#5 -- Nepharia's Photo Session

My first sitting with one of Jay’s photographers was a disaster.

I didn’t want to be there and quite frankly, I don’t think he did either. He kept flinching every time I made a sudden movement. Needless to say, the proofs turned out horribly:



Finally, my photographer’s immediate mentor walked in and perused over these proofs.

”Oh, mein Gott! Das ist Scheiße!” he shouted, tearing up the proofs and looking up at the entire photography crew. He put one hand on his hip, held up the torn proofs, and demanded, “Who shot zeze?”

My photographer raised his hand.

”Get out und tek your nesty pictuurs mit du!” he screamed throwing the pieces at him. He calmed down a bit, straightened his jacket, and walked over to me.

He eyed me over very carefully, taking my chin and turning my head this way and that, with an occasional “uh ha, uh ha”. He fingered my hair as if to find something alive in it then walked around me before stopping again in front of me. He finally brightened considerably, snapped his heels, and held out his hand in welcome



“Gutten tag,” he said. I took his hand and shook it. “I em Hans Volkshutters,” he said with a thick German accent. “I understand you are a Siz Lord, ja?”

I just nodded.

”Mmmm,” he said. “I sink vee can do a little better zan zat,” he motioned in the direction of the photographer that just left. He looked off to the crew and snapped his fingers: three people appeared at his side.

”Take her avay and mek her beeeutifool,” he said, making a “shoo shoo” gesture with one of his hands.

”Listen, I’m exhausted, can’t we do this tomorrow?” I asked.

He looked at me thinking a moment, tapping his chin then asked. “Perhaps you need a little inspiration?”

I scowled. “What type of inspiration?”

”Bring in ze BeckHAM!” he yelled. “Will zis do?”


(gratuitous beefcake shot for us ladies)

”Absolutely!” I said.

David and I were bustled out of the room and to a salon where I was dyed and combed and trussed and made up and perfumed and so on. At the end of it I felt like one of those fine tea cakes at a party that you are afraid to eat.

After a few more sets in front of the camera, I thought we were about done. But once again, I saw Hans looking at the initial proofs and shaking his head.




“Nein, nein,” he said over and over again as he looked through them all. I thought they were great, but he looked at me.

”What’s wrong with them?” I asked, picking up one and looking at it.



I was tired and ready for it to be over. He came over to me and took me by the shoulders.

”You are Siz Lord, ja?” he asked. Again I nodded.

”You are power….und strength….not zis….zis….sex kitten….wis all zees skin” he stammered. “Everyvon already knowz you are a tigress in ze bedroom….”

”What do you mean everyone already knows?” I asked, taking to my feet and putting my hands on my hips.

”Vell….vord gets arount, you know?” he smiled sheepishly. He sidled up to me and nudged me with his elbow, raising his eyebrows a bit. “Zese gladiators talk, you know?”

”Zo,” he said quickly changing the subject, “What ve vant to do eez to show a softer side of ze Siz, but one that is also powerful. Ja?”

”What did you have in mind?” I asked, giving him a sideways glance.

He became visibly excited at this and clapped his hands together. “Oh, I am zo glet you esked….” And he dragged me off into the salon where we spent more time and effort working on my appearance. Except he had the mirrors removed from the room and would not let me see myself before hand.

I was not especially happy about the clothes picked out for me, but he and the rest of the crew seemed quite pleased.

One more photo session later and I was totally exhausted. I collapsed on the floor in my dressing room and was immediately handed some type of alcoholic drink. I quickly downed it and sat the glass down and took a heavy sigh.

Shortly after that, Hans walked into my room and sees me there. Quickly ducking back out to retrieve his camera, she snapped a quick shot of me on the floor. Putting the camera around his neck, he held his hand out to help me off the floor.

”Come,” he said, “I sink you vill like zees much better.”

He took me to the light table and showed me the first proofs of our sessions, leaving me a lone. He was right….he did a phenomenal job:





But then he walked over and handed me the quick snap he took of me just a few minutes before.

”I sink zees vill do,” he said as he passed it to me.

#4 -- Nepharia's Crack at Kobayashi Maru

I was given a rather new star ship called the USS Silicimilitus with a rather generic crew: I didn’t know anyone on board. But that may have been for the best.



We were going through our part of the galaxy, fighting off what looked like chocolate covered raisins. We managed to keep them at bay with our photon torpedoes, but there were just too many of the little buggers.

The engineer looked up from his console and exclaimed, “Captain, we’re all out of torpedoes!”

These small beings continued to approach the ship’s hull. In an attempt to keep them away from the ship, I ordered “Shields up!”

”Aye, Captain,” my tactical officer responded as he poured over his console.

But the raisins continue throwing themselves at our hull. They managed to cut through and into the engineering decks.

As air was sucked slowly into space, another larger raisin clogged the hole by throwing his body into the breach. The rest of the raisins started stoning the engineering crew unconscious and started after the engines.

Back on the bridge, my engineer realized we were in some serious trouble. He stood up straight from his engineering panel and faced me. “Captain, I’m sorry, but we have no choice, we must use them!”

I shook my head and rubbed my forehead. “Are you sure?” I asked. “It gives me a total headache – to say nothing of the paperwork.”

He shook his head apologetically. “It’s all we have left.”

”But they are only for desperate situations,” I said.

”I’d say this is pretty desperate, Captain,” he answered, pointing at all the warnings going off on our panels.

I sighed wearily in resignation. ”Ok, let’s do it,” I responded after a momentary pause. “Send in VanHalen.”



At this time, VanHalen was released from a secret compartment where they were kept for safe keeping. And not even doing a sound a check, they began rocking the engineering deck with the solo from Eruption.

It wasn’t three notes and the raisins began writhing in pain and in less than a minute, they began blowing up.

As the engineering crew began waking up to the sounds of Eddie’s solo, they found themselves covered in dead raisin goo. It was quite a task of cleaning Engineering and patching the hull. But they seemed not to mind with the rockin’ sounds of a VanHalen encore.

Later, on the bridge, while slogging through the associated “Emergency Rock Band Use Extension 5479(c)(1)” form, the command crew sat around with nothing to do.

But then, the communications officer lifted her head and piped up: “Captain, I’m receiving a message on the distress channel. “

”Put it on speakers, lieutenant.” I reply. A foreign voice crackled over the speakers:

“…Imperative!...This is the Kobayashi Maru, nineteen periods... out of Altair Six...We have struck...a gravitic mine...and have lost all power….Our hull is penetrated and we have sustained many casualties…”

The lieutenant responded, trying to hail them again. “This is This is the Starship Silicimilitus . Your message is breaking up. Can you give us your coordinates? Repeat. This is the Starship...”

“…Silicimilitus , our position is Gamma…Hydra, Section Ten...Hull...penetrated, life support... systems failing...Can you assist us...Silicimilitus?...Can you assist us?!

“Punch up data on the Kobayashi Maru,” I say.

“Subject vessel is a third class neutronic fuel carrier created for a fictional scenario within a Star Fleet Academy training exercise. No known vessel actually exists.”

“What?” I exclaim.

”It appears this may be a trap, Captain,” my science officer explained.

"Or a practical joke," I added.

Rubbing my chin, I look at the communication’s officer, ”Lieutenant, tell the ship that we are experiencing a power drop off and that we will get there as soon as we can,” I said. “Then we'll figure out what to do.”

******************

”Yes,” I said to my command officers, “I believe you are right.” I turned to face the screen, looking at Neutral Zone sitting before us. “And while I don’t really like using them, I must admit they are quite effective: put Van Halen on a shuttle and send them to the Kobayashi Maru.”

It was not very long and Eddie, David and the rest of the band members had been prepped, briefed and put on their way.

Some time later, we received a hail from some incoming ships.

”It’s four galaxy class cruisers: Enterprise, Glamdring, Essex and Falcon,” she answered.

I looked at her strangely then to rest of the command officers. “I thought we were the only ship in this sector? That’s what they said, right?”

”Yes, Captain,” my science officer responded. “But I think they secretly sent us with some backup just in case we got into some trouble.”

