Work Text:
Lunch Aboard a Haunted Station
It was no surprise that being the equivalent of an interdimensional king/warlord meant one would have a busy schedule. Putting down rebellions of a violent splinter faction, negotiating with diplomats, dealing with the occasional collapse of the spacetime continuum, doing maintenance on an armored fighting vehicle, having to eliminate the newest variation of a multi-headed skeletal planet eating cyborg entity for the upteenth time in the past week, dealing with a scatter brained friend trying to coax spearmint into starting a space exploration program… Let it be known across the multiverse that Jason Frudnick was a very busy man with very little spare time for himself, his wife, or even his kids.
“All right Fred… Now that Kanna and Cyberpentaboss are handled, what’s next?” he groaned as he collapsed into his pilot seat.
“Ribbit,” Fred replied.
“Let’s see… There’s a meeting with Kane tomorrow… I think there’s meeting with the kids after that-”
“Ribbit.”
“-there’s the dimensional tear in T Sector-”
“Ribbit.”
“-and Sophia needs a tune up before we go after-”
“Ribbit!” Fred jumped onto Jason’s head.
“Hey!”
Fred, despite looking like the animal known as a “frog,” was doing a very good job of giving the impression of being fed up with his master. As a support drone for the tank-like vehicle Sophia-J1, he was programmed to provide his master with as much aid as possible. Whether that be to open up wormholes, scout ahead, or just be a person to talk to, Fred was always ready to assist Jason. However, right now Jason did not need assistance in the myriad responsibilities that never seemed to stop. Instead, Jasson needed to stop being Jason and get some rest in one form or another.
“Okay, what did I do this time Fred?” Jason sighed as he pulled Fred off his head.
“Ribbit,” Fred replied as a status monitor flashed up.
“Eh? What do you mean I’m burnt out?”
“Ribbit.”
“Fred, I’m not human anymore. I’m a super-dimensional entity, remember?”
“Ribbit…”
“I do eat and sleep! I did last month didn’t I?”
“Ribbit ribbit ribbit.”
“Don’t get smart with me.”
“Ribbit ribbit!”
Jason flinched as he saw the image on the screen, “You wouldn’t… Eve doesn’t need to be bothered about this.”
“Ribbit.”
“Let’s be reasonable about this Fred.”
“Ribbit…”
“Fine! Fine! You win. But what about-”
“Ribbit! Ribbit ribbit! Ribbit!”
Jason huffed in defeat. Despite playing a supporting role most of the time, Jason was constantly reminded that Fred was exceptionally independent and could be a driving force for a whole series of misadventures. Trying to argue with the one companion that was always by his side and knew Jason better than he knew himself at times was futile.
“We’re keeping this between us,” Jason muttered as he began inputting coordinates into the monitor.
“Ribbit…” Fred croaked ominously.
“What? There’s things that need to be done. Someone has to handle them,” Jason shrugged his shoulders, “Just going to leave some instructions for the lieutenants before I go gallivanting off into the multiverse.”
Fred blinked before nodding as the screen flashed again.
“You’re not going to let this go are you? Fine… But we’re getting food on my terms,” Jason glared at the probe before firing up the engines.
Fred knew better than to argue further. Jason was notoriously stubborn in whatever he set out to do. The fact his master was willing to bend at all without the intervention of his wife was a miracle in itself given the fact that Fred usually ended up having to get far more creative to create a forced break. Fred could only hope that wherever Jason decided to go for lunch would be relatively calm.
(Though given Jason’s penchant to find or be found by trouble on quite literally a universal scale, Fred had very little hope for just a simple lunch…)
After leaving instructions behind for a few trusted entities, Jason flew Sophia through a wormhole. Despite looking more like a tank than anything else, Sophia-J1 was an exceptional vehicle that could fill a variety of roles. Outside of Metal Attackers (the class of vehicles the original Sophia III was a part of lifetimes ago), Jason had yet to find anything across the multiverse that even came close to competing with Sophia.
Then again, Kane could probably win if he piloted some of the things I’ve seen and fought against, Jason casually thought about his father-in-law while he flew Sophia through a nebula.
Before he could stop himself, he let out a yawn. The action surprised him as did the feeling of exhaustion. While not necessarily a location in realspace, the nebula he was currently in was an anomaly amongst the various planes of reality. Jason found himself caught halfway between the human being he was years ago and the inter-dimensional entity he had become since then. It was...rather disconcerting just how unfamiliar the feelings were to him.
“I’m probably thinking too much into it,” he muttered before letting out another yawn.
The sensor beacon beeped, drawing his attention. Jason quickly snapped to attention as his inter-dimensional self and years of adventures kicked in. While the nebula was a “safe” location in general, it did house plenty of hostile and predatory beings. Getting caught off guard would be a disaster and he really did not want to explain to his wife why Sophia needed to be rebuilt (again) after getting into a fight while he was getting lunch…
“You picking up anything buddy?” Jason asked as his helmet folded over his head.
