HomerWorld

[SephirCloud]

Here's a total reposting of HomerWorld for all you ppls who didn't go to HWU to see the new chapters.

Here's the intro/prologue, by the way.

HomerWorld: Prologue/Introduction

This is a story about the Hiigaran Exodus, and what would happen if Homer Simpson had joined the quest. But it’s more than just that. It’s also a story that lets you get to know everybody just a little bit better. Like Greg and Darryl, the neighborhood Bentusi’s, Bob Smith, the friendliest religious fanatic you’ll ever meet, the Fleet Admirals, and of course, Homer Simpson. So read with an open mind, and enjoy.

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 1-Before Homer

This was the day. The BIG DAY. The day when the Mothership would launch, and perform its hyperspace test.
“Karan, darling, I’ll miss you,” said her boyfriend, Rith Nabaal.
“Oh, honey, don’t be silly,” spoke Karan through all 834 of the ship’s speakers, “You’ll be only 60 or so kilometers away from me in the cryo-trays.”
Rith sighed, and said, “I know, but still… it just doesn’t seem right. I mean, you’re butt-naked right now, and attached to a whole bunch of wiring… who knows what Fleet Intelligence might do?” His voiced echoed through the dark metal walls, being amplified by the numerous wires which, as he described, were attached to various parts of Karan Sjet. He couldn’t believe it. His girlfriend, completely naked for all the personal aboard the Mothership to see. True, the tubes and wires moved around often, but they couldn’t be relied upon to always stay in nipple covering position… Suddenly, a voice interrupted their conversation.
“We will be beginning our formations, tactics, salvage, and hyperspace tests in one hour. I repeat, one hour.” droned the voice of Fleet Intelligence. Then, in a slightly more dryer voice, it continued, “And get that bum Rith Nabaal out of Karan Sjet’s chamber.”

After the ambassadorial corvette, freshly painted, delivered Rith to the massive sheets of the cryo-trays, the tests began. Admiral Biete-Mee peered out his viewscreen, and looked into the depths of space. Mostly black, with tiny, glittering specks of stars scattered throughout. Farther down, he saw the cryo-trays, and then Kharak. His home, or so he had though. When he’d first heard about the discovery of the Guidestone, he never really believed that their race would have done anything about it. But look at him now, one of the three Fleet Admirals of the Mothership, along with Admiral Uup-yuurs and Admiral Fok-Yu. He’d started off as a construction worker, doing the finishing touches on the Scaffold, then promoted to stock manager. Ah, those were the days, he still remembered how that security guard had seduced him in the resource collector…
Now, the time for reminiscing was over, and looked down at his Mission Objectives screen.

Primary:
1. Harvest asteroids.

That was easy enough. He’d let Admiral Fok-Yu handle it, taking the good jobs would make himself look better.
“Admiral Fok-Yu, will you do the honors of the first objective?”
“Gladly, Biete-Mee,” replied Fok-Yu.
Outside, the harvester spun out of the construction bay, smashed into the scaffold, scraping off several layers of armour and exposing some internal circuitry, then continued to harvest the nearby dust clouds.
Biete-Mee nodded. “Great work, pal. Great work.”
“I know,” replied Fok-Yu, “I can’t help but be perfect.”
Then, Biete-Mee looked down at the next objective

2. Construct a Research Ship

He decided to do the job himself. With a single click of the turbo-mega-future mouse, he clicked on the lower section of his computer screen, and opened up the Research Manager. Now, the time would come. He’d finally be able to do something for the greater good of the Kushani! He shifted his mouse closer, closer, to the line which read, “Research Station.” He clenched his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he looked at the screen in shock. The area he was about to click read, “@*#*&%@#)@|><.” He’d forgotten how to read! He clenched his eyes shut again, and when he reopened them, it was normal again. Behind him, he heard the rather impatient voice of Admiral Uup-Yuurs.
“Having any… problems?” asked Uup-Yuurs dryly.
“None at all, none at all!” stammered Biete-Mee
Why him? Why did he have to go into a complete nervous breakdown just then? Calmer now, he clicked on the Begin Construction icon, and the sexy voice of Fleet Command said, “Well done. Research Station is now being constructed. That only took 23.4 minutes.” In the background, he could hear both Uup-Yuurs and Fok-Yu clapping. He turned around, his face pale, his lips stretched in a strange, wild smile, and uniform drenched with sweat. He quickly bowed, and sat back in his seat.
“Well, I think I’ll be doing the next objective,” sneered Uup-Yuurs.
He hated that stupid Biete-Mee, and had no idea how he became Fleet Admiral. His own father was a businessman, the one who owned the satallite that discovered the Guidestone. He was quickly promoted, so his superiors could stay on him and his father’s good side. Of course, once it got to the point where he was his superior’s superior, he fired them for discrimination. Now, he’d show that fool Biete-Mee. As for Fok-Yu, he seemed alright, though he didn’t know him too well. He looked at the screen.

