Attack of the Carbon Barnacles!
Eh gads! What a mission! It all began when the brave and triumphant pilots of Starchaser sector entered airlock, only to experience the horrific misfortune of their once trustworthy ship Lucifer becoming infested by carbon barnacles, causing our once majestic ship to increase in density at a rate of 2.5 Ice Cream Sandwiches per second! Civitron and Mad Owl set their phasers to "Like Hell!," channeling their inner Kurt Russel before showing those cosmic crustaceans the meaning of maki! This, of course, lead to our beloved dynamic duo to crash land into Fort Jonathan!
Amidst the chaos and inferno, the remainder of the battalion were forced to flee into Deep Space; Beatleman taking Mission Lead, Ladybug and her loyal android, ARF2-D2, caressing the tail, whereas I–your handsome, omnipresent, and slightly narcissistic narrator, Walden P. James–took Navigation and Comsat Ape duties. "But what was the mission?" You might be asking. Well, let me assure you fateful reader, it surely wasn't for the faint of heart! So pre-flight your space undies, for when we intercepted the parameters we regretted not pre-flighting ours! The mission, as we chose to accept it, was to continue our current trajectory and penetrate the farthest parts of the Deep Space Sector and pay tribute to the Monoliths–an ancient race of mammoth carbon eaters–in hopes to gain their assistance to fend off the carbon barnacles!
With the thought of becoming a mid-aeon snack for these interstellar Olympians filling our minds, as well as our now squishy space undies, we turned to the indescribable Funky bass line which fills the heart of every SCUL pilot for the grumbah to engage our boosters and begin our journey.
As we broke orbit and approached the flaky crust of Deep Space, Ladybug and ARF2-D2's civiship's boosters began to fail; sputtering to an arthitic pace. Beatledude and myself locked eyes, drawing the same heartbreaking conclusion–CARBON BARNACLES! We turned our feet to led and engaged our exoskeleton-savy foes, exceeding the speed of flatulence and maneuvering past asteroids to assist our distressed comrades. It was apparent the civiship was overrun with the wannabe-lobster rodents, needing to be placed into quarantine and returned to our extraction point near the derelict Fort Johnathan before the remainder of our battalion searched for the Monolith home planet!
Upon reaching our extraction point, Civitron and Mad Owl sent transmission which stated that our SpecOps researchers had discovered a common allergy amongst the Cosmic Pubic Crabs: Althaea Officinalis, commonly known as "marshmallows." Yes, confused reader, these soulless fabrications of my warped imagination had a tendency of exploding upon entering close proximity with this delicious staple of intergalactic campsites and extraterrestrial bonfires. The lab pimps also hypothesized that roasting enough marshmallows would carry its mushy vapor into the atmosphere and radiate upon the invading louse!
No time was wasted! Beatleguy and I set our thrusters toward the New Beige Star System to intercept, and possibly liberate, a proletariat refueling station via their native Worm-through–because if anything is worth doing, it's worth doing right! We approached the imperial bourgeoisie machine, Cosmic Vermin Subsystems (C.V.S.), our blood hot with the spirits of underpaid workers secretly awaiting the Viva La Revolution with lasers!
We hit hard! Attacking how we knew best: with funk & dance! The Posi piercing through the cracked, worn skin of even the most beguiled proletariat, entering their souls with a beauty and multitude of color they won't soon forget! A short range scan unveiled to whereabouts of the Altheaea crops and extraction was completed with ease. We left via the Worm-through once more, only to find ourselves teleported back to the rims of Deep Space!
The Horror! How could this be?! The lab pimps failed to educate us on the unpredictability of Worm-throughs and we were forced to thrust our way deep, deep past the rim, into the Monolith's secret sector. It was our only way to return to the extraction point, to deliver our gooey payload in time and save Fort Jonathan! But soon we found ourselves surrounded by the Monoliths! Our carbon-based genomes were pulled closer to their bark skin and we became engulfed by their branches!
I opened my eyes to find we weren't disemboweled, torn limb from limb like a pinata, but very much alive, awake, and floating. All our short range scanners could detect were the twinkle of the constellations, quiet as they always were, never in need of garnering attention or gratitude, just happy to persist in shining their own version of light before burning away, and yet still stretching across every end of the universe long after. Persistence rewarded!
Suddenly, without explanation, I was in my ship once again, Beatlebro at my portside as we approached the airlock of Fort Jonathan, delivering our haul just in time to fend off what few barnacles were left! Roasting and ingesting the marshmallows to prevent further infestation! All and all, we survived unscathed! In an award ceremony following these unfathomably true events, Civitron and Mad Owl presented Beatleman and myself with our SCUL colors, ARF2-D2 yelping and rubbing its hindquarters in approval. Officially Starchasers, we huddled around the flames of old, gnawing on crisp, chard marshmallows as we steeped our enthusiasm, ready to shine our own lights brightly in future missions!