“Ribbit,” Fred replied, “Ribbit.”
“Yeah… Let’s just get to the station without running into anyth-” Jason was cut off as something moved through the clouds outside.
Jason blinked his eyes and squinted. As an interdimensional traveler/king, he was very familiar with wayward multiverse travelers, aliens, ghosts, demons, artificial intelligences, reality destroying beings, and the such. The nebula he was in was a crossroad for such entities and any number of them could just be somewhere in the clouds of gas. Jason knew they would be limited by the same fluctuating rules he was bound by here (mostly in the sense that nothing really made sense and strengths and weaknesses were more of suggestions than hard facts), but he did not survive as long as he did by being incompetent.
“You seeing it also?” Jason asked Fred.
“Ribbit,” Fred glanced to the side.
Jason blinked and saw what his companion was looking at. Floating maybe a couple of meters away was a spacecraft. Wracking his brain, he could not recall ever seeing the design before. In the corner of his eye, he saw that the unknown entity had also noticed the spacecraft.
Okay… One large entity and an unknown craft, Jason adjusted his grip on the controls, The station is a hundred kilometers away and I can either get help or… Wait a minute… “Jerry? Is that you?”
Floating between Sophia and the unknown spacecraft was a colossal wormlike being. Despite having no definitive idea on exactly what “Jerry” was or where exactly he even came from, Jason had met with the being on a number of occasions. Jerry was inquisitive and generally friendly given the fact new arrivals to the nebula often enough commented on having “a giant space worm” guiding them.
“Yes, hi Jerry. It’s been a while,” Jason sighed in relief as Jerry waved one of his many limbs back at him.
“Ribbit,” Fred croaked in similar greeting as he hopped onto Jason’s shoulder.
“So… New arrivals?” Jason gestured towards the craft which floated aimlessly.
Jerry nodded before getting closer to the craft to examine it. Without warning, Sophia’s systems blared in alarm as power signatures flared up from the craft. Jason eyed the information and instantly knew the craft was in a bad shape but still capable of putting up a fight. Despite his experience in dealing with reality destroying beings, Jason was not going to brush the unknown craft off as trivial.
“Let me handle this one Jerry,” he muttered as he flicked a few switches, “Unidentified craft, this is Sophia-J1. Can you hear me? Repeat, this is Sophia-J1. Can you hear me?”
After a few tense seconds a nasally voice replied, “We’re reading you Sophia-J1. This is Federation bomber J5-231 ‘Jester,’ Eighteenth Flotilla… I assume the giant space whale isn’t hostile?”
Yup, first timers. “Jerry is just curious about new arrivals like yourself, Jester. Though I wouldn’t recommend us staying out here for too long.”
“...It’s named Jerry?”
Jason laughed. Admittedly, he had been slightly confused about the name the first time he learned about it, but not to the same degree. The sheer confusion in those three words was enough to make him completely forget about everything that has happened over the past few weeks.
“Is that a flying tank?” a different voice questioned, “Yag, why are we talking to a giggling flying tank pilot and what gives with the kaiju outside?”
“Ribbit,” Fred croaked disapprovingly as Jason laughed even harder.
“Why is there a frog now?!” the second voice exclaimed in confused exasperation.
“Andy, stop thinking so loudly and fix the comm system,” the first one groaned, “Sophia-J1… I don’t suppose we could trouble you for assistance? Our nav systems are inoperable, hull critical, and our supplies are nearly depleted.”
Jason managed to compose himself as the information began to process through his giggles, “S-Heh-Ahem-Sorry. That’s the first time I’ve laughed in months and I needed to do that more than I realized. As for your situation, there’s a station nearby that offers services nearby. I was heading that way myself. Are your engines or maneuvering thrusters operational?”
“Affirmative but our sensors are crippled due to damage and the nebula.”
“Can you keep track of me even with those complications?”
“...Affirmative… What about our friend here? You sure we aren’t going to get eaten by him?”
Jerry jerked back in surprise. Jason was fairly certain the worm was glaring at the bomber with umbridge.
“I can assure you Jerry isn’t interested in anything of the sort,” Jason eyed his sensor monitor, “But I can’t say the same for who or what has just noticed us… I suggest we make a break for Pitstop Eldritch before something more eldritch than me shows up.”
The delayed response was filled with uncertainty and a hint of fear, “Copy that Sophia-J1. Lead the way.”