3. Destroy target drones using a formation.

Too simple. He smoothly pulled out the radio comlink, and opened a connection with the group of fighters.
“GET YOUR ARSES INTO CLAW FORMATION OR YOU’RE ALL FIRED!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. Behind him, Fok-Yu cringed, trying to avoid the flying spittle that flew from the blazing, tomato-red face. How the saliva flew completely backwards was beyond him, but it was still worth avoiding.
Outside, the fighters were all waiting patiently, and in fear, for the next order. Up-Yuurs took a deep breathe, and shouted, “KILL THOSE TARGET DRONES! NOW! KILL!” Immediately, the fighters sped off to the drones, and spun in dizzying maneuvers, destroying the helpless drones one by one. Uup-Yuurs turned around, smiled, and said smugly, “I’d like to congratulate myself on a job well done.”
Now it was Fok-Yu’s turn. Fok-Yu was the sort of guy you could describe in just one word: nondescript. Ever since he’d been born, he was one of the “average” kids. A’s and B’s in training camp, completely normal. He had no opinion about either Uup-Yuurs or Biete-Mee. He had no opinion of the Mothership, the Guidestone, nor did he remember, or care, about how he became Fleet Admiral. His trainers had always said he was a boy to watch out for, and they didn’t mean it in a good way. He looked down at the screen.

4. Destroy target drones using tactics.

Tactics. No problem, he thought. He lifted the radio; it wasn’t a flourished motion like Uup-Yuurs, he simply picked it up. That was all the difference. In a metallic, robotic voice, he said, “Aggressive tactics. Destroy the target drones.”
The scouts flew towards the drones, and began firing, though their maneuvers weren’t quite the same as before.
“This test seems to have gone well,” said Karan. “One more to go.”
Suddenly, Admiral Biete-Mee leaped out of his seat, tripping over the back and smashing his head against the air-conditioner. Staggering up, dripping blood on the brand-new carpet, he moaned, “Lemme… let…I want to do the… urgh… last… ugh.” Then, he fell unconscious onto the lap of Uup-Yuurs, who swiftly shoved him off.
“Yay! I mean, Admiral Uup-Yuurs, please carry him to the medical bay,” said Karan.
Fok-Yu, alone in the room, said quietly to himself, “I believe the last objective and the Secondary objective are mine to complete.”

One hour later, Fleet Admirals Uup-Yuurs and Biete-Mee returned. Biete-Mee, seeing that the only test left was the hyperspace jump, screamed wildly, and leaped at the controls. “That last objective is mine! I will not fail!” This was a matter of honor now. He’d screwed up his first objectives, and got a concussion for his second. He would NOT fail his third, and final one.
“BONSAIIII!” he cried, and pressed the big red button marked, “Scuttle-Do not press twice.”
Fleet Command looked down from it’s cameras in shock, and cried out, “Don’t push that again! Push the green button!”
Fok-Yuu calmly stepped up and pressed the hyperspace button, as Biete-Mee moaned in agony; tears running down his face. “Commencing hyperspace,” said Karan thoughtfully.
The eerie blue glow of hyperspace surrounded the Mothership, and the last words the admirals heard were, “You bastard! I wanted to push that button!”

[Weavern]

Its back .......

