. These artists really dig their crosshatching.

And by "multitude of shapes" we mean "one really weird thing and a bunch of very similar huts".

      Melink retches, and I swear I hear some not entirely digested mammal in her system squeal in agony. Melink has never been great with the transportation system. Manstein, conversely, seems perfectly calm and happy. My own stomach churns, but I keep composure.

       Manstein lets out a long chirp. He calls it a 'whistle' and says it shows being impressed, but to me it always sounds like a child's cries. "Whoever's on the zoning commission hasn't been sober in awhile," he says.

        Melink shakes her head, clearing the last vestiges of her nausea. "Let's just go to the big building and be done with it. Big buildings are important in every culture."

        "Calm down," i say, "Let's take this slow. No reason to go bursting around making waves. Let's just try and find some locals."

Choice: Continue Down the Road: 125

       "I said stun, Officer," I repeat to Melink. She grumbles, but I see her phaser color shift from its dark crimson to bright blue.

Bet it's a carved squash.

        I have to swat Melink's gun down so she's not aiming it in the face of whoever startled us. Manstein shows none of this aggression, turning round leisurely and still chewing his wood pulp.

Uh... is "Warmth and a drink" a euphemism round these parts? Because, if so, yes.

      "Warmth and a drink sound wonderful," Manstein interrupts my efforts to proclaim the full declaration of peace from Astro to all visited worlds, "Specially if you've got a couple of brews to hand." He beside the shivering creature as they advance together down the street.

        "At least now we know they're not amazed by alien visitors," I say.

         "We should have shot it," Melink insists.

          "What kind of Science Officer are you, exactly?"

           "The kind who learns a lot from vivisection."

Choice: Hospitality: 177

I've had conversations like that.

       "Sainted feces!" Manstein shouts. I suspect the translator has failed to pick up the subtleties of that particular phrase. He uses it a lot.

       Melink raises her phaser again, and I slap it down. "If I have to slap that phaser down again, I'm taking it from you altogether, Officer!"

       "But we should put it out of its misery," she says, pointing not at the assailant, but our guide.

        "Did not think you were going there," Manstein admits.

        I stride away from both my Officers to ensure the well being and survival of our guide.

Choice: Aid: 19

Unfortunately the leg is that of a table.

      I wish silently that I had brought Pyriba down. It would have something to say about this marvel. Something hopefully different than Melink's contribution: "See, he'd probably survive the vivisection!"

Little intelligence? Are we talking like a flatworm or a human child or what?

      "Does this Timol have a name?" I ask while Melink scribbles a note onto her datapad. Hopefully about the Kroll and its healing factor.

       The Kroll shrugs, and I hope it's an expression of apathetic uncertainty as it is in many species, "Probably."

       "Okay..." I say, "Let's talk to the Timol, then."

        "Cheers!" Manstein says, taking a sip of the strange golden liquid neither Melink nor I took. Manstein later described it as tasting like a mixture of honey and blood. Melink theorizes the creature made the liquid from its own blood and sugary secretions. I am glad not to have drunk it, though Manstein insists he had 'far worse any given week by the shore.'

Choice: Timol: 231

     "I hardly think breaking and entering is the correct course here," I say as Manstein barges through the door.

       "I didn't break nothing," the engineer replies with his usual calm.

        Melink hangs back to take pictures of the sticks, while I tentatively follow Manstein in.

What an odd place for a space shot.

       This time I slap Melink's hand down before it even gets halfway up. The gun clatters across the ground, where Manstein deftly picks it up with one of his feet.

       I hold up my hands and approach slowly. "We mean you no harm," I say as the beginning to the declaration of peace.

Choice: Mean No Harm: 42

     "Yes," I say, "Terribly ugly." Leave it, I tell myself, it's probably a context problem in translation.

      "Hey there," Manstein says, "I'm Malcolm, now we won't be strangers the next time I wake you up."

       The Timol laughs good naturedly, and bops up and down on its thick leg.

       Manstein looks at me when I decline the food. He does that thing where he tries to make his antennae work like human eyebrows to express emotions, but I really have no idea what he's going for.

       "As much as we appreciate your hospitality," I tell the Timol, "We cannot be certain of the health effects of Timol food upon us."

        The Timol nods as though this is perfectly acceptable, but Manstein crosses his arms and chews more vigorously on his wood pulp. Filthy habit.

Mhm... I'm guessing Jackson isn't about to say anything nice about Anarchy.

       "Must be confusing," I sympathize.

       "Just call it what you like," Melink says as though it's the simplest thing in the world, "And devour any rivals who would dispute your claim." The Timol takes a hop back away from Melink.

        "Names have a habit of making themselves up," Manstein opines, "People will start calling it something and it'll catch on till it's the name. Just takes a bit."

       Melink makes a note.

       "And where could we find Culematter?" I ask.

        The timol shrugs, and again I rely on the relative universality of the gesture, "Don't know anything about astronomy."

        I nod, thank the creature for his hospitality, and then head out again. "May as well see if anyone in this anarchist commune knows about Culematter. Big building is probably a good place to start."

       "Then why didn't we start there," says Melink, petulantly  Out on the street, Manstein hands me Melink's phaser, and I keep it.

Choice: Main Building: 73

    Oh my stars! Weird and interesting, if oversimplified, planets? Strange and unpredictable alien races? A sense of odd humor about the whole thing? So many yesses! 

       So far, between this and The Citadel of Chaos I think I like Jackson's writing a lot more for these adventures. I'm engaged, and I want to explore rather than simply run around solving puzzles and getting in fights. So let's check it all out!