After a few minutes of escorting the Jester alongside Jerry, Jason saw Pitstop Eldritch. The space station was nothing special at a glance but he knew it (and other interdimensional hubs scattered between different universes) held some surprises within its walls. Mushroom shaped, the top dome held a few pocket dimensional hangar bays while the central shaft had a few viewports. Despite the internal layout remaining consistent outside of the hangars, Jason was fairly sure the station was “alive” and some kind of dimensional entity itself given that it always seemed to be busy and yet never crowded with wide hallways, a large dinner, and even luxurious bedrooms.
(And then there were the other “guests” that showed up from time to time but those were handled by the station staff. Still though, why do they leave the hallways connecting the various pocket dimensions of the station together to be haunted by ghosts, demons, and giant angry prokaryotes? So far the only substantial rumors as to why the station staff went along with the deliberately haunted hallways were to either trap the entities in locations where they could do nothing or to give the maintenance staff some excitement. Both seemed...questionable at best but it was Pitstop Eldritch…)
“Sophia-J1, glad to see you again,” a voice crackled on the communicator, “What brings you to this side of the multiverse?”
“Lunch and some down time. Some new guests are tailing me,” Jason replied.
“They’re on the scope as is Jerry. You and your new friends are cleared for bay fifteen.”
“Bay fifteen, understood,” Jason swapped frequencies, “Jester, this is Sophia-J1. We’ve got clearance to land. Just stay on my tail.”
“Understood Sophia-J1,” the nasally voice sounded relieved.
“Everything all right over there?”
“Just glad there’s someplace safe and no one is shooting at us.”
Jason hummed in agreement. The more detailed scans he picked up on the craft showed that the Jester was in worse condition than he initially thought. There was a hull breach, whatever counted for armor was a patchworked mess, and the reactor readings indicated that the Jester was running suboptimally. Whoever the crew were for the Jester, they quickly were earning Jason’s respect for being tough and stubborn enough to make the most of their situation.
“Ribbit,” Fred croaked.
“Yeah I know buddy,” Jason sighed as he pilot Sophia towards the docking bay, “Kinda reminds me of that mess we were in while chasing after Eve…”
Shaking his head to clear it of old memories, he gently guided his faithful vehicle into the station and landed it. After powering down Sophia’s systems, he double checked his flight suit and popped the hatch to exit with Fred hitching a ride on his shoulder. On the other end of the docking bay, the battered Jester had landed and was in the process of cycling an airlock.
Ensign Andy Ranton was having probably the most exhausting day of his life. Considering he and his fellow crewmates have been fighting a guerrilla campaign while on the backfoot of a galactic civil war, have managed to cheat death more times than they can count within the past month alone, all while running on limited supplies and sleep, this was saying something. What was supposed to be a simple hit-and-run raid for supplies only five hours ago quickly turned into a fight against two fighter wings and a whole frigate providing support fire. Somehow, the Jester managed to survive multiple direct hits by heavy weapons, fire bombs sucking up the oxygen, two teleportation boarding attempts, and a hacking drone attack on the engines all at once. After receiving an ion blast to the already malfunctioning engines, and having his non-regulation messy beard and hair singed, he managed to get the sensors back to a semi-functioning state to allow the helmsman to make an FTL jump out of that mess.
Which leads to some kind of space whale, a flying tank, a giggling madman, and a frog… Have I missed anything? No? Okay...good, just checking, he thought as he checked his pulse pistol again as the airlock cycled, Time to figure out what’s going on and maybe get two hours of uninterrupted sleep before I put the Jester back together again.
“I’ve got point,” the scarred Mantis standing next to him, Fez, muttered.
Despite knowing Fez was an excellent fighter and gunnery officer, Andy was concerned for his fellow crewmate. Mantis’ were not well received these days and Fez was just as exhausted as Andy was. Fez was an excellent fighter but the last fight showed just how far he was slipping. He had stumbled over his legs trying to extinguish fires, mismanaged the weapons system with power distribution, and got surprised by a few sucker punches from hostile borders. After months of fighting and running on fumes, Andy was not going to let his friend face whatever was waiting-
“Huh… Another praying mantis species,” the (formerly) giggling tank pilot said in an inquisitive voice as the airlock doors opened.
Andy took the pilot in and subtlety relaxed his grip on his pistol in its holster. The pilot was a young man with black hair, blue eyes, some kind of alien frog on his shoulder, carrying a helmet, and most importantly, not wearing orange but rather red and blue. Despite the possibility of a trap, Andry was relieved that the pilot had (on the surface at least) no affiliation with the Rebellion currently tearing the galaxy apart…
“Ribbit,” the frog croaked.
“Oh right,” the man ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair before giving a wave, “Jason Frudnick, pilot of Sophia-J1 back there.”
Fez and Andy shared brief looks of incredulous shock.
Don’t screw this up Andy. “Ensign Andy Ranton, engineer of the Jester.”
“Fez, real name you won’t be able to pronounce. Gunnery chief and security,” Fez chittered.
