CHAPTER FIVE

“Will the Klingers ever rule the Universe? Well we’ve got thousands li
ke Dennis and thousands
like Otto. So what do you think?”
GENERAL DRAYGO

PART ONE
Ricky was waiting for the Captain when he materialized back on the bridge. “
Boy have I got some news for you,” he drawled as big brother stepped off the Tra
nsporter Platform.
“And boy have I got some news for you!” big brother shot back angrily. “You
stole my Pendant!”
Ricky grinned at him. “Traded it,” he drawled casually.
“Traded it!” stormed the Captain. “My Pendant!? You know it’s got something
to do with the Evil, I mean you know I’m very fond of it. And you traded it! Wha
t for?”
“Some exceptionally fine cigarettes,” Ricky replied. “Reality altering cigar
ettes. Want to try one?”
“No I don’t,” snapped the Captain. “Who did you trade with?”
“Klingers.”
The Captain’s eyes widened. “Klingers! Arch-enemies of the Federation and yo
u’re trading with them?”
Ricky shrugged. “What the hell,” he drawled.
“Talking about Klingers,” Butch Bradley said as he wandered over, “we took a
couple of them prisoner when you were down on Dulcodaz. They beamed aboard afte
r you left. Seems they were sent to kill you. I’ve got them ready for torturing.
”
The Captain raised his eyes wearily to the ceiling. “Where are they?”
“Well I wanted to weld them to a metal post in the Repair Bay but that softy
Doctor Malloy insisted they go to the brig.”
“Hmm. Let’s go and see them. Perhaps they might know something about the Pen
dant.”
“Where’s Queer Ears?” Butch asked.
“He’s still on--” began the Captain. “Mr Sprock is a prisoner on Dulcodaz. H
e’s being held by an enemy of the Federation called Kharg. I have to get that da
mn Pendant back before he’ll free him. Right, let’s go and see the prisoners and
you,” he ordered, pointing at Ricky, “come with us.”
PART TWO
“So remember,” Dennis said to Otto as they languished in the brig, “we are K
lingers. Fierce, proud warriors. The most feared in the Universe. So even if the
y torture us we say nothing. Nothing. Got it?”
Otto glanced at Dennis with his big sad eyes and nodded miserably. He clutch
ed his bucket and spade closer for comfort. “No talk,” he agreed.
“Even if they pull our toenails off we say nothing,” continued Dennis.
Otto winced and curled up his toes inside his boots.
“We don’t give anything away,” Dennis went on. “Zero. The pride of the Kling
er warrior race is at stake. Listen! Here they come. Remember – not a word.”
A few moments later the brig door was unlocked. It swished open and the Capt
ain and the others walked in.
“Here they are, Captain,” Butch said, sneering at the prisoners. “The Klinge
r scum we captured.”
 “Afternoon gents!” Dennis said, a friendly smile on his ugly, lumpy face. “A
nything we can do for you? Anything we can help you with? Any secrets you want t
o know?”
“No talk,” Otto grunted, pulling at his arm. “No talk.”
“Shut up,” said Dennis, pushing him away. “One of our Mother Ships is just o
utside your scanner range,” he continued. “How’s that for starters?”
“A Klinger Mother Ship?” said the Captain, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s right,” agreed Dennis. “I’ll give you its exact location if you want
plus details of what weapons we have, how many crew are on board, what our miss
ion is. Anything you want to know, just ask. You never learn if you never ask, t
hat’s what I always say!”
“Who’s in command of the Mother Ship?” the Captain asked.
“General Draygo,” Dennis answered, pulling a face. “Real bastard isn’t he, O
tto?”
“Bastard,” agreed Otto. “No let me go seaside.”
“Hey Otto my man!” Ricky drawled, strolling over. “How’s it going?”
“Ricky!” grunted Otto, his thick features brightening as he recognised him.
“Do you two know each other?” the Captain asked, surprised.
“Sure,” replied Ricky, a friendly arm round Otto’s stocky shoulders. “I trad
ed the Pendant with him.”
“The Pendant!?” Captain Kork said quickly. “Does he still--”
“I can also give you details of where all the Klinger battle fleets are just
now,” cut in Dennis.
“Later,” said the Captain, waving him away. “Where is the Pendant now?” he a
sked Otto.
Otto glared at him from beneath his thick eyebrows. “No tell,” he muttered,
drawing back and hugging his bucket and spade tighter.
Butch Bradley swaggered forward. “Let’s torture the bastard,” he suggested.
“Give me half an hour with him and he’ll sing like a bird. Reminds me of the tim
e we captured one of those--”
“Spare us the details, Mr Bradley,” the Captain interrupted.
