From: Centurion A.G. Cerberus (Galand@cris.com)
 Subject: Cerberus: The Return, part 2 
 Newsgroups: alt.barney.dinosaur.die.die.die
 Date: 1997/05/10 


Cerberus: The Return, Part 2
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"Left Turn at Alberqueque"

        He walked on, until he came to the massive entrance to the
spaceport on this strange new world. He noticed a pair of burly,
heavily-armed guards at the entrance, and wondered if he would be
required to surrender his weaponry…he found he didn’t like that idea
much. His fears proved to be unfounded however as he watched a troop
of mercenary furs (As he had mentally labeled this race) walk right on
in, loaded down with heavy weaponry and battle equipment. 
        { Must be an open port..} he mused as he strolled past,
looking at the various signs on the walls, searching for any hint of
something familiar. Suddenly he tensed, as strong prickling feeling
erupted at the back of his neck, and all his senses came alert. He was
being watched…and though he didn’t know how, he could tell that
whoever was watching wasn’t friendly. Ducking down a side passage, he
saw reflected in an office window a group of four humanoids, dressed
in gaudy purple uniforms and carrying weapons that looked like toy
rifles. Each one had a wide smile on their faces, and their eyes were
vacant of any real conscious thought. He ducked into a service alcove
along the wall and watched them pass, chattering inanely among
themselves, and about how pleased someone named "Lord Barney" would be
when they caught up with "Centurion Cerberus." 
        {Why are these goons looking for me? } thought Cerberus, { I
haven’t done anything wrong on this world… and if being human’s a
crime, they’re as guilty as I am. }
But no matter what, he felt some deep-seated need to cause mayhem and
death upon this group of people…he fought the urge off, telling
himself that if he went around lopping heads off, he really WOULD be
in trouble. He heard them come around for another pass, and he
suddenly wished he was invisible…He prepared to run for it, when one
of them looked right at him…and didn’t see him!
        Amazing! He had wished to be unnoticeable, and ceased to be of
interest to the world…he boldly stepped out in front of the group,
smiling at them. His concentration slipped, faltered, failed….and he
became very much visible as they closed to within arm’s reach.
"Ohhhhh…shit!" He muttered, spinning on one set of toes and dashing
headlong down the corridor even as the purple-clad goons yelled and
took the occasional potshot at him. He managed to get a good distance
away, and examined his sidearm. He had absolutely no idea what it did,
or how to make it do what it did, so he ducked into an alcove and drew
his broadsword…which mysteriously erupted in blue flames, the blade
glowing brighter as his unknown pursuers closed in.
        Alert klaxons had begun to sound, and he dimly sensed more
people approaching, but they were still far enough away for him to get
the job done. As he sensed, more than heard the first goon come close
to the alcove where he hid, he stepped out, swinging his sword in a
powerful arc, and neatly severing the purple-clad thug. As the other
three came around the corner, he noticed a group of six more running
up behind them. His face set and his expression grim, he began to hack
his way through the enemies, his blade now a hissing white-hot shaft
of death. A few of the attackers in the back managed to get some shots
off, one of which winged him in the left arm, which only served to
make him angrier. Screaming a furious war cry that he wasn’t sure
where he had heard, but sounded appropriate ("JIHAD!!!"), He rushed
the remaining two thugs, swinging low then high, cutting the leg off
the first one, then sinking his blade halfway into the chest of the
other. The goon on his sword shuddered, shrieked in pain, then
twitched and fell still.
        Casually kicking the corpse off his sword, he went over to the
one with the severed leg, which had been cauterized by the heat of the
blade. Placing one boot on the goon’s stomach and his swordpoint at
his foe’s throat, he growled, "Why are you trying to kill me?"
        The thug giggled like a little child, and said in a
high-pitched, sugary voice, "Oh, I can’t tell you that! It would spoil
all the fun! Lord Barney has a BIIIIIIIG surprise for you, you nasty
Jihaddi, oh yes he does!"
        Cerberus wrestled with his conscience. He could sense the
security forces of this world getting closer than was comfortable…if
he were to evade custody, he would have to leave now, possibly killing
this person beforehand…however, dealing with local authorities might
help him find a way home.
        Looking at his handiwork nearby on the floor and walls, he
didn’t think the local yokels would be willing to chat. Raising his
swordpoint, he prepared to drive a thrust into the goon’s heart, then
stopped…{I am no murderer} he thought, running off down towards the
doors marked ‘Landing Bays.’ 

        Back where he was laying, Luv-Sergeant Elmo felt around in his
pockets for that Happiness Energy Bar that Lord Barney had given him
before starting the mission. Lord Barney had told them all that if
they were captured, they were to eat the Happiness Energy Bar right
away, so it could make them so happy they wouldn’t feel bad about
failing their mission.
        Elmo unwrapped the granola bar, and took a huge bite out of
it. He smiled and giggled as the security blueshirts came around the
corner. The bar was already working…he felt so happy…soooo very
happy…..
        …When the spaceport coroner did the autopsy on Luv-Sergeant
Elmo later that day, he couldn’t suppress the shudder amd the chill
that looking at the hideously happy grin on the corpse’s face.

        Cerberus wandered the landing bays, looking for at worst a
place to hide, at best a ship to steal. Many of the vessels berthed
were locked down tight, or were so massive that he knew he wouldn’t be
able to fly them alone. 
        Looking into yet another bay, he spied what looked to be a
two-seater fighter craft. Perfect. And the cockpit was standing wide
open. Even better. Scrambling up the ladder, barely noticing his
still-bleeding arm, he hopped into the pilot’s seat and looked over
the controls. Most of them seemed familiar enough. He pushed a switch
marked "PWR" and heard a satisfying whine as the fighter’s reactor
system came online. He then searched for the engine start switches,
but was brought up short by the distinct click-whine of an energy
weapon being primed, and the cool press of a barrel against his
temple.
        "Take your hands off the controls and put them behind your
head," said a neutral feminine voice, which had a slight purring
undertone to it. Doing as he was told, he risked a sidelong glance at
his captor, and saw what looked to be a female snow leopard, grey with
black spots and rosettes, standing on the ladder holding a blaster to
his head with a slightly cold glare in her eyes. 
        He smiled and said quietly, "Uh…hi…Miss…uh." 
        She cut him short. "My name’s Buran, and I think I will be the
one asking the questions for now. Now, let’s start with who you are,
and why you’re trying to swipe my ship…"


…To Be Continued…


Copyright Stephen D. Scott
aka Centurion A. G. Cerberus
May 1997

Centurion Ashur Galand Cerberus,
Commanding Officer, WEDJEE
Proud member of the Doberman Empire and the Jihad to Destroy
 B'Harnii the Dinosaur.
Resident of the House Of Eternal Night, and one of the Kindred Children.
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aka Prof. Clayton Forrester, Evil Geniuses for a Better Tomorrow.
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WEDJEE-Weapons and Equipment Development for Jihad Expeditionary Efforts
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