Being an on-the-scenes reporter is tough

Being an on-the-scenes reporter is tough enough, but with as many restraining orders as I have, it's nearly impossible. "As you can see, 501 feet behind me, the new animal hospital

was totally destroyed,but we have information that the little bugs are OK."The reporter seemed afraid of something even though the situation was under control

of the Galactic Overlords, so what could go wrong? Then I saw something I hadn't seen since my Indoctrination. The reporter had pupils; he wasn't one of us. "Guards!" "Get him!"

The guards were gone. Their lances lay on the floor. The guards were in a tavern, drinking. "Man, you were right, taking the day off was the best thing ever." The guards chewed the

grissly remains of bear on a rack, a light snack to accompany the mead they quaffed. The guardsmen wre just dosing off when the headguard shot in. "You fools! The Amazons have

destroyed the Death Star!" John leapt to his feet and ran to the window. "Holy smokes," he exclaimed, "They're heading this way!" He bent down, exposing his hairy arse and tied his

ankles together. Tonight was the night that it all had to happen. Twenty years in the making and a simple space battle wouldn't ruin these plans. John went feet first

Space battles have a way of doing that to you the sergeant mused as he looked at the hole in his security net. Oh well, a quick stitch, a push of a button and the net would be good

as the ratty second-hand ones their budget equipped them with. He sighed and reached for the fleet intercom. "This is a staff announcement, we need a cleanup on asteroid belt 3."