Welcome to the Journal of Now and Forever. This Journal is a collection of my Star Control and Star Control 2 fiction. Note: Some of this material is, by necessity, extrapolation from the slim information provided by canon sources.

New fiction is posted first at My Livejournal before it appears here. This story is in response to 15 Minute Ficlets' Challenge #83.

It was almost the end of the year, and Otto wouldn't have remembered it was nearly Christmas if not for the fact that one of his crewmates was a religious, and happened to mention it within Otto's earshot.

Otto didn't feel one way or the other toward the religious, especially not when he was blissed out in hyperspace. Decades stretched out behind him, the prospect of more of the same lay ahead; the feeling had never grown old, never dimmed, no matter how many trips he'd made, how many months (no, years) of his life he'd spent nearly wanting to shriek and cry from the beauty it made him feel. He remembered stories of ecstasy from those long-ago days on Earth, but nothing, he guessed, could compare with this.

The quarks still traveled 'northwest,' toward the galactic core. Someday – maybe decades from now – he'd like to find out what was there, what the quarks were. There was talk that soon there'd be another trip back to Sol system, to see if any Earthlings were venturing from the safety of their planet. It'd been eight long years since Otto had made that trip. He knew he'd be tapped for it again this time, was certain of it.

This patrol was made up of three ships including Otto's, and so far, as on every other patrol, they'd found nothing out of the ordinary. They all knew this was for the best, because anything out of the ordinary would be very, very problematic.

"Stand by for truespace," the navigator said. "Arriving at Alpha Vulpeculae gravity well."

Stars' gravity caused 'drops' in hyperspace – the gravity wells were strong enough to pull ships out of hyperspace and back into truespace. Once in-system –

The mission leader spoke. "On mark... drop."

Otto brought the ship close enough to the gravity well that it pulled all three Guardian-class vessels down from the pulsing red into the star-flecked black, and they cut the hyperdrives' power down, switching to cruise mode.

Almost instantly, they saw bright energy points on the displays, first circling about Alpha Vulpeculae proper, then changing course and approaching.

"Oh my God." It was Lane, the religious. For once, Otto had to agree with the sentiment, if not the words. "It's, they're – "

They were five huge ships, each one dwarfing the Guardians, each one leaf-green and bristling with weaponry, the lot approaching with remarkable speed. Aliens. Unless the Earthlings had finally gotten their act together –

Otto froze. The probe! - But they'd destroyed it, the crew of the Micromanager, they'd destroyed the probe that had said it came in peace, and then attacked them. So no, this couldn't be the same race, could it?

"Open communications!" said Axel, the patrol's mission leader. Immediately questions from the other ships channeled through the cockpit speakers: "Are you insane?" "Look at those things, they're gonna – "

One of the other ships, the Gargoyle, turned to flee, to escape back to hyperspace. "Dammit, Russ!" Axel shouted. "You want to lead 'em home?"

{Launch Fighters

One of the green ships spat out smaller, nimble bullets that homed in on Gargoyle. Otto wondered briefly why the big ship would even announce such a thing, except to maybe let the enemy know who was operating from such a position of strength that they could afford to announce its attacks. Then he came to himself and heeled his ship away from Gargoyle, without waiting for Axel's permission.

Gargoyle tried to evade, tried to go cometform as the bullet-ships harassed the Guardian, scoring its sides with repeated hits.

"Russ, surrender!" Axel yelled. The rest of the crew stared at their mission leader. Axel spoke again before anyone could question him: "They won't make it. We're outnumbered, outgunned. And – I think they've fought things before."

Otto heard the unspoken addition: And we haven't. One probe notwithstanding, the Androsynth fleet had never faced battle.

The bullet-ships returned to their mothership, as –

{Launch Fighters

{Launch Fighters

- two more of the green behemoths spat out bullets of their own. Otto looked briefly at Gargoyle; the ship drifted in space, power cut. There were still signs of life on board, but it didn't appear the Guardian would be battle-worthy without serious repairs.

"Open communications," Axel said, and coughed nervously. "Alien vessels, if you can understand me, please abort your attack! We –"

"Surrender. Now."

The words felt hammered into Otto's head from the inside of his skull, malevolence and strength and discipline, and he wondered if he'd heard the words or if they had just come into his brain of their own accord.

"We. Are the Ur-Quan. Surrender. Or Die."

Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com