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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Feb 26, 2006 15:46:26 GMT -5
RO-MAN!
Sorry.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Feb 26, 2006 15:48:09 GMT -5
On the Heart of Gold, Frodo was explaining his situation to the – well, ‘crew’, but I use that term in the loosest sense of the word.
“… so the Star Wars Fanverse seems to be going to any lengths to keep themselves at the top of the NERD fanlists,” he said, “and it, erm, well, it doesn’t seem very fair.”
“Certainly doesn’t,” said Arthur in outrage – the British place great importance on being fair.
“Life-” began Marvin, but Zaphod interrupted,
“MARVIN! We don’t need to hear your essay on how life isn’t fair at this time.”
“Why would I bother to write an essay? No-one would read it,” said Marvin hopelessly.
“What did you say about this elf, Figwit?” said Trillian loudly.
“As far as I know, he’s still stuck on the Death Star. Any chance we could – I don’t know – rescue him, or something?”
“All right!” cheered Zaphod, “Old-fashioned Hero-rescue! Can I wear a cape?”
Ford wordlessly handed him a towel.
“Zaphod,” said Trillian nervously – as he was now delightedly knotting it around his neck – “I’m guessing that this Death Star is well defended…”
“Yuh?” said Zaphod, not really listening, trying to fasten the towel so that it didn’t strangle him.
“VERY well defended,” agreed Frodo, “In fact, I grabbed a pamphlet from the Shuttle – they have many mounted gun turrets, a fleet of TIE fighters defending it, not to mention a Great Big Green Laser™. In fact, they claim ‘All attempts to destroy the Death Star will result in 100% Rebel Death, or your money back!’
“Mmm?” said Zaphod – he had now loosened the towel adequately so that he could breathe, but his blood supply was still slightly obstructed.
“You could die,” said Trillian simply.
“You WOULD die,” said Arthur, even more simply.
“I really don’t see where you’re going with this,” said Zaphod. Before any of them could try to get it even simpler (“ZAPHOD – YOU. WILL. DIE.” perhaps) Zaphod finally succeeded in tying without obstructing any vital tubes in his neck, and with a whoop vaulted over the back of the sofa and running madly around the ship with his arms outstretched.
Everyone sat in silence watching him for a long moment – it was a strangely fascinating sight. Finally, Trillian broke the silence.
“Perhaps we could use the ship’s Improbability Drive to enter the exact place where he’s being held…”
“Except we don’t know the exact place he’s being held,” pointed out Frodo, “And we can’t exactly leave this ship parked in the middle of a hallway while we go round looking for him.”
“We could use it to deactivate the Death Star’s defences, perhaps?” suggested Ford, “To produce a device which emits the exact frequency needed to shut down all lasers and guns and TIE fighters.”
“But still, how are we going to get on board to get Figwit?” said Trillian, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not the most Rescue-Savvy bunch.”
It was at this moment that Zaphod charged past them whooping and yelling “SUPER ZAPHOD!” It was another long moment before anyone could speak again.
“We need professionals,” said Trillian simply, “Professionals who are used to doing any kind of job, as long as their paid…”
“And aren’t different enough to the plot to be noticed,” pointed out Ford.
“We’re doomed,” moaned Marvin.
“No we’re not!” said Arthur optimistically, “There must be lots of Fanverses out there with crews like that.”
“Who said I was talking about your mission?” said Marvin.
“What about the Star Trek crew?” suggested Arthur.
“Too clichéd,” said Trillian, shaking her head, “The Star Wars Fanverse would detect them a mile off.”
“So it’s got to be a small Fanverse too,” said Frodo, shaking his head, “That narrows it down slightly, doesn’t it?”
“None come to mind,” said Ford, “Perhaps the computer-”
“Hi there!” said Eddie the computer cheerily. Marvin shuddered.
“Computer?” said Trillian, “Can you run a Fanverse search for a self-sustaining ship, mercenary crew, known for taking any job and getting it done-”
“But still being nice people,” cut in Frodo.
“-but still being nice people, not very well-known, er, I think that’s it… oh, and those who might be willing to ruin Star Wars… but that’s not a necessity-”
“Done,” said Eddie immediately.
They blinked. “That was quick,” said Trillian, “What’s the Fanverse?”
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Feb 26, 2006 15:48:37 GMT -5
“Firefly!”
Kaylee looked from the engine as Captain Mal came in. He didn’t look happy. But that was nothing new.
“Kaylee, this ship is a Firefly. Tell me, what does a firefly do?”
Kaylee shrugged. “Flies around campfires, I guess. Ain’t seen one myself.”
“And they glow. So our ship is supposed to glow too, Kaylee, but it ain’t doing that. So the engine must be broken. Care to tell me why?”
Kaylee sighed. “See this?” she said, waving a threateningly-heaving looking piece of metal at him, “Know what this is?”
“Hazarding a guess, some new toy of Jayne’s?”
“This is a very important bit of the engine. It broke about a month ago.”
“You should’ve mentioned it.”
“I did. Twenty-eight times. And I told you there was a problem with it about once a week for four months before that.”
“Tell me louder next time. So why’s it a problem now?”
“Because-” Kaylee hefted up an even more threateningly-heavy looking piece of metal, “-this just broke too.”
“Let me guess,” said Mal, “Another very important bit?”
“You got it. Engine can survive without one of these cos one can do both’s jobs, just not very well – but without both of them – we ain’t glowing.”
Mal stared. “Engine doesn’t work,” supplied Kaylee, “We don’t move.”
“I got that. Can you fix it?”
“Might be able to, but it’d take a couple of weeks… We really need the replacement parts.”
“Which we don’t have.”
“Never do.”
Mal sighed. “Right – you get to trying to fix it, I’ll sort something out…”
He turned and headed up the corridor towards the bridge. As he passed through the dining area, he saw River sitting at the table, drawing something.
“Firefly’s not glowing,” she said.
“I’d noticed,” said Mal. He carried on through the ship up to the bridge, where the pilot Wash was, as ever, hard at work and completely focussed on his task.
“You tried to kill me,” a triceratops was proclaiming, “but you failed!”
“Har har! A mistake I will not make twice!” a tyrannosaurus rex roared back, “Now DIE!”
“Much as I hate to interrupt the thrilling adventures of the dinosaurs…” said Mal loudly – Wash jumped about a mile and model dinosaurs flew everywhere – “-we’ve got a problem.”
“I’m hoping it’s something to do with the fact the engine isn’t working, cos that seems enough to be getting along with for now,” said Wash, setting dinosaurs back in place like nothing had happened, “Let me guess – some incredibly important part has broken?”
“Two, actually.”
“Ah. And we don’t have replacements?”
“Not so much.”
“Ah.” Wash paused. “So what are you doing up here?”
“Cos I’m feeling scared and need a hug.”
“Ask Zoe. Or Jayne, I’m sure he could be cuddly.”
“I need you to send out a signal. Contact anyone nearby offering a trade for those two parts.”
“Sure,” said Wash, and started pressing various buttons, “But we don’t have anything to trade.”
“And the longer they don’t know that the better.” Mal turned to leave, when there was a strange bleeping sound from the controls. He didn’t turn back, but said slowly, “Wash, tell me that’s a happy beep.”
“Err… not exactly sure, Captain,” said Wash, frowning and pressing even more buttons, “It’s a signal, but I’ve never seen the frequency before… it seems to be…” He suddenly swore in Chinese. “Mal, I think it’s coming over the FandomNet.”
Mal did turn round then. “The FandomNet?”
“Uh-huh.” Wash span round in his chair to face him. “It’s coming from another Fanverse.”
Mal, for one of the first times in his life, was bewildered. “Why on earth would someone contact a lowly ex-TV show Fanverse like us?...”
“We do have a movie now.”
“Yes, but still…” Mal shook himself. “Is it the NERD?”
“No… it’s another Fanverse. ‘Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.’”
Mal nodded, and hit the ship’s com. “Zoe, come up to the bridge.” He released it and stared the blinking message light on the counter. “What could they want?...”
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Feb 26, 2006 15:52:32 GMT -5
On the Heart of Gold, they waited for the crew of the Firefly to respond. “Are you sure they’re up to it?” said Frodo uncertainly, “I’ve never heard of them…”
“That’s why they’re perfect,” insisted Trillian, “They’re not a big fandom, so they won’t be recognized on the Death Star. But they’re still sci-fi, so they won’t cause a massive anomaly.”
“Can they be trusted though?”
“If you pay them.”
The screen suddenly flickered into life, revealing Mal, and behind him, Zoe, and behind them, wandering around absent-mindedly, River.
“Is this the, uh, Heart of Gold?” asked Mal uncertainly. Arthur could hardly blame him – his crew looked like a thoroughly ordinary bunch, while his own crew included one man still wearing a towel superhero cloak, a hobbit and a manically depressed robot.
“Yes,” replied Trillian, “And is this the Serenity? Are you Captain Malcolm Reynolds?”
“Was last time I checked.”
“Isn’t the Heart of Gold a sleeperhouse?” came a voice from offscreen.
“Jayne, you’re talking again,” said Mal irritably.
“Yes, where Mal met that prostitute friend of Inara’s and they did the sex,” said another voice offscreen.
“WASH. Don’t make me take your dinosaurs.”
They heard the man called Wash say something in Chinese, which may have been a suggestion as to where he’d like to put his dinosaurs. Mal ignored him and said, “Now why is a big Fanverse like you contacting a lowlife TV show like us?”
“That’s a bit harsh,” they heard Simon say, “I prefer ‘reputationally challenged’.”
“We’ve got a job for you,” said Trillian.
The entire crew suddenly fell silent, and their eyes brightened. “Job?” said Mal, “As in, paying job?”
“Of course.”
“Naked beach, here we come!” said Wash gleefully.
“Is it illegal?” asked Mal.
“Well, I’m guessing some people won’t be too happy about it, but technically they started it, so…”
“Fair enough. What is it?”
Trillian told him. When she finished, the crew of Serenity were silent once more. They waited.
“Let me get this straight,” said Mal finally, “You want us to waltz onto the Death Star, which has lots of big guns and tractor beams and other such unpleasantries – navigate the corridors, which are packed with guards with more guns - and rescue an elf, who you don’t know the location of?”
“That’s about it,” said Trillian.
“Oh,” said Mal.
There was another silence.
“It had better be a BIG naked beach,” said Wash finally.
Kaylee appeared behind Mal. “Cap’n, it means we could get those parts we need…”
“And some more medical supplies,” said Simon, “Since that bank job, we’re running a bit short.”
“I didn’t ask for everyone to get shot,” said Mal defensively.
“No, it just happens a lot anyway.”
“You won’t meet any trouble on the way in,” cut in Trillian, “Our ship can deactivate their outer defences – it’s just the getting out that’ll be the problem…”
“And not getting dead.”
“Well, that too.”
Mal looked thoughtful. “We’ll have to think about it,” he said finally, and shut off the communication channel.
“I’m not sure about this,” said Zoe immediately, “That Death Star doesn’t sound very friendly.”
“Yeah, the word ‘Death’ is a bit of a heads-up,” said Wash.
“I’ve heard about Star Wars…” said Simon slowly.
“Everyone’s heard about Star Wars,” snapped Mal, “I think kids are born with the inherited knowledge that Darth Vader is Luke’s father.”
“No,” said Simon, “I learnt about it at school – Ancient Culture of Earth-That-Was. It was a building block of their sci-fi and film, and the birthplace of proper special effects…”
“Fun as this little lesson from Doctor Genius is, shouldn’t we be getting guns or getting the hell out of here?” interrupted Jayne.
“My point is,” said Simon loudly, “that Star Wars properly began the idea of a movie plot formula – properly developed a structure for movie Fanverses. You see, before Star Wars, book Fanverses were predominant because their stories were set down on paper, irrefutable and strengthened by the many people reading them, and film Fanverses were unstable... But when movies started getting the main audience, people seeing them repeatedly and getting as involved in the worlds as if they were more than creations on celluloid – well, they took over-”
Jayne yawned loudly.
“Oh right. Point. My point IS that it was a trailblazer, and because of that, there were mistakes – plot holes. Hundreds of plot holes feed into the Star Wars universe at various points. And we might be able to navigate them to our advantage.”
There was a silence.
“That’s a fair idea,” said Mal, “But do you know what any of these plot holes ARE?”
“No, I-”
“C-3PO clearly spent a large amount of time on the Lars’ farm because Cliegg bought Shmi and then freed her and married her before she was kidnapped by the Tusken Raiders which happened a month before Anakin even turned up and no other droids were seen suggesting they had minimal staff so C-3PO would have to carry out a large amount of tasks and would have made a sufficient impression for him to remember C-3PO when he saw him again only twenty-one years later yet Owen makes no sign of remembering whatsoever,” said River in an uninterested voice, gazing absently into the distance, “Though admittedly there are other protocol droids which look similar as we see with TC-14 in ‘The Phantom Menace’, though that droid had different vocal patterns so from that evidence we can form an ambiguous hypothesis that each droid has a distinct voice, though of course TC-14 could have been mass produced while C-3PO was made by hand by Anakin, so again the mass produced droids may have all had the same voice, which would explain why TC-14’s voice is marginally more computerized and less emotional compared to the musical tones and marginally effeminate voice of C-3PO…”
The crew stared at her, once more in silence. Serenity hadn’t been so quiet for so long a period of time since all the crew left in the shuttles, leaving Mal with a gun wound. But even then the computer had kept helpfully pointing out that the life support system was broken. This time, even the computer seemed astonished.
“…and then of course there’s the fact that Leia remembers Padme more than Luke despite the fact that Luke was born first, although Obi-Wan was holding beyond the range of a normal infant’s line of sight, so not even he should be able to have the distinct memory of her being beautiful or sad, let alone Leia who only saw her for a few seconds…”
“Wash, contact the brunette. Tell her we’ll do it,” said Mal, “And you, doc-” he said, turning to Simon, “Try to teach your genius sister the concept of brief, informative bullet points.”