“Would information about the new Klinger ship-to-ship codes be any use to yo
u gentlemen?” Dennis asked helpfully. “Or the spies the Klingers have in the Fed
eration?”
Butch took a step closer to him and stared menacingly into his eyes. “Ever b
een tortured?” he growled.
Dennis swallowed and shook his head.
Butch grinned maliciously. “Want to be?”
Dennis shook his head again.
Butch’s grin vanished. “Well shut the hell up or you will be.”
Dennis’ eyes widened and he jumped back, temporarily silenced.
“I’ve got something here you might like, Otto,” Ricky said, slipping a hand
into his jacket. He drew out some glossy postcard-size pictures of naked women a
nd held them up.
Otto dropped his bucket and spade and made a lunge for them. Ricky began bac
king off and Otto followed him, trying to grab the pictures.
“You like these don’t you?” Ricky said, laughing and holding them up.
“Oh yeesss!!” grunted Otto, trying to grab them.
“Want them?”
“Yeesss!!”
“Still got the Pendant?”
“Yeah.”
“Trade you these for it.”
“Yeah! Yeah!”
“Where is it?”
“Cabin.”
“He means it’s in his cabin on the Mother Ship,” supplied Dennis, unable to
keep quiet any longer. “It’s next to mine on ‘D’ level. If you go--”
A glare from Butch silenced him.
“So the Pendant’s aboard the Klinger Mother Ship in Otto’s cabin,” mused the
 Captain. “How do we get it back?”
“I could get it back for you!” Dennis piped up. “Be no trouble.”
“And I could go with him,” volunteered Ricky. “Since it was me who gave the
damn thing away.”
The Captain leaned against the wall and considered the proposal. “You might
get on to the Mother Ship,” he said, “but how would you get back?”
“Since we’re supposed to be on a suicide mission,” Dennis said, keeping a wa
tchful eye on Butch, “Draygo said he was putting us down the rubbish chute if we
came back – is that any help to you?”
Captain Kork stroked his chin as a plan began to take shape in his mind. “It
might just work,” he said eventually, glancing at Ricky and Otto who were almos
t the same height. He pointed at Otto. “Get him out of his uniform,” he ordered.
Otto was drooling over the photos Ricky had given him and put up no resistan
ce as Butch took his uniform, leaving him in his bright yellow underwear.
The Captain flicked on the wall intercom. “Captain to bridge,” he said into
it. “Is Simon there?”
Moments later the ship’s Beautician, Simon, answered. “Ye-es my Captain?”
“We’re going to need your help,” the Captain told him. “Could you make Ricky
look like a Klinger?”
“A Klinger!?” Simon’s effeminate voice asked. “You mean all that bushy eyebr
ows and lumps on the face stuff?”
“That’s right.”
“Hmmm. I think so.”
“I could do a lobotomy on him,” Doctor Malloy piped up. “Make him more like
the real thing.”
The Captain smiled. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Doctor,” he repli
ed. “He’s half-way there already.”
Ricky laughed and slapped Dennis on the shoulder. “Let’s go, fellow Klinger
warrior,” he said. “I think big brother has a job for us.”
PART THREE
Ricky and Dennis were waiting on the Transporter Platform to be beamed acros
s to the Klinger Mother Ship. Ricky was wearing Otto’s uniform and after some ma
ke-up work by Simon which included a high false forehead and a few lumps and bum
ps stuck on to his face, he looked a passable Klinger. He was only a little tall
er than Otto which helped as did his long hair which had been dyed black to comp
lete the disguise.
“Ready?” he asked Dennis.
Dennis grinned and gave him the thumbs up.
Ricky nodded to Captain Kork who had temporarily put himself in charge of th
e Transporter Platform and was sitting beside Lieutenant Youhoor. Slowly he slid
both Transporter levers forward and Ricky and Dennis shimmered and vanished. So
on afterwards they materialised aboard the Mother Ship.
A surprised General Draygo swivelled round in his chair to see who was arriv
ing. “What the hell are you two doing back!?” he roared, seeing who it was.
His crack suicide squad shuffled uneasily, Ricky/Otto nervously clutching hi
s bucket and spade.
“Captain Kork wasn’t there,” Dennis told him.
Draygo’s thick brow furrowed. “He wasn’t there? Where was he?”
“On Dulcodaz,” Dennis told him.
“Why?”
“Kharg’s got him,”
“Kharg!” Draygo exclaimed and stood up. “So he’s back? What the hell’s he up
to this time?”
Kharg and the Klingers were old friends/enemies. Their paths had crossed man
y times in the past, their relationship dependant on whether they were helping w
ith or hindering each others plans.