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 2-Springfield and Hyperspace

Homer J. Simpson. Quite possibly the most famous cartoon character alive. But few people know that Homer Simpson isn’t really a cartoon character. In one of the United State’s eleven Springfields, lives a man named Homer Simpson. He works at a communications company called TeleStar, checking for defects. He is married to a woman named Nancy Simpson. He has one son, an 18 year old boy named Eric. He is also not the Homer Simpson we’re talking about.
This Homer Simpson is different. For one thing, his skin is yellow. Not malaria-diseased yellow, not Oriental yellow, but bright, primary color yellow. In one of the United State’s eleven Springfields, lives the man we’re talking about. He works at a nuclear power plant for an evil old man named Mr. Burns. He is married to a woman named Marge Simpson, and has two kids, not just one. One is Bart, a juvenile delinquent. The other is Lisa, a genius. And the third and last one is Maggie, who is just a baby.
But you probably already knew that.
And that means two things: He is probably the most famous cartoon character alive, and that I can’t count.
But now, onto the rest of the story…

“Doh!” shouted Homer, as he hit his thumb with a hammer. It was swelling like a condom, or if you want to be politically correct, a balloon.
“Oh, Homie, are you ok?” cooed Marge, as she led him over to the worn down couch, gesturing for him to sit down. “Do you want some tea?”
“No! It hurts too much! But I must be brave!” cried Homer heroically.
At that moment, Bart and Lisa bounded down the stairs over to the couch.
“Whoa, dad, what happened to your thumb?” laughed Bart.
“Shut up! Ohh, it hurts,” moaned Homer.
“Dad, are you all right?” asked Lisa.
“Do I look all right? Do I look all right?!?!” asked Homer in mock rage.
“Homie, just lie down now, I’ll go call the doctor,” said Marge. This had happened before, almost weekly, and nothing truly serious had happened yet. She punched in the number, and waited for someone to pick up the phone.
The doctor answered, “Hello?” Then, a noise in the background said, “Hey! Doc! Where are you going?”
“Well, Homer’s hit his thumb with the hammer again, and well, I’d just like you to—”
“AAGH! It’s coming! Doctor, get off the damn phone and catch my baby!” screamed the voice in the background.
“—to look at it. You know, his thumb,” said Marge nervously.
“Will do, Mrs. Simpso—”
“HURRY UP!”
“Um, shouldn’t you be catching that lady’s baby?” asked Marge.
“Oh, it’s no problem. Everything will go fine,” replied the doctor calmly.
“You bastard! It fell on the floor!” shouted the woman angrily.
“WAAAAA!!!!!”
“Doctor, I really think you should go look at that baby…”
“No, no, Mrs. Simpson. When should we schedule th—”
“WAAAAA”
“I’m gonna sue you!”
“—the appointment?”
“How about this Fri—”
“WAAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAAAAA!!!!”
“I’m calling my lawyer right now!”
“This Friday? Can do, Mrs. Simpson. Alright, see you then. *CLICK*”
“Whew,” sighed Marge, as she walked back to Homer. “The doctor will see you on Friday, so you and your thumb will just have to wait until then.” Bart, now bored, went back upstairs, but Lisa ran up to her mother and pulled on her dress.
“But Mom, if Dad has a broken thumb without a brace or cast, he won’t be able to come to my science fair!” whined Lisa.
“Oh, that’s nonsense,” said Marge, waving away the comment, “They wouldn’t stop people from going to your science fair just because they have a broken thumb.”
“But look at this flyer!” cried Lisa, and shoved it into her mother’s face.

SPRINGFIELD ELEMENTARY SCIENCE FAIR

A bunch of kids will show of science stuff. The winner gets a CASH PRIZE. Come today, parents!*

*Anybody with any untreated broken appendages may not come. Because we said so.

“Well, will you look at that,” said Marge, “He can’t go.”
“But Mom…!” said Lisa. Then, from the doorway, the silhouette of Homer appeared, casting a blimp-like shadow on the floor.
“Fear not, Lisa! I’ll pull in for you and go to your little school thing anyway, it’s educational!” said Homer, in a sad attempt to make his daughter feel better.
“Thank you!” cried Lisa, as he hugged her dad, “The hyperspace generator I’m building is gonna win first prize!”
“Ow! Hey, watch the thