Top Star Two (B7 Top Gear crossover, Gen)
Sep. 30th, 2009 03:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feng_shui_houseThose of you with long memories may recall Top Star , my B7/ Top Gear crossover. Well, today I went back to it, and here is a continuation, which is much less Top Gear & hopefully more B7:
Top Star Two
I have a bit more plot in mind, but am soooo sleeeepy... I need a nap. Pool guy hasn't called. I don't really expect he'll come by today or tomorrow as he said. My prize water filter came, and it looks remarkably simple- it's a canister not much larger than a thermos that stands on the counter by the sink and hooks up to the faucet. I may set it up in a few days, when brain function is restored. I cut two old,cheap lace tablecloths in half lengthwise and sewed them into curtains for the fence to screen the pool equipment & used plastic lace to attach them to the fence with quick to remove loops. All it needs now is wood stain. I don't have any, I don't think.
I hope you like this bit of story & I shall try to resume it after my nap.
EDIT: I napped (and had another weird dream, Avon, 4 dogs, and the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari...mmmm) and finished this story.
"It's my ship," James said.
Richard and Jeremy exchanged glances.
"And my bikkies."
Jeremy and Richard looked at the airlock.
"And besides, neither of you knows how to run the Princess."
"James, you've had it set to circle aimlessly on auto-pilot since we boarded," Jeremy pointed out.
"The registration's in my name. What if we're pulled over and someone else is driving?"
"There he has a point," Richard said. "I, for one, don't want to have to explain about the mining satellite."
"Or the fleet of Andromedan tourists," Jeremy agreed.
**************************
"How much farther is it?" Richard shouted over the comm.
"Not far," James replied from the flight deck, around a mouthful of bikkie. "I can see the petrol sign."
"Thank God," Jeremy muttered as he adjusted the propulsion jet of his space suit. "My shoulder's about to give out."
"Bigger isn't always better," Richard panted as he helped Jeremy push the Space Princess down the gravity gradient towards the Free Trader station.
**************************
"NO, NO, You idiot! NOT THAT WAY!" Jeremy flinched as the Space Princess nosed directly for the middle of the station. He grabbed a fin and pulled back. "STOP!"
Richard jetted out of the way, and watched as a safety net engulfed the ship and tangled Jeremy in it as well. "I'll meet you at the snack bar," he shouted before heading for the small personnel airlock to one side.
"I'M GOING TO KILL MAY!"
James said, "Sorry about that. The brakes failed."
"What rotten timing," Richard remarked as he neared the airlock.
"Oh, it went out a few parsecs back."
"WITH A SPANNER! A LARGE, RUSTY SPANNER!"
**************************
Richard had an ale nicely warmed up and waiting, when Jeremy entered the snack bar. "I hope you didn't leave May to negotiate for the fuel."
"No, I handled that. " Jeremy sat down and drank deeply. "They're transferring chocolate biscuits now to pay for it."
"Good." Richard looked at Jeremy. "I think we ought to work on the ship."
"No one's paying us," Jeremy said gloomily.
"It needs a touch... a bit of brightening up."
Jeremy looked at Richard. "They have pink paint?"
Richard grinned.
**************************
The front of the Space Princess read in pink paint, "Space Rats are Slowboats". "Travis is a chav" spread over the left side, and "Amagons are berks" occupied the right.
"You know, Travis really is a chav, so does that count as an insult?" Richard asked.
"Would you rather I put 'Spaceball is for gits'?"
Richard winced. "No, no, I don't want to have dogs sicced on me at the fueling station again, thank you."
**************************
The Princess had a large appetite, so as she refueled James joined the two of them to sit around a view port watching other ships arrive.
"That's a Lanza, that is." Richard pointed with his ale-holding hand.
"No, it's not. The 3054 Lanza is really a Volka engine inside a Saab frame with the Lanza chassis tacked on." Jeremy munched on a pretzel. "That one's been modified, though."
"I see the turning radius is improved." James nodded.
"The flames on the side aren't standard," Richard noted. "At least, not real ones."
The Lanza/Volka/Saab beat out an equally jazzed-up Fearraro/Ford Prefect to a parking slot. Both pilots emerged onto the concourse at about the same time, and began to argue.
"My money's on the blonde," Richard said.
James said, "You always did like yellow."
Richard scowled. "Stop bringing up Oliver, you know how I felt about him."
"Well, it was your fault leaving it parked in Earth orbit with Captain Slowmad on the loose," Jeremy remarked.
Richard sulked.
