I should note, knowledge of Zeldathon is kind of required for understanding even a few paragraphs of this. >.>
A Zeldathon Adventure in SPACE!
“WHERE IS MY PILOT?” Captain Major MC shouted. “THE AUTO-PILOT IS DERPING AND WE’RE HEADED FOR AN ASTEROID BELT.”
“Coming, Captain Major, coming,” TB muttered harriedly as he strode over to the piloting command station. “Oh, what if we run out of fuel in the middle of the asteroids? There’s no telling how long it’ll hold out, the donations are too random!”
He flicked a pair of switches and said, “Auto-pilot, disengage.”
“Trust in the donors, TB, trust in the chat. They’ll keep up going until Planet 100k. We must trust that they won’t let us crash,” the Captain Major said to reassure the worried pilot. He was much happier with a human at the helm. Never trusted that auto-pilot, anyway, it always tried to steer them to the nearest Space Papa Johns, rather than Space Dominos.
Chief Scientist Scott raised his hand, “permission to speak, Captain Major, but this seems like a lot of trust to be putting in a conglomerate hive-mind like the chat. They are made of a piece of the Internet, after all. The MODS program is still in development, do you think they’ll be enough to contain any rogue trolls?”
“Well, Chief Scientist Scott, MODS is your brainchild, what do you think?” Captain Major MC asked.
“My idea is sound,” Chief Scientist Scott replied with an indignant sniff. “Chief Engineer 0rganics’ coding, too. But it’s not done, and a single troll could decimate chat for minutes! Minutes we won’t have in the middle of an asteroid belt.”
“Chief Scientist Scott, Chief Engineer 0rganics tells me to send you his gratitude for the compliment, and his reassurance that MODS will keep the chat safe for donors like this one! Your Username Here has just donated $10, thank you very much. TB, there’s another can of seawater for the fusion drives, and a few more atoms of antimatter for warp drives. See, buddy? We’ll be fine.”
“Oh, shut up, Communications Officer Tepe.”
“Get your pew pews ready, Security Officer Jarren. We’ve got a cancerous mass at 1 o’clock,” Navigator Kay reported, turning the bridge serious.
Security Officer Jarren gently set down his ukulele, leaning into his command station’s screen. “Target sighted, target lock commencing in 3… 2… 1… Target locked, permission to fire, Captain Major?”
“Permission granted, take the shot.”
“Pewpew! Pewpew! Pewpew! C’mon guys, I did the work of locking on, least you can do it help me shoot it. Pewpew!”
The bridge broke into cheers, but not for long. While they’d been heroically pewpewing, the SS Zeldathon had entered the previously mentioned asteroid belt.
“Alright, guys, alright. Quiet down now, we need to let TB and Kay concentrate. We need to protect Streamer Andy and escort him to the end of his run,” Captain Major MC said, moving his hands in a ‘peace, peace’ gesture.
“Security Officer Brook, raise shields at low power, Engineering Officer Mike is standing by at the auxiliary reactor in case of an emergency,” First Officer Keri said, glad the pewpews had ended. There was such a thing as too much dakka, no matter how much Security Officer Jarren claimed otherwise.
They waited, enough tension floating about to thicken the air to approximately the consistency of butter.
“Donation received from Another Username of Your Choice for $20, thank you very much.”
TB breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but every little bit helped, even on a starship of the SS Zeldathon’s size. Asteroids were nothing to laugh at. Giant chunks of rock flying through space rarely were. He dipped the ship beneath one, threw it into a spin (hehe, poor Major Wilco hated those) to avoid another.
“Got another donation for us, Communications Officer Tepe?” he asked lightly, hoping that the answer was a resounding yes.
“Actually, we do, thanks for asking TB! A $30 donation just came in from Your Dearest Friend’s Username, thank you, thank you! Aaaaaaand that’s a wheelspin,” Communications Officer Tepe opened the goal wheel channel. “Wheelspin time! Lieutenant Liz, spin. That. Wheel!”
A chorus of ticks echoed through the bridge as the wheel of destiny spun its design. As they petered out, there was a brief silence, before Lieutenant Liz’s voice came through the speaker. “Hatstack.”
“Streamer Andy, a hatstack has been spun, don the hats!” Communications Officer Tepe cried gleefully. “And Security Officer Jarren, I think I see a pewpewable object approaching. Do your thing!”
TB blocked them out the best he could, pewpewable objects were not his concern. The speeding hunks of rock in their path, however, were, and he should really get back to that. They were almost through the belt, if their fuel just lasted a little bit longer… Lack of fuel in dead space was not as bad as lack of fuel in the middle of an asteroid belt.
“We’re trusting you, chat, get us through this!”
“A $10.01 donation from Your Worst Enemy’s Username, go go Team Palindrome, and a $5 donation from That Strange Collection of Letters and Numbers. Thanks so much, and good to know the train is getting a little coal to keep it running, too.”
“We need you, chat, you’ve kept us flying for $80000, don’t let it end here, crushed to death by an asteroid!”
“$15 from Anonymous, we love you lots!”
“Yeoman Poptart, get Yeoman Choco. We may need auxiliary steering to clear the last of this.”
“Oh my lovely chat, there’s another $10 from Some Really Nice Person, thank you for keeping us alive!”
“Science Officers Jim and Alex, get that prototype Coebot back online, and fetch Lieutenant Abra, he’s needed at the ops station.”
“Engineering predicts we need only $40 more to make it through, we’re so close, chat, so close!”
“A $50 donation from Someone BLESSable! We’re gonna clear this by a parsec, TB, don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
“Shut up, Communications Officer Tepe, go call your girlfriend."
“But she’ll just tell me to shut up too…”
“We’re through, we’re through!” Captain Major MC announced, leaping up from his chair in his joy. “TB, Kay, you god and goddess! Take a bow, and chat thank you so much for your wonderful donations, they keep us flying and pewpewing our way to Planet 100k. Remember, it’s for the children!”
I don't even. Just go watch Zeldathon. It's LateNightCrew, so lots of giggles and weird stuff.