Woods Hole Century
To Woods Hole via the Woods Hole Wormhole... and back again!
Under the gentle autumnal rays of a benevolent daystar, five brave pilots set off from the New Bedford system deep in the heart of Starchaser territory. Their mission: to fly 100 light years to Woods Hole, a ‘census-designated place’ (CDP) on the galactic peninsula of Cape Cod, to collect evidence and artifacts proving the existence of an entity known as ‘pie,’ reportedly located in the sky. Metro Alpha pilots Dr. Claw, Snow, Dead Bride, and Bane Thunderwolf joined Admiral Civitron in his home system, breaking the curse of the tesseract and prevailing upon the generous hospitality of the Starchaser leader and his kinfolk.
The pilots made an early start at 10:00 hours, and traversed a leisurely path around scenic coastal environs. As we rolled along the sea wall, Snow was very nearly sucked into the mighty Atlantic nebula, but managed to miraculously avoid the perils below. The fleet passed by a strange group of civilians who, based on their primitive garb, appeared to have time-traveled into our era from the medieval past. Though we observed them in combat, we decided against challenging them to feats of strength, due to our peaceful nature and obvious technological superiority.
After cruising many light years, passing through some of the same territory that had been reconnoitered during the Styles Mandish Space Camp mission, the fleet decided to stop for a civilized lunch in the Wareham system. Pilots munched on pizza molecules, and Civitron discovered evidence suggesting an unknown enemy may possibly have attempted to poison him by sneaking cheese into his sandwich. Dead Bride helpfully obliterated the interloping dairy molecules by consuming them. After a brief additional stop to restock supplies, the pilots were again underway and heading for the asteroid belt delineating Cape Cod territory. Before crossing, the fleet made a fuel dump stop at a former railway depot, where we discovered a kind resident stricken with Bieber Fever. After Bane made a fine display of HARV prowess, several photographs were taken, bringing much joy to the afflicted civilian.
The pilots then faced a most arduous task: crossing over a massive hyperspace byway. Forced to spacewalk for safety reasons, a palpable gloom began to settle in, and pilots hovered on the brink of space madness before safely touching down on the opposite side just in the nick of time. The next several light years were characterized by g-well activity, and a foiled attempt to obtain ice cream molecules. At approximately LY 40, Pilots made contact with a great and glorious wormhole, shining like a beacon pointing to the sea. Re-energized, the pilots rejoiced and Dr. Claw cranked up the groove, bestowing the funk to passing civilians as we hurtled through the salt marshes en route to the fabled Hole. As the day star began to wane, the fleet arrived at the end of the wormhole and beheld the promised Pie, which indeed was found in the Sky of legend. Pilots noshed on sandwiches and baked goods, and encountered the Pie Man himself, who exchanged stickers with the fleet and graciously photographed the group in front of his formidable establishment.
Departing for the journey home, the pilots once again navigated the wondrous wormhole, this time cloaked in darkness and decorated with an impressive array of stars. We passed a friendly group of night-riding civilians, who oohed and ahhed over our laser arrays as we cruised by. Our joy at revisiting the wormhole was short-lived, however, and in the back of each pilot’s mind loomed the threat of the hyperspace byway. Luckily, the earlier crossing had hardened the pilots to the perils of this structure, and we were able to put our heads down and trudge across without incident.
The next phase of the journey involved forested territory and a return to minor g-well activity, and the fleet had to battle to keep clustered around the sustaining life force of the groove. Several stops were made to rest and refuel; during one such pause, Snow managed to scavenge several bagels from a nearby dumpster. As we cruised through the final light years, we encountered a transport which lingered at a light, only to surprise us by playing Queen’s bicycle song at us before chugging away. The final push involved an arduous space walk up a brutal negi g-well in the heart of New Bedford system, during which Dr Claw and Dead Bride made use of their low gears to continue to ride at walking pace with the rest of the fleet. Triumphantly returning to Fort Jonathan, we decided to forego closing ceremonies, in favor of consuming Ladytron’s delicious homemade food molecules. Pilots said goodbye to Bane Thunderwolf, (who disappeared into the night to escort Bieber back to the Somerville system,) and then collapsed for some well earned rest, which was thwarted by a disruptive nocturnal ruckus perpetrated by the feline entity known as ‘Pickles.’ At the break of the new day, the pilots thanked Admiral Civitron and his clan for their excellent hospitality, and congratulated themselves on another successful century before dispersing into the glinting rays of the daystar, bound for further adventures.