I just nodded and smiled out of one corner of my mouth. “Yeah, I’m definitely going to get into some trouble,” I said under my breath. “Put them on the screen, Lieutenant. “

On the screen came the pleasant face of Jean-Luc Picard, “Captain…er…Nepharia, we are here to render whatever aid you might need,” he said.

”Hi Jean-Luc,” I responded, smiling equally as pleasant. “How nice to see you again. Drew short straws for babysitting duty, did you?”

”Ah, well,” he stammered, “truth be told, I volunteered.”

I did not conceal my pleasant surprise at his admission. “Really now? Why is that?” I said, still smiling.

”To be honest, Nepharia,” he answered, “I knew you’d be spoiling for a fight and would probably be more than happy to go looking for one.”

”Aw, Jean-Luc,” I chided, “I didn’t know you cared.”

”I know you can handle yourself, Nepharia,” he explained, “But your crew may be less responsive than others you are accustomed to.”

I smiled again and was about to say something, when I was interrupted by my communications officers. I noticed that Data also interrupted Jean-Luc with news about an incoming hail.

I turned to the Lieutenant in question. “Captain, we are receiving an incoming transmission from the Kobayashi Maru.”

”On screen,” I answered, wondering what it could be. The pleasant face of Jean-Luc was replaced by an astonishing scene.

”Good heavens, Nepharia,” Jean-Luc said over the speakers, “What in Neptune is that?”

I offered a wide smile. “That would be Van Halen,” I answered.

”Oh, no,” he replied, disappointed. “You honestly didn’t use them, did you? You’ll be buried in paperwork for weeks!” he said.

”Absolutely,” I said, “And they’ve whipped those Klingon’s into a frenzy. I’d say it’s time to go in, beam the band out, and start kicking some Klingon ass.”

”Nepharia….” Jean-Luc began, but was interrupted by Worf.

”Nepharia,” the Klingon warrior said, “If a Klingon sought to bait you into a fight with the Kobayashi Maru trick, then you owe it to him to kick his ass.”

I looked at Captain Picard, who sighed in resignation. “What are your orders, Captain?”

”Follow me,” I said.

It was a blood bath. And a good day for Klingons to die. I bet they don’t try that again for a while.

LGS #3: Heeeeeere Mousie, Mousie, Mousie...

I arrived late for the group briefing. Xavier and Kon both looked at me as I stepped in.


”Ah good,” Xavier began; “Now we’re only missing one of the team.”

I coughed and cleared my throat as I took my seat. “Oh,” I piped up, “Erifia told me that she wasn’t going to make it and to start without her.”

Xavier looked at me and squinted. “Nepharia, I sense that you are not telling the entire truth.”

”You’re right,” I answered. “That’s not anywhere near the truth.”

”So where is Erifia?” Kon asked, sitting forward in his chair.

”Well, to be totally honest, I’m not sure,” I answered. “I told her to meet us at Fire Island near the house – but that we weren’t going to be getting started until later today.” I smiled cheerfully.

Xavier covered his eyes with his hand momentarily in what appeared to be despair. Kon actually laughed out loud, but quickly stifled it when Xavier shot him a sharp glance.

Xavier looked at me, not a little unhappy. “Fine,” he said, “Let’s get started then.”

We began a brainstorming session on how to manage the rodent problem at the house. I personally would have loved to just set the entire place on fire, but Xavier reminded me that we were supposed to build a mousetrap to capture them while keeping the house intact. Although I’m not exactly sure that was a stipulation of the challenge.

Kon suggested several great things, of which my favorite was, giant space cats or something to that effect.

”The challenge is to build a trap to capture them, Kon, not have them eaten,” Xavier corrected.

”It’s all semantics,” I said. “Jon wants the mice gone, does it matter how we do it? Besides,” I continued, “I’ve seen some of the traps that were left out there by others, and they didn’t have the intended results either.”

Xavier pulled out the paper with the challenge on it. “It clearly says here ‘Your job is to invent a new space mousetrap, catch all those little buggers that you can!’ “

He looked up at me, shaking the paper in my face. “We will not have you attempting to cheat again this round,” he glared at me. “Especially when it can potentially harm the other contestants – is that clear?”