"Anyway, the tall, curly-headed chap is bound to..." Jeremy winced as the blonde's knee made strategic contact and the tall man gave a pained squeak. "That had to hurt."
"Here's another ship. Wanderer class-planet hopper, I should say," Richard said.
"Hard to tell under all the patches." Jeremy peered at it through the viewport. "It looks like one of our worse purchases."
"Here comes the pilot, now." James pulled back as an unshaven, middle-aged, middle-height, man in black leather strode onto the concourse, stepping over the tall man and brushing past the blonde woman. Both of them started up and followed him, grabbing at his arms and talking together.
He ignored them, and splayed his hands down on the table in front of Jeremy. "You're the leader here."
"Ah." James and Richard shrank down in their seats. Jeremy straightened and tried to look arrogant. The man in black leather gazed at him impassively. Jeremy blinked. "Ah, well, in manner of speaking. What can we do for you?"
"You were last in possession of my ship. I want it back."
"Your ship?"
"The Liberator. Big. Fast. Powerful. And MINE."
"Here, now, Avon, " the blonde woman said, "you only had a third share in her."
Avon glared at the woman. "You sold your third to Blake. And I hope you got your money's worth."
Jenna scowled at Avon. "Not hardly."
"Well, now, that's a pity, but Blake gave ME the ship."
James blinked, "Was it your birthday, then?"
Avon glared at James, and then obviously gave it up as futile when James returned his glare with a gormless smile.
"And then you ruined her," the tall young man put in.
"Shut up, Tarrant," Avon said. "Well?" he addressed Jeremy. "Where is it?"
Jeremy spread his hands. "I haven't the foggiest. Our pet test driver nobbled it, and then he came back and nobbled our second-hand pursuit ship."
Avon went dead still.
Tarrant looked at his face and began talking very rapidly. "Yes, well, I'm sure that between all of us, we can locate it."
"All of us?" Jeremy said.
"Trust me on this," Jenna said, "You don't want to disappoint us." She smiled, and it wasn't much more reassuring than Avon's blank stare.
**************************
"All right, it's not as if we had anything better to do," Jeremy said finally after the conversation degenerated into a three-way discussion with Tarrant, Jenna and Richard boasting about the respective qualities of their ships, Avon and James discussing nano-navigation technology and its relationship to the infinite probability drive which neither of them believed existed, but if it did, then... and Jeremy signing autographs for Top Star fen who burbled on cheerfully, but ignorantly, about vehicles. Jeremy was getting a headache listening to all of them, and possibly being on his sixth nicely warm ale contributed to his abrupt interruption.
"What?" Avon said, looking up from a diagram he'd been drawing in ale.
"I said, let's go find your lost lamb." Jeremy got up. Avon stood up and managed to look him in the eyes without looking shorter than Jeremy.
"How do you do that?" Richard asked, in admiration.
Avon grinned. "Anti-grav lifts."
Richard looked at Avon's boots. "Cobblers."
**************************
"And why do we have to ferry you on the Princess?" Jeremy asked Avon, disgruntled as he was shifted from his comfortable seat on the flight deck to make room for Avon and Avon's boots.
"Point number one," Avon said without looking up from the gadget he was installing in the Princess's nav-comp with James's assistance. "I installed Lo-Jack in Liberator years ago."
"Well, we could track that ourselves," Richard said, uneasily eying Avon's proximity to James.
"Not without Orac, which is MINE. That's point two."
"Possessive little bugger, aren't you?" Jeremy muttered, also noting the way James wasn't shrinking from Avon.
"And point three is that you couldn't break the tour guide programming on the Space Princess. Which I have just done."
The monitor stopped showing scenic FaraWay and gave a view of the exterior of the FreeTrader Station as a barge pulled away.
Reluctantly, Jeremy and Richard exchanged a glance of acknowledgment. Jeremy tried one last argument. "The Princess is dead slow. Why don't you just take her last coordinates from the nav. Comp. and go in your own ship. Or with your friends?"
Avon slid back out from under the console and showed Jeremy his teeth. Jeremy had a momentary vision of a wolverine backing down a bear, that he'd seen in an antique nature guide. Prudently, he moved his throat and himself back out of reach.
"Points four and five. I've already sold my nav-comp Slave and the ship to the Freetraders in exchange for parts to retrofit the Space Princess. And I've salvaged the Star-Drive from Scorpio. We can modify her."
Jeremy brightened. "How hard can it be?"
Richard and James trembled. "DON'T SAY THAT!"
Avon smiled.