Pondering what he might be up to Draygo started pacing round the bridge, han
ds clasped behind his back, thick chin resting on his chest.
 Seeing their opportunity Ricky nudged Dennis and they stepped off the Transp
orter Platform and began edging their way over to the bridge door.
They almost made it. Just as the door was about to swish open Draygo beckone
d to a Sergeant.
“Put those two down the rubbish chute,” he ordered casually, jerking a
thumb at them.
The Sergeant grinned and saluted. “Yes sir,” he said. “Be my pleasure.” He d
rew his laser pistol then marched over to Ricky and Dennis and escorted them out
.
PART FOUR
“Ever wonder where we all came from? Where we’re all going? What the purpose
of it all is?” the Captain asked Lieutenant Youhoor.
They were sitting at Youhoor’s console waiting for Ricky’s signal so he and
Dennis could be beamed back.
The Captain glanced over at the observation screen. “All those planets and a
tmospheres and suns and moons,” he went on. “There must have been some planning
behind all that.”
“Yes Captain,” agreed Youhoor, suppressing a yawn. She had heard monologues
like this from the Captain before and they usually had the same effect on her.
“So if you accept that there’s planning then that implies an intelligent min
d,” he went on. “Something far superior to ourselves.”
Youhoor felt her eyelids getting heavier.
“A mind so far beyond our comprehension that even our most intelligent, most
advanced people would be like retarded flies compared to it.”
Youhoor closed her eyes for a few seconds then caught herself before she doz
ed off.
“But why?” went on the Captain, oblivious to the effect he was having on her
. “Why was it all created in the first place? What direction does this vastly su
perior mind want us to take? How do we know we’re heading the right way?”
Lieutenant Youhoor fought gamely to keep her eyes open but the narcotic effe
ct of the Captain’s soliloquy combined with the cosines of the bridge were too m
uch for her and eventually she gave up the struggle and surrendered to the warm
blackness.
PART FIVE
“Want my teddy!” grunted Ricky in a passable Otto voice.
The Sergeant sniggered. “I wouldn’t worry about your teddy, old son,” he sai
d. “You’re going down the rubbish chute. As soon as you’re out the ship you’re s
pace dust.”
“Want teddy,” Ricky grunted stubbornly and halted.
“Oh come on,” the Sergeant snapped, trying to pull him along the corridor.
Ricky wouldn’t budge.
“We might as well get it,” Dennis suggested. “It’ll only take a couple of mi
nutes. Otherwise you’ll have to laser him right here.”
“Oh all right!” snapped the Sergeant, tired of trying to budge Ricky. “Let’s
go.”
The trio changed direction and made their way down to Otto’s cabin. When the
y entered, Dennis rushed over to Otto’s bunk to pick up the teddy, clumsily knoc
king over a table and distracting the Sergeant. This gave Ricky time to open a d
rawer, take out the Pendant and pocket it.
“Okay out!” ordered the Sergeant, shoving Dennis and a teddy-cuddling Ricky
into the corridor.
They made their way back up to the rubbish chute and the Sergeant opened the
hatch.
“After you,” he said, grinning.
Dennis, Ricky and teddy climbed in and the Sergeant secured the hatch, wavin
g to them through the thick glass.
 “Bye,” he mouthed.
“Bye,” mouthed Ricky, waving one of teddy’s paws at him.
The Sergeant shook his head and pressed a wall button. An airtight hatch ins
ide the long rubbish chute opened and they started to slide down.
Ricky grinned and brought out his Transceiver. “Okay big brother,” he said i
nto it, “beam us back.”
PART SIX
“When you really think about it deeply, it changes you,” big brother was say
ing.
Lieutenant Youhoor had dozed off. So had half the bridge crew. The rest were
listening in a hypnotic stupor to the Captain’s monologue so no-one heard Ricky
’s message.
“Yes it changes you,” the Captain went on. “I mean once you acknowledge the
fact that there is a superior Force you say to yourself--”
“Beam us back,” Ricky repeated.
“…beam us back. Yes beam us back,” the Captain droned on. “We’re tired of al
l this. And we’re curious. Damned curious. We want to meet You. We want You to--
”
“Bring us back!” Ricky pleaded as he and Dennis hurtled down the rubbish chu
te.
“…bring us back. Yes we want You to bring us back,” agreed the Captain, nodd
ing. “We want to meet You. To be with You. So if it means--”
“We’re going to die!” Ricky yelled.
“…we’re going to die, that’s okay with us. After all what is death anyway? A
brief moment when one door closes and another opens. So why be afraid?”