I was rather surprised by his reaction, but figured I might have been a little too rough with him during our post-challenge #2 festivities.

”Ok, fine,” I said, putting my hands up defensively. “So do you have any ideas?” I asked finally.

”Well, it just so happens that I think we can create a small worm hole that will suck them all in,” he said. “Here are the parts we will need,” and he passed us another paper with a short parts lists.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “So if you had this idea already, why didn’t you bring it up before you shot down ours?”

”Well,” he said, “I wanted you both to think you could intelligently contribute to the conversation.”

I rolled my eyes and looked back at him. “Fine,” I said in disgust. “What is it you want me to get?”

”You can get the anti-matter that we’ll need,” he directed. I shook my head and headed out the door.

Where the hell am I going to find anti-matter? I thought. We haven’t used anti-matter in over a millennium.

Then it occurred to me: the Starship Enterprise uses anti-matter in its engines. Bingo! I would have to go back to the future to obtain a small sample.

Pulling out my portable flux capacitor, I installed it on my ship and set the time and coordinates for the year 2153. While the Enterprise of that era had lower grade antimatter and less of it than later iterations of the ship with the same name, they were also less capable of detecting my activities in their engine room.

After the required pleasantries of meeting the officers, dinner, and a complete tour of the ship, I was showed guest quarters and left alone. I donned a stealth field generator and slipped from my cabin.

After getting lost several times around the ship, I did manage to finally find the engine room. I discovered the anti-matter containment area and figured these humans have never had their fuel siphoned before; otherwise, they would have kept a locked fuel cap.

I managed to get a better part of their anti-matter and place it in a secret panel upon my ship. I returned to my quarters and finished out the night with some sleep.

Then next “day” I went to the bridge to thank my hosts and bid them goodbye when I found the captain rather upset.

Captain Archer was leaning over a panel and tapping the anti-matter gauge. “Gees, guys, we just filled up! I can’t afford to fill up every time you go joy riding about the galaxy.”

I whispered to Commander Tucker, “He seems to be rather unhappy today.”

“Yeah, it seems all this starting and stopping is affecting our mileage,” he mumbled back.

”I believe it is time that I leave,” I responded. “Please let your captain know I appreciate his hospitality.”

I made a quick beeline back to the landing bay and a quick escape before they could figure out where their fuel had gone. Making a quick landing back on Hacknor I met the others at the house on Fire Island.

”Why didn’t you just go to the Hacknor Space Academy?” Kon asked me. “They keep plenty of it there.”

I smacked my head then threw the container to Xavier.

Ch2: Mutants on the Bounty....er Executive

I like Xavier. I especially like his haircut. With his advanced telepathic abilities, he was able to create a high-quality blueprint of the Executive so we at least had a roadmap of the territory we were going into.



However, for a telepath, he’s not the most observant person I’ve met. I mean, let’s take Erefia: she hates me. I can understand why: she is a Jedi and I am a Sith – it’s just the way of things. I once tried to turn her to the dark side, and would have succeeded were it not for the fact that she wanted to return to the Jedi order, confused as she was at the time.

But all that aside, we definitely have some history. During our team briefing, when the plans were discussed and explained, Erifia glared at me the whole time. And being the Sith that I am, I returned the favor in kind.

At the end of the briefing, however, Xavier decided that the teams were going to be divided by gender: girls, boys, and genocidal robots. Girls have the bridge, boys have the engine room, and the robots….well, Gyrobo could do whatever the hell he wanted.

Erifia looked about as happy about the arrangement as I did: she wasn’t. But in the name of the gladiatorial competition, we bit our tongues and moved forward.

Erifia said she didn’t have enough fuel in her ship to take it and said we had to take mine – and she didn’t even offer to pay for some of the gas. Just like Jedi: they are all just so cheap – the Temple doesn’t pay squat.

However, as we approached the Executive, it was almost as if they were expecting us: one of the landing bays was left open and unprotected. It was way too easy.

It wasn’t until we left the docking area did we find out the ship was under an advanced alert. Someone had told them we were coming and I was sure it was those Malfians.

We finally encountered a large group of soldiers on our way to the bridge. Our main defense was to deflect their blaster fire back at them with a more direct approach for those that got within saber range.

In our spare moments, we took pot shots at one another: it was a lot of fun. I think Erifia took it a little too seriously because she force shoved a group of soldiers in my direction after I sucker punched her in the middle of what she referred to as a “graceful maneuver.” Those Jedi: it’s always form over function with them.

Getting to the bridge was actually a great deal of fun – a lot of work, but I felt a sense of accomplishment when we got there.

The person at the helm was an interesting looking specimen: I’d seen characters like him at pod races in the Hutt box seats. After discovering neither of us had green eyes, he became incensed and summoned these warriors that reminded me a lot of Jedi, except they didn’t have light sabers, just some metal swords that were of no use. They were dispatched with a little force lighting, knocking them all back.

”You could learn to do that also if you would return to the dark side,” I told Erifia, then smiled wide. “Our benefits are even better now: we have cookies.”

A few of the warriors started waking up again and Erifia took up a defensive pose, “No, I’m good – literally – and I’m going to stay here.” She did a roundhouse kick on the first warrior that approached her, knocking him cold. A second was behind Erifia and I threw my saber at him: Erifia ducked just in time for me to take him out. It’s a shame she declined my offer, I think we work well together.

The strange-looking man at the helm appeared to have his own Force powers, as I saw a burst of light come from his mouth aimed at Erifia. She nimbly jumped out of the way and up to a light protruding from the ceiling. When the man fired light at her again, she dropped, landing on him and then began beating the living daylights out of him until he lay battered and unconscious. It’s a crying shame, indeed, she declined becoming my apprentice.

I heaved a sigh and moved to the empty helm console. “You know,” I began as I used the console to maneuver the ship into position, “If we took out the Invisible Gland, we could make this gladiatorial competition a lot easier.”

She stood up once again and put her hands on her hips. “You know, Nepharia, that’s the first thing you’ve said all night that I actually agree with.” We both smiled.

Moving to the weapons console, I heard something. Nepharia….

I stopped a moment and looked at Erifia. She looked at me and asked “What are you waiting for?”

Nepharia, I sense you are planning on doing something foolish. It was Xavier.

Well aren’t you just the sensitive little telepath, I thought back. I thought about eliminating the competition, if you must know.

While I admit that getting rid of the Malfians would rid the blogging universe of a certain amount of insanity, it may disqualify you as a gladiator, he thought.

Do you honestly think that a little thing like being disqualified as a gladiator would stop me from wonton killing? I asked.

Well….no, but I thought I’d give it a try….he responded. How about we discuss this later after we get back to the gladiators’ dorm?

How about we go back to the gladiators’ dorm and play Master and Apprentice? I suggested.

Long pause.

I’m game, so long as you don’t destroy the other ship, he finally thought.

Nice try, I thought before reaching out and pressing the launch button on the weapons console. Except nothing happened. I ran to the communications console and hailed the weapons section, but it came up on caller ID as “Galley”.

“This is Nepharia, Erefia and I are on the bridge – we need weapons control now!”

“Why?” I heard a strangely familiar voice answer

”Because we’re coming under attack,” I answered. “Who is this?”

”It’s Gyrobo,” he answered indignantly. “I didn’t hear any attacks,” he said.

”Dammit, Gyrobo, give me weapons control now!” I yelled into the comm, grabbing the sides of the terminal.

”I can’t,” he answered calmly; “I took them offline.”

”You what!?” I screamed, squeezing the terminal so hard a piece of it broke off in my hand. “Why on earth would you do that?” I asked, tossing the broken piece to the deck.

”Why, I’m baking a soufflé and I didn’t want it to fall,” he answered as if it made perfect sense.

I don’t remember destroying the communications panel, just the smell of freshly burnt electronics.

Xavier, I hope you enjoy playing an apprentice, I thought as I left the bridge