“Bailey Waller, bay fifteen overseer,” in walked...a giant teddy bear?!
Jason glanced over at Bailey as he walked over. While the ensign and gunnery chief starred in unadulterated surprise, Jason was more concerned with the tablet he was being handed. Glancing at it, he saw that it was the waiver and soul contract to prevent any unwanted “mischief” from occurring while he stayed (violators would spend time as maintenance staff for a variable amount of time depending on the severity of their misdeeds before being unceremoniously dumped back in their home reality in a compromising position for public embarrassment). Signing the tablet, he hesitated on handing it back as he noticed the optional service options.
Well Sophia could use a tune up but I can handle that on my own and right now the Jester needs one more. “Hey, you need someone to pick up the tab for a repair job on the Jester?” he called out.
“Uh… Maybe?” the ensign replied.
“Most likely,” the gunnery chief said more assuredly.
Bailey sighed before sticking out a hand to which Jason returned the tablet to, “Federation bomber J5-231 ‘Jester,’ crew of four, currently at twenty percent hull integrity, reactor output at seventy five percent if pushed to critical levels, has a disabled med bay with a hull breach, half burnt out life support, shields at fifty percent, only one weapon at a time can be used, and short on fuel, munitions, and provisions according to scans. Current viable payments for a full repair and resupply are the scrap you have in your cargo hold, the drone parts sitting next to the scrap, or accepting Frudnick’s offer to foot the bill,” Bailey tapped away at the tablet as he walked over towards the two Jester crewmates.
“Uh… You sure Yag? All right…” Andy seemingly replied to no one before grabbing the tablet and looking at it, “Wait, what’s this about a soul contract?!”
“Give me that,” Fez swiped the tablet to read it for himself before glaring at Bailey, “Is this a joke?”
“It’s not. I can assure you,” Jason called out, amused yet understanding of the suspicion, “You will be bound to servitude maintaining the Pitstop if you misbehave.”
“Right… Nothing like the threat of indentured servitude to force people to behave,” Andy grabbed the tablet again and, with a tired sigh, signed it.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Bailey said as he grabbed the tablet back, “Frudnick, mind escorting them to the promenade while I get a team in here?”
A few minutes later after securing weapons and turning power systems off, Jason was escorting the Jester crew towards the promenade. The other two members, a telepathic Slug pilot by the name of “Yag” (who Jason originally spoke with over the communications channels), and an energy being known as a Zoltan named “Dunlap,” joined Andy and Fez. The entire crew was understandably confused and weary from their tales of a galactic civil war and general lack of experience with inter-dimensional/multiversal travel.
“So who built this station anyway?” Dunlap asked as the group walked through the hallways.
“Don’t know exactly. Have some theories but spaces between universes tend to run on funny rules so it could be anyone and anything,” Jason shrugged.
“Funny rules,” Andy repeated dryly.
“We’re in between an infinite amount of different realities. Each of those realities has their own laws of physics, various periodic tables, classifications of magic-”
Jason was cut off by a yelp. The group stopped and turned to look down a hallway to see a writhing mass of tentacles entering a room carrying two teenagers.
“Wait wait wait wait wait! Why me?!” one of the teens yelled.
“Seriously Pete?! This again?!” the other exclaimed in exasperation before the door slammed shut.
“Ribbit,” Fred croaked after a few seconds of silence.
“Yeah I’m not getting the kids one of those,” Jason muttered as he ran a hand down his face.
“Ribbit.”
“What in the name of everything holy was that?!” Andy yelled, “I thought this place was a service station!”
“Bath time,” Yag answered.
“What do you mean bath time?!”
“Yeah that sounds about right,” Jason huffed.
“The creature overheard that it needed a bath and got excited. The two teenagers are currently getting soaked because the creature enjoys sharing the experience,” Yag just rubbed his head tiredly, “The teens are very annoyed and complaining that they will need to get changed afterwards.”
“Don’t you Humans have stories about wiggling long limbed monsters?” Dunlap asked.
“Okay moving on now!” Jason said hurriedly, “We’ll just be avoiding the bathroom with the bath time enthusiastic mutated Slugcat!”
“You sure I don’t need to go in there and save those two?” Fez asked as Jason hurriedly continued walking.
“Even with a headache my telepathy is working normally. Trust me, the worst those two have to worry about is laundry,” Yag sighed.
Andy could understand why Jason was eager to move on given the question Dunlap had just asked. While he was concerned about the teens himself, he was too confused and frankly tired to think at the moment. Yag said the “slugcat” (whatever that is) was an overly enthusiastic creature that liked to take baths and the teenagers would be fine. That was good enough for him.
Still have a headache, he rubbed his head as he felt a tension headache form, Can the Rebels start shooting at me again?
“All right here we are,” Jason said as he stopped at what appeared to be an elevator.
“I’m sensing something coming behind us and it’s not friendly,” Yag warned.
Before they could move, the elevator dinged and the door opened. Inside was a cybernetic Human with a service trolley.
“Excuse me,” the man said in a bored tone.
“What kind of equipment is that?” Dunlap asked as they parted ways only for an otherworldly scream to let loose.
“Wrenches, screwdrivers, plasma cutter/welder, sanitation sprays, Matter Manipulator, quantum matter compressors, singularity fuses… Maintenance supplies in general,” the man pushed the trolly before glaring down the hallway where the scream came from.
“Maybe you should let us handle whatever is down there first,” Fez offered as the hallway flicked.
“Don’t bother. It’s one of the haunted hallways,” Jason muttered, “There’s always something down there to my knowledge.”
“Ribbit,” the frog croaked.
“Haunted...hallway?” Andy repeated.
As if to answer, the lights began flickering rapidly and the metal groaned. The janitor stopped at the edge before opening a supply cabinet.
“All right… Which one of you is it today?” the janitor asked, pulling out...a spray bottle?!
In response, a creature seemingly teleported into view. While the flickering lights were disorienting, Andy could see the nightmarish thing easily. Bulbous body, a mouth full of twisted and jagged teeth, two empty eyes like blackholes, skeletal arms, and an ethereal purple glow that seemed to radiate pure fury and hatred. Andy had faced terrifying creatures and situations before, but this was something else. His knees shook, heart pounded, forehead sweated. He had to run, get as far away from whatever this-
“Of course it’s you Tom,” the janitor sighed and put the spray bottle on the trolly before pulling out an electric toothbrush of all things.
“Wait for it,” Jason said as he held the elevator door.
The creature took a moment to realize the device and went silent. Andry could swear the creature was almost afraid of the device. With a push of the button, the janitor turned it and the toothbrush began to buzz. With a scream straight out of a horror movie “Tom” reeled back and disappeared, the hallway turning back to normal within seconds as the creature faded away.
“Wh… What just happened?” Andy asked, still struggling to get his heart rate under control.
“Pest problem named Tom, a particularly stubborn Erchius Ghost who somehow is afraid of toothbrushes. Probably because he looks like toothpaste and saw someone brushing their teeth or something,” the janitor replied before putting the toothbrush in his pocket and pushing the cart into the hallway, “And if any of you other stinkers plan to cause trouble, I have a rolled newspaper and a spray bottle with your name on it so don’t think you’re safe either!”
“Ribbit,” the frog croaked.
“Come on. Let’s get something to eat,” Jason said.
“That sounds good to me,” Dunlap replied eagerly.
“Think that trick could work on the Rebels?” Fez asked as he turned around.
“Just turn around and walk into the elevator Andy,” Yag said gently, using his mental powers to influence Andy’s mind.
“Yeah… Sounds like a good idea…” Andy said weakly, still trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed as he walked into the elevator.
A fast elevator ride later and Jason had finally brought the Jester crew to the promenade (or at least one of them. He was fairly sure that Pitstop Eldritch had multiple promenade’s due to its heavy use of pocket dimensions). As the elevator doors opened, the sounds of music and chatter were heard instantly. The scenery was supposed to evoke a “1950’s American diner” feeling (whatever that meant) and had a few customers from across the multiverse. A few were sitting at the main counter, another four were playing a game of pool, and then there were the two Slugcats having a saxophone duel on the other end of the room.
“Here we are,” Jason walked out and headed towards the main counter.
“Ribbit,” Fred hopped off and headed for a chess table.
“Am I still seeing things or is that a dragon in a cartoon janitor uniform?” Andy asked as he pointed at a figure in the back of the room.
“You’re seeing a dragon in a cartoon janitor uniform,” Yag sighed, “Come on Andy. Let’s just take the window table and look at something that makes sense like space clouds.”
Jason cocked his head to see what they were talking about and nearly bursted into laughter. Standing at the far end of the room in overalls and wearing a hat was Ridley, a cruel and sadistic space pirate lord who was scowling at the floor as he mopped it. The sight alone made Jason’s entire year.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” he chuckled as he sat down and picked up a menu.
“Indeed,” a gruff voice agreed.
“Still trying to figure out which is more odd. The pirate lord turned janitor or those two with the sax’s over there,” another said.
Looking at his neighbors, Jason was surprised to see two familiar faces, “Gannondorf Dragmire and Adam Rosline. It’s been a while since I’ve seen versions of you.”
“We’ve met before?” Adam asked, eating a waffle.
“Echo 438 showed up the last time I was here,” Jason shrugged before spotting what he wanted to eat, “Waiter! Dragon egg omelet with mixed spices and cheddar. I’ll take a mocha for a drink.”