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Post by goblingirl on Feb 26, 2006 15:57:20 GMT -5
SQUUEEEE!! FIREFLY!!! And because it is Firefly, I'll make no comment on you updating at Fanfiction.net first. SQQQQUUUUUEEEEEEE!!!!
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Feb 26, 2006 16:07:42 GMT -5
I haven't put that last bit on fanfiction.net yet.... I still loff this site most ;D
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Post by goblingirl on Feb 26, 2006 16:11:33 GMT -5
Of course! This is the only forum I post on....mainly because I'm too lazy to post on any others.....
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Tiki
Ranger
I'd call you a genius, except I'm in the room.
Posts: 245
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Post by Tiki on Feb 28, 2006 9:06:15 GMT -5
BUAHAHAHA!!!! Plot holes! Yay for updating, Katie, I've been waiting a dreadfully long time! Good stuff, insanity...
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Post by goblingirl on Feb 28, 2006 11:47:37 GMT -5
Indeed yes.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Feb 28, 2006 15:07:33 GMT -5
Whee! I have even more! Goooood plot bunnies.
The Death Star was drifting through space, unknowing of its imminent doom being plotted several Fanverses away. Although, even if the Emperor did know it was about to be attacked by a ship called Serenity – a tiny ship with no Jedi on board and no weapons to speak of – somehow I don’t think he would be overly perturbed.
He should have been.
For one thing, his plans in other Fanverses weren’t going exactly to plan. For another, the ship Serenity had a score to settle. And for yet another, just to make his day complete, Figwit wasn’t planning on sitting around in his cell forever.
After Sauron captured so many of the elves to turn them into orcs, elves were taught how to escape from things from a young age. And they were training to escape from Barad-dur. The Death Star Detention Level was nothing in comparison.
So shortly after he’d been placed there by guards, just long enough for them to get complacent, Figwit yawned, broke the lock, opened the door and strolled out past the guards, waving and smiling pleasantly. Before they could say anything, he stepped into the lift and closed the doors behind him.
A few minutes later, it occurred to the guards that perhaps that wasn’t supposed to happen. But the pleasant smile of an elf can be a very distracting thing.
Figwit hummed absently as the lift shot downwards. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, but this was a big space station – he was certain he could find somewhere to do some suitable damage.
The lift stopped, and he stepped out. Some stormtroopers headed towards him, but another pleasant smile baffled them long enough for him to dart away around a corner.
He strolled through the corridors, slightly disappointed by the lack of resistance. If this were Barad-dur, he’d have been fighting off thousands of orcs with his little finger by now. The Star Wars Fanverse just didn’t have the same standards.
He passed by a door which said ‘ARMOURY’. A few moments later he stopped, backtracked, and opened the door.
His eyes widened. “Oooh,” he said.
A few minutes later, he was strolling through the corridors again, this time adorned with blasters of increasing size and menace. He found he attracted even less strange looks this way, because most people were avoiding eye contact.
Still, this place was pretty huge. Shouldn’t there be a map somewhere? “Excuse me,” he said, grabbing the arm of the nearest officer, “I’m supposed to be reporting for guard duty, where should I go?”
“What guard duty?” asked the officer.
“Erm. The most important kind. You know, guarding a place or, um, person of great importance.”
The officer looked stonily at him. Figwit rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know, I’m terrible at lying. Let me try again.” He pulled out one of the large blasters, so huge and angry-looking that it seemed impossible it could actually fire anything. “My friend here has guard duty. Where should it go?”
The colour swiftly left the officer’s face and ran for cover. “Erm,” said the officer, keeping an admirable tone of calm, “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know! Somewhere important!”
“Emperor’s throne room is just down the corridor and then turn right and left and then third door on your left,” said the officer very quickly, not taking his eyes off the gun, “Can I go now?”
“Hmm? Oh, sure. Thank you for your assistance.” Figwit set off again, and allowed a smile to spread across his face at the sound of fleeing feet behind him. Blasters were fun.
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Post by goblingirl on Feb 28, 2006 15:51:26 GMT -5
Very fun. *hugs blasters*
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Mar 2, 2006 13:19:04 GMT -5
All the plot threads of Fandom Wars are confusing me now. I need to try to sort them out.
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Post by goblingirl on Mar 2, 2006 13:19:47 GMT -5
Have to admit, I go slightly cross-eyed when re-reading.
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Post by Hobbit-eyes on Mar 2, 2006 13:21:51 GMT -5
I tried sorting it out with the Galadriel-looking-in-the-Mirror-of-Exposition, but it's got all complicated again... especially since I have a lot to get started yet...
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Tiki
Ranger
I'd call you a genius, except I'm in the room.
Posts: 245
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Post by Tiki on Mar 2, 2006 13:21:53 GMT -5
Yayness for Blasterness...gotta love those beasts. Hehe, good update...need more!
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