**************************
Several weeks later, much to the surprise of Tarrant, Dayna and Soolin (who had stayed on his ship out of sight, eating chocolate bikkies and playing Space Monopoly) the Liberator showed up on their detectors.
Jenna, Vila, and Cally (who had stayed on their ship out of sight, eating chocolate bikkies and playing Space Trivia) were less surprised. They had longer experience and more proof that Avon was a stubborn git.
"STAND AND DELIVER!" James shouted gleefully.
"Er, James, we're not pirates," Richard said. He pointed at the monitor where an image of a man with a black eye-patch glared back at them. "He is."
"Oh. He's not going to ram us amidships is he? That's where the chocolate bikkies are stored."
Avon was ignoring the conversation, staring at the pirate. The pirate was staring at him.
"So, you're the Stig," Avon finally said. "Orac told me, but I couldn't believe it. Not of you."
The pirate glared at Avon. "Do you think I care what you believe of me? I've got a pursuit ship in the hold, and Liberator is recharged. I can blow you...."
"I really wish you would, Roj."
The pirate's mouth closed. Then he smiled. "Permission to board is granted, Kerr."
**************************
The others watched on the monitors with disgust as Blake and Avon gazed into each other's eyes (well, one of Blake's you can't count the one under the eyepatch). Dayna made gagging noises.
"If they're going to start hanging lace curtains on the flight deck, I don't want to know about it," Jenna said, firmly switching her monitor over to the Space Princess.
A moment later, Tarrant followed suit. "Avon's teleported over to the Liberator with Orac, and Blake's taken off at Standard by... well... gone. What do we do now?"
Jeremy looked at everyone, and suddenly smiled. "Well, I happen to have positions open for racing drivers. Jenna would look good in white, and Tarrant in black."
"You have to stay anonymous," Richard said.
Jenna and Tarrant exchanged glances. "Suits us."
"And what about the rest of us?"
Jeremy ate a chocolate bikkie. "Well, if you were willing to crew on board the Princess..."
Vila grinned. "Pass the bikkies."
*The story of how all the crew survived and met each other proves the existence of the Infinite Improbability Drive. But they are embarrassed, so I can't tell you about it.
Top Star Two
I have a bit more plot in mind, but am soooo sleeeepy... I need a nap. Pool guy hasn't called. I don't really expect he'll come by today or tomorrow as he said. My prize water filter came, and it looks remarkably simple- it's a canister not much larger than a thermos that stands on the counter by the sink and hooks up to the faucet. I may set it up in a few days, when brain function is restored. I cut two old,cheap lace tablecloths in half lengthwise and sewed them into curtains for the fence to screen the pool equipment & used plastic lace to attach them to the fence with quick to remove loops. All it needs now is wood stain. I don't have any, I don't think.
I hope you like this bit of story & I shall try to resume it after my nap.
EDIT: I napped (and had another weird dream, Avon, 4 dogs, and the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari...mmmm) and finished this story.
"It's my ship," James said.
Richard and Jeremy exchanged glances.
"And my bikkies."
Jeremy and Richard looked at the airlock.
"And besides, neither of you knows how to run the Princess."
"James, you've had it set to circle aimlessly on auto-pilot since we boarded," Jeremy pointed out.
"The registration's in my name. What if we're pulled over and someone else is driving?"
"There he has a point," Richard said. "I, for one, don't want to have to explain about the mining satellite."
"Or the fleet of Andromedan tourists," Jeremy agreed.
**************************
"How much farther is it?" Richard shouted over the comm.
"Not far," James replied from the flight deck, around a mouthful of bikkie. "I can see the petrol sign."
"Thank God," Jeremy muttered as he adjusted the propulsion jet of his space suit. "My shoulder's about to give out."
"Bigger isn't always better," Richard panted as he helped Jeremy push the Space Princess down the gravity gradient towards the Free Trader station.
**************************
"NO, NO, You idiot! NOT THAT WAY!" Jeremy flinched as the Space Princess nosed directly for the middle of the station. He grabbed a fin and pulled back. "STOP!"
Richard jetted out of the way, and watched as a safety net engulfed the ship and tangled Jeremy in it as well. "I'll meet you at the snack bar," he shouted before heading for the small personnel airlock to one side.
"I'M GOING TO KILL MAY!"
James said, "Sorry about that. The brakes failed."
"What rotten timing," Richard remarked as he neared the airlock.
"Oh, it went out a few parsecs back."
"WITH A SPANNER! A LARGE, RUSTY SPANNER!"
**************************
Richard had an ale nicely warmed up and waiting, when Jeremy entered the snack bar. "I hope you didn't leave May to negotiate for the fuel."