“Last thing I remember from that run was falling into a blackhole… I guess I didn’t spaghettify then either if I showed up here,” Adam sighed.
Jason snorted. Adam Roslin was an interesting character no matter which clone line of him one ran into. The same man getting copied, flying, and either escaping a lawless region of frontier or succumbing to its multiple dangers before repeating the whole process. The fact that each one remembered everything up until the prior “run” ended (usually in a violent death) added to the character of each Adam.
“He’s Echo 572,” Gannondorf (or just simply Gannon if he was in his demonic form) muttered as he poked at his eggs.
“Mmm, I see,” Jason replied as his lunch materialized in front of him, “So what’s up with Ridley? Mrs. Arran blow him up again?”
“He followed Bowser here after a sports event and tried to do his usual shtick. He has another five months to pay off his sentence before he’s allowed to return to his universe.”
“Which one was Bowser again?” Adam asked.
“The turtle dragon who has a rivalry with a mushroom eating plumber,” Jason answered before waving a fork at the saxophone playing Slugcats, “How about those two? What’re the twin sibling versions of Saint and Inv doing here?”
Somehow Andy felt let confused about this situation than he was before. Yes, there was a skeleton/ghost thing having a conversation with some kind of demon. Yes there were things in the nebula clouds outside the space station that were probably nightmare fuel. Yes, Jason’s frog thing was playing chess with a completely different demon while said demon’s owner was playing pool with some ghosts. And yes, there was a dragon mopping the floor in front of two ferrets who were having a saxophone duel.
But given all the chaos that has happened, just being able to sit down and eat some actual food in a peaceful setting was doing wonders for his psyche. Even if the customers were extraordinary, the setting was mundane and made sense. It was no different than any other diner or bar he had seen on frontier space stations before where various species intermingled with each other over a meal.
“Think the rest of the promenade is like this?” Fez asked as he waved a claw at the scene.
“We are safe, getting actual food, and not having to deal with whatever happened earlier. Let’s just enjoy the calm while we can,” Dunlap groaned.
“Amen to that,” Andy agreed as the sax duel came to an end.
“What about rest? The Jester is grounded until the repairs are finished and we’ve been fighting nearly non-stop for months,” Yag commented.
That was actually a good point. After months of fighting and just barely surviving, the Jester crew needed some actual rest. Andy was half a mind that everything around him was being conjured up by his mind due to a lack of sleep. There was also the fact that even with the fantastic technology of the space station (such as a food replicator built into the table), the Jester itself was going to need some time to be repaired and resupplied.
Hopefully those drone parts really do cover the tab, Andy thought as he picked up a grilled cheese sandwich, Last thing I want is to be stuck in the janitor uniform like the dragon over there… Or be bound in indentured servitude in any capacity really.
“All right that’s it! You’re going down!” a shrill voice screamed.
All four turned their heads towards one of the other tables. A woman (a zombie who was made like a patchwork quilt in Andy’s opinion), was glaring daggers at a man while a purple dragon (no relation to the one in the janitor overalls) was in between the two of them. The skeleton next to the woman tried to interfere but was shoved to the side and fell apart.
“Hey now! Let’s be reasonable about this,” the dragon protested as he tried to deescalate the situation.
“Idiots,” the demon playing with Jason’s frog muttered.
“Ribbit,” the frog seemingly agreed.
“Foul wrench! I will send you back to the grave!”
“Come on guys!” the dragon protested.
“Should we do anything?” Fez asked.
“Normally I’d say yes but I actually want to see this play out,” Dunlap replied.
Nope. Not my problem. Nope nope nope, Andy took another bite of his sandwich.
“I recognize Simon but who’s her?” Jason asked as the scene unfolded.
“No idea,” Gannondorf replied, “My money’s on Simon if they take it to the dueling ring.”
“Same.”
“What’s the big deal about him?” Adam asked as other patrons began to help the dragon separate the two quarreling individuals.
“He fights Dracula,” Jason rolled his eyes.
“Of course Dracula exists… So he’s basically Van Helsing?”
“Sure, let’s go with that.”
Gannondorf resumed eating and muttered under his breath. Jason could somewhat understand the attitude of the “Demon Prince of Darkness.” As much of a monster as Gannon(dorf) can be across the various universes/timelines he has existed (and temporal anything is always a headache to even begin making any sense out of), the man was very much a product of a foolish curse and was just tired of going around in circles. The version sitting down next to Jason was one of the tamer ones who, while still being power hungry, needed a break from being reminded about being the “big bad guy” and just wanted to eat food in peace.
“Simon Belmont! Ragna Valdersdottir! You shall cease and desist immediately! Fighting in a public space aboard the Pitstop will result in a breach of the waiver you both signed!” the station intercom went off.
“Oh please let them go at it,” Ridley smirked as he walked by with his mop and bucket before glaring at Gannondorf, “Still losing to that Hero Gannon?”
“You’re still sore about our last battle Ridley? Give it a break already. It was a fair fight and you would have done the same had our positions been swapped,” Gannondorf huffed, “At least our bouts are mere matters of fleeting pride and not getting banished for the next century.”
“There is way too much in that sentence to unpack that I’m not even going to bother,” Adam muttered, rubbing his temples.
Jason ignored the conversation as he watched the almost-physically fighting pair get approached by Saint and Inv. Despite the two eldritch Slugcats appearing to be insignificant compared to the warriors they were speaking with, they managed to convince the pair to calm down. All four then went to a separate set of doors and were teleported out of the room.
Well this is going to be interesting. “Hey Gannon, Ridley. Looks like they’re taking it to the arena. Want to actually put bets down?” Jason offered.
“Hmm… Very well. One cursed warhammer in favor of Simon,” Gannon rubbed his chin in thought.
“Plasma reactor for the lady,” Ridley put his mop aside and pulled out a tablet.
“Blaster rifle for Inv. I’ll ship it when it’s ready,” Jason leaned over to look at the tablet screen.
“HIVE is going to kill me if I go along with this… Ah screw it. Customized and fully specked out forty mil gatling cannon. Put it down for whoever the fourth guy is,” Adam offered.
A few hours later Jason was leaving the station. Despite losing his bet to Ridley, he felt pretty decent about the afternoon. The Jester crew remained behind to wait for their bomber to be repaired (not realizing it already was and that Jason quietly paid for them to have a full week of rest and relaxation in one of the less chaotic sections of the station), Fred had managed to attract the attention of a semi-possessed marine who was lost (given his assignment was the the planet of Petrichor V, easily understandable) while playing chess with the Imp doing the possessing which resulted in a new hire, and Jason had managed to hire Adam Echo 572 for his home universe to deal with non-inter-dimensional problems.
“Well I know this was supposed to be a relaxation trip but still got things done,” Jason said as he and Fred walked past the twisted, screaming haunted hallway filled with skeletons which went ignored.
“Ribbit,” Fred croaked almost disapprovingly.
“Come on Fred. It just happened all right? They needed jobs so I gave them offerings.”
Fred gave his own eye roll but stayed silent. He would be lying if the Imp he played against was boring and the marine was one of the more rational individuals to come from the temporal, quantum mess called Petrichor V. (Due to it being from his home universe, Fred was going to play favorites and insist that Stranga was still the more bizarre planet. Fred found the statement from one multiverse explorer that the planet was “an alcoholic acid trip” was very much fitting.) At the very least in regards to that situation, there was now another super soldier who could face reality destroying creatures with a progressive purpose out in the multiverse as opposed to being a mindless killing machine.
“Besides, the Roslin’s are pretty good pilots and we got an Echo as opposed to a Gamma. He’ll get along well with Kane no problem,” Jason continued talking.
“Ribbit,” Fred agreed.
As they walked, the two teenagers from earlier were lounging about playing guitars in the hallway. Laying next to them was a red furred Slugcat that was sleeping peacefully. With some trepidation, Jason hurriedly walked past them and gave the Slugcat a wary look. Both teenagers chuckled as he walked by.
“Well glad they’re amused,” Jason sighed as he quickly continued on his way to the hangar bay.
After a few moments of walking, Jason entered bay fifteen. Bailey was waiting for him with a freshly refurbished Jester sitting next to Sohpia-J1.
“Heading out?” Bailey asked as he tapped away at his tablet.
“Yup. This was fun but I’ve got stuff to do back home,” Jason replied as he popped the cockpit on Sophia.
“Mmm. Glad to be of service. Take care of yourself, Frudnick.”
“See ya around Bailey,” Jason climbed inside Sophia and closed the cockpit behind him, “All right Sophia, let’s go.”
After a fast boot up, Sophia rocketed out Pitstop Eldritch. As Jason flew his faithful vehicle through the nebula, a few passing entities (Jerry included who was leaving as well) paused to wave. Once he was past the security field of the station, Jason inputted the coordinates for his next destination and flew Sophia through an inter-dimensional portal.
What was waiting for him on the other side was not at all what he was expecting.
“Jason Frudnick… You get down here right now!” his radio yelled at him.
Jason blinked in surprise as he gathered his bearings. He was currently flying Sophia over the pocket of super-dimensional space that was his private home. With a heated look, he glared at Fred who sat next to him looking completely innocent.
“Seriously Fred?” he growled before sighing and turning on his radio to talk to his agitated wife, “Hi Eve… I’m home!”
After a week of rest, Andy felt mostly refreshed. He and his fellow crew mates had been able to get sleep, fresh clothes, and warm food in abundance for the first time in months. He no longer looked like a scraggly madman one moment from snapping as he had managed to get a trim and a shave.
Still like the beard though, he thought as rubbed said clean beard while walking with his crew walked back to the hangar to be reunited with their bomber.
“This is definitely the strangest leave I’ve ever had,” Yag commented.
“Think we can get away with being AWOL for a week?” Dunlap asked.
“Let’s just say we were stranded for some time and took advantage of the situation,” Fez suggested.
“Right and let’s also explain the dragons, demons, non-corporeal beings, and the giant friendly worm named Jerry of all things,” Andy rolled his eyes.
Despite the insanity, Andy could honestly say the experience was...good. There were some moments of confused terror, but the station staff were quite accommodating and even had psychiatric help whenever the strange oddities became too much. There also was no civil war to worry about and some of the entities actually were friendly enough to hold a decent conversation with, even the supposed “monsters.”
But duty calls and they had to return home. The Federation needed every craft it could get and the Jester crew were bound by oath to serve. The station staff would provide a direct route to the Federal headquarters where they could be debriefed before being redeployed.
“Still amazed that Frudnick fellow paid for everything,” Fez commented as they entered the hangar.
“Considering we had to use up our entire supply of drone parts to cover the repair costs, let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth,” Andy commented.
“We weren’t using any of them anyway,” Yag said as they entered the airlock, “But yes, let’s just be grateful he had been a bleeding heart and gave us the chance to get some actual rest.”
After dispersing, they went to their respective stations. Despite the much needed rest, Andy missed the Jester. The bomber was cramped and spartan, but it was home. He loved the bomber and knew the others did also. It was cramped, a weapon of war, and not exactly comfortable, but it was home. Andy loved the Jester and it felt good to be back aboard.
“Okay girl… Time to get back into action,” he said quietly as he began the ignition sequence for the engines.
Yag reached out telepathically once the systems flickered to life, “All stations report in.”
“Weapons locked, loaded, and ready to fire,” Fez reported.
“Shields are operating at one hundred percent efficiency,” Dunlap called.
“Engines and reactor are purring like kittens,” Andy said.
“Helm is ready. Systems are green across the board,” Yag finished, “Pitstop Eldritch, this is Federation bomber J5-231. Requesting permission to take off.”
“Copy that J5-231. You are clear to leave. Nav coordinates for your ticket home should be in your system,” the reply came.
“We’ve got them. Thanks for hosting us, Eldritch.”
“It was our pleasure J5-231. Good luck out there. Pitstop Eldritch out.”
Andy adjusted the power to the engines and the Jester gently flew out of the hangar. As it flew, Andy opened up a screen to take one final look at the station. Right behind them, another ship was leaving alongside the Jester.
Goodbye Pitstop Eldritch. May we never meet again you madhouse, Andy thought as he closed the image down.
Ten minutes later:
“Captain! We’ve got a bomber on scope, one of ours!”
“Confirm it.”
“...It checks out sir but…”
“What is it, lieutenant?”
“It’s from the Sector 13 Fleet… They’ve been registered as KIA for months.”
“Let’s chalk it up to them being a survivor and a miracle. Bring them in.”
Several minutes later, Federation bomber J5-231 “Jester” arrived at the Last Stand and delivered a full debriefing. Officers were amazed at the combat logs and testimonies of the crew. One single ship had survived all alone behind enemy lines for months on nothing but sheer determination and stubbornness, waging a guerrilla war the entire time. If there had been more time, the Jester and its crew would have been propped up as symbols of the Federation fighting to preserve the peace and unity amongst all species across the galaxy.
There was however the most recent log that was...confusing. Readings about exotic energies, the laws of physics being violated multiple times over, strange unregistered beings, the Jester being refurbished to factory conditions without a blemish on its hull, a flying tank, and a very bizarre space station. Even by their own admittance to the absence without leave, the crew were unable to fully explain everything outside of it being the strangest place they had ever visited. Medical scans showed the crew were in better mental health than most and that there were no signs of substance abuse anywhere.
But the mystery would have to be ignored as an hour after the Jester arrived a report came in. Admiral Tulley had received confirmation of a critical flaw within the Rebellion that could bring about an eleventh hour victory for the Federation. There was also confirmation that the Rebel Flagship was heading straight for the last Federation stronghold and that all flotillas were needed to buy time to stop it. The Jester was dispatched to fly cover for the main counterattack on the Rebels alongside other veteran fighters and bombers.
Just before the Jester was sent out the Jester’s chief engineering officer, an ensign Andy Ranton, was recorded complaining about “not having that headache of a man or those toothbrush fearing nightmare things to help us.” Given the unusual nature of the Jester’s return, the comment was filled along with all other evidence to be reviewed later by a special committee.