That was when Lieutenant Youhoor began to slide off the edge of her chair. “
Uh?” she muttered, catching herself at the last moment. She came to and rubbed h
er eyes. Still half-asleep she caught sight of the flashing light on her console
. “Shit!” she said and pulled back the Transporter levers.
“Aaarrrggghhh!!!” yelled Ricky and Dennis in unison as they shot out the end
of the rubbish chute.
Seconds before they fulfilled the Sergeant’s predictions and became space du
st they shimmered and disappeared. Moments later they materialized on the Orion.
“So death shouldn’t really frighten us,” the Captain droned on, winding up h
is speech and still unaware of what had happened. “We should just look upon it a
s a crossing, nothing more.”
Lieutenant Youhoor nudged him and pointed to the Platform.
“Shit, that was pretty fine,” Ricky said to him as he stepped off.
“Oh it was nothing,” the Captain replied modestly. “Just my usual thoughts.
Did you get the Pendant?”
Ricky removed it from his pocket and tossed it over to him.
The Captain examined the Pendant and after satisfying himself that it was th
e one which the old man had given him on Vargas he flicked open his Transceiver
and contacted Kharg. “I have the Pendant,” he told him.
“Very good,” Kharg rasped. “Come down.”
The Captain hesitated. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll set us free aft
erwards?” he asked.
“Guarantee?” hissed Kharg. “You’re in no position to demand guarantees. I ha
ve the Bulcan. Bring the Pendant down now or he dies.”
“He’s right, sir,” said Youhoor. “You don’t have much choice.”
The Captain sighed. “Okay I’m beaming down,” he told Kharg and closed his Tr
ansceiver.
He stepped on to the Transporter Platform and nodded to Youhoor. She pushed
the lever forward on her console and a few seconds later the Captain was back in
Kharg’s room on Dulcodaz.
“So you have it!” Kharg rasped, his yellow eyes glittering as he saw the Pen
dant.
“Free Mr Sprock and it’s yours,” the Captain said, holding it up.
 Kharg turned and flicked a finger at the chair where Sprock was held prisone
r. Immediately the metal bands round his wrists sprang apart then disappeared in
to the wood.
“Thank you, Jim,” Sprock said, standing up and massaging his wrists.
“The Pendant!” hissed Kharg impatiently.
The Captain handed it to him and Kharg drifted over to a light and examined
it closely.
“At last I have it!” he hissed triumphantly, turning it over and over with h
is long bony fingers.
Unknown to him the same eyes as before were once again watching from the tin
y peephole in the ceiling.
The Captain flicked open his Transceiver. “Get ready to beam us up, Lieutena
nt,” he instructed.
Kharg glanced over at him. “Fool!” he rasped. He raised a finger and a thin
blue beam shot out and zapped into the Transceiver, shattering it. He pointed at
the Captain’s wrist and another beam shot out and shattered his Transporter Bra
celet.
Sensing it was useless to resist, Sprock froze and his Bracelet received the
same treatment.
As the two of them cradled their bruised wrists Kharg drifted over to the ar
ched doorway. He turned, closed his eyes and extended all his fingers at the sto
ne floor around them.
“Oh shit!” muttered Giraffe, hanging on to his top hat and rushing over to t
he shelter of the doorway.
Suddenly there was an ominous rumbling sound from under the floor and it sta
rted to shake. The rumbling grew louder and the Captain and Mr Sprock were knock
ed off their feet as the floor began bucking and heaving. A crack appeared in it
and grew wider, leaving a yawning chasm between them and Kharg.
“Quickly, over here, Sprock!” the Captain shouted as they scrambled to their
feet.
Before Sprock could move the floor rumbled and cracked again. Another wide g
ap appeared and they were separated. Large jagged sections of the floor began to
fall away taking with them consoles and monitors and the pyramid of glowing cub
es. Everything crashed down into the depths throwing up clouds of choking, blind
ing dust.
The rumbling and cracking stopped as quickly as it had begun and when the du
st had cleared the Captain and Mr Sprock were left standing on two narrow pillar
s, all the rest of the floor having fallen away.
Kharg looked over at then from the arched doorway. “You’re both free to go,”
he rasped and his harsh laughter echoed round the cavernous room. He turned and
pressed a wall button and the arched door slid up. “Come Giraffe,” he commanded
, drifting through.
Giraffe took a small, careful step closer to the edge of the chasm and peere
d down. He whistled appreciatively and shook his head. “Wow!” he said. “That’s d
efinitely the best special effects yet!” He glanced over at the Captain and Mr S
prock, grinned at them and tipped his hat. “Bye gents,” he said then turned and
ambled after his master as the arched door slid shut.