"No, I handled that. " Jeremy sat down and drank deeply. "They're transferring chocolate biscuits now to pay for it."
"Good." Richard looked at Jeremy. "I think we ought to work on the ship."
"No one's paying us," Jeremy said gloomily.
"It needs a touch... a bit of brightening up."
Jeremy looked at Richard. "They have pink paint?"
Richard grinned.
**************************
The front of the Space Princess read in pink paint, "Space Rats are Slowboats". "Travis is a chav" spread over the left side, and "Amagons are berks" occupied the right.
"You know, Travis really is a chav, so does that count as an insult?" Richard asked.
"Would you rather I put 'Spaceball is for gits'?"
Richard winced. "No, no, I don't want to have dogs sicced on me at the fueling station again, thank you."
**************************
The Princess had a large appetite, so as she refueled James joined the two of them to sit around a view port watching other ships arrive.
"That's a Lanza, that is." Richard pointed with his ale-holding hand.
"No, it's not. The 3054 Lanza is really a Volka engine inside a Saab frame with the Lanza chassis tacked on." Jeremy munched on a pretzel. "That one's been modified, though."
"I see the turning radius is improved." James nodded.
"The flames on the side aren't standard," Richard noted. "At least, not real ones."
The Lanza/Volka/Saab beat out an equally jazzed-up Fearraro/Ford Prefect to a parking slot. Both pilots emerged onto the concourse at about the same time, and began to argue.
"My money's on the blonde," Richard said.
James said, "You always did like yellow."
Richard scowled. "Stop bringing up Oliver, you know how I felt about him."
"Well, it was your fault leaving it parked in Earth orbit with Captain Slowmad on the loose," Jeremy remarked.
Richard sulked.
"Anyway, the tall, curly-headed chap is bound to..." Jeremy winced as the blonde's knee made strategic contact and the tall man gave a pained squeak. "That had to hurt."
"Here's another ship. Wanderer class-planet hopper, I should say," Richard said.
"Hard to tell under all the patches." Jeremy peered at it through the viewport. "It looks like one of our worse purchases."
"Here comes the pilot, now." James pulled back as an unshaven, middle-aged, middle-height, man in black leather strode onto the concourse, stepping over the tall man and brushing past the blonde woman. Both of them started up and followed him, grabbing at his arms and talking together.
He ignored them, and splayed his hands down on the table in front of Jeremy. "You're the leader here."
"Ah." James and Richard shrank down in their seats. Jeremy straightened and tried to look arrogant. The man in black leather gazed at him impassively. Jeremy blinked. "Ah, well, in manner of speaking. What can we do for you?"
"You were last in possession of my ship. I want it back."
"Your ship?"
"The Liberator. Big. Fast. Powerful. And MINE."
"Here, now, Avon, " the blonde woman said, "you only had a third share in her."
Avon glared at the woman. "You sold your third to Blake. And I hope you got your money's worth."
Jenna scowled at Avon. "Not hardly."
"Well, now, that's a pity, but Blake gave ME the ship."
James blinked, "Was it your birthday, then?"
Avon glared at James, and then obviously gave it up as futile when James returned his glare with a gormless smile.
"And then you ruined her," the tall young man put in.
"Shut up, Tarrant," Avon said. "Well?" he addressed Jeremy. "Where is it?"
Jeremy spread his hands. "I haven't the foggiest. Our pet test driver nobbled it, and then he came back and nobbled our second-hand pursuit ship."
Avon went dead still.
Tarrant looked at his face and began talking very rapidly. "Yes, well, I'm sure that between all of us, we can locate it."
"All of us?" Jeremy said.
"Trust me on this," Jenna said, "You don't want to disappoint us." She smiled, and it wasn't much more reassuring than Avon's blank stare.
**************************
"All right, it's not as if we had anything better to do," Jeremy said finally after the conversation degenerated into a three-way discussion with Tarrant, Jenna and Richard boasting about the respective qualities of their ships, Avon and James discussing nano-navigation technology and its relationship to the infinite probability drive which neither of them believed existed, but if it did, then... and Jeremy signing autographs for Top Star fen who burbled on cheerfully, but ignorantly, about vehicles. Jeremy was getting a headache listening to all of them, and possibly being on his sixth nicely warm ale contributed to his abrupt interruption.
"What?" Avon said, looking up from a diagram he'd been drawing in ale.
"I said, let's go find your lost lamb." Jeremy got up. Avon stood up and managed to look him in the eyes without looking shorter than Jeremy.
"How do you do that?" Richard asked, in admiration.
Avon grinned. "Anti-grav lifts."
Richard looked at Avon's boots. "Cobblers."
**************************
"And why do we have to ferry you on the Princess?" Jeremy asked Avon, disgruntled as he was shifted from his comfortable seat on the flight deck to make room for Avon and Avon's boots.
"Point number one," Avon said without looking up from the gadget he was installing in the Princess's nav-comp with James's assistance. "I installed Lo-Jack in Liberator years ago."
"Well, we could track that ourselves," Richard said, uneasily eying Avon's proximity to James.
"Not without Orac, which is MINE. That's point two."
"Possessive little bugger, aren't you?" Jeremy muttered, also noting the way James wasn't shrinking from Avon.
"And point three is that you couldn't break the tour guide programming on the Space Princess. Which I have just done."
The monitor stopped showing scenic FaraWay and gave a view of the exterior of the FreeTrader Station as a barge pulled away.
Reluctantly, Jeremy and Richard exchanged a glance of acknowledgment. Jeremy tried one last argument. "The Princess is dead slow. Why don't you just take her last coordinates from the nav. Comp. and go in your own ship. Or with your friends?"
Avon slid back out from under the console and showed Jeremy his teeth. Jeremy had a momentary vision of a wolverine backing down a bear, that he'd seen in an antique nature guide. Prudently, he moved his throat and himself back out of reach.
"Points four and five. I've already sold my nav-comp Slave and the ship to the Freetraders in exchange for parts to retrofit the Space Princess. And I've salvaged the Star-Drive from Scorpio. We can modify her."
Jeremy brightened. "How hard can it be?"
Richard and James trembled. "DON'T SAY THAT!"
Avon smiled.
**************************
Several weeks later, much to the surprise of Tarrant, Dayna and Soolin (who had stayed on his ship out of sight, eating chocolate bikkies and playing Space Monopoly) the Liberator showed up on their detectors.
Jenna, Vila, and Cally (who had stayed on their ship out of sight, eating chocolate bikkies and playing Space Trivia) were less surprised. They had longer experience and more proof that Avon was a stubborn git.
"STAND AND DELIVER!" James shouted gleefully.
"Er, James, we're not pirates," Richard said. He pointed at the monitor where an image of a man with a black eye-patch glared back at them. "He is."
"Oh. He's not going to ram us amidships is he? That's where the chocolate bikkies are stored."
Avon was ignoring the conversation, staring at the pirate. The pirate was staring at him.
"So, you're the Stig," Avon finally said. "Orac told me, but I couldn't believe it. Not of you."
The pirate glared at Avon. "Do you think I care what you believe of me? I've got a pursuit ship in the hold, and Liberator is recharged. I can blow you...."
"I really wish you would, Roj."
The pirate's mouth closed. Then he smiled. "Permission to board is granted, Kerr."
**************************
The others watched on the monitors with disgust as Blake and Avon gazed into each other's eyes (well, one of Blake's you can't count the one under the eyepatch). Dayna made gagging noises.
"If they're going to start hanging lace curtains on the flight deck, I don't want to know about it," Jenna said, firmly switching her monitor over to the Space Princess.
A moment later, Tarrant followed suit. "Avon's teleported over to the Liberator with Orac, and Blake's taken off at Standard by... well... gone. What do we do now?"
Jeremy looked at everyone, and suddenly smiled. "Well, I happen to have positions open for racing drivers. Jenna would look good in white, and Tarrant in black."
"You have to stay anonymous," Richard said.
Jenna and Tarrant exchanged glances. "Suits us."
"And what about the rest of us?"
Jeremy ate a chocolate bikkie. "Well, if you were willing to crew on board the Princess..."
Vila grinned. "Pass the bikkies."
*The story of how all the crew survived and met each other proves the existence of the Infinite Improbability Drive. But they are embarrassed, so I can't tell you about it.
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Date: 2009-09-30 09:09 pm (UTC)The voices are fantastic - and the banter hysterical and sooo them...
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Date: 2009-10-01 12:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-01 12:14 am (UTC)"Possessive little bugger, aren't you?" Jeremy muttered, also noting the way Jeremy wasn't shrinking from Avon.
Presumably not Jeremy. Or is he noticing that about himself?
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Date: 2009-10-01 12:16 am (UTC)Thanks for catching the typo, I shall fix it now. I kept getting Jeremy and James mixed up.
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Date: 2009-10-01 01:19 pm (UTC)AWESOME
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Date: 2009-10-01 01:24 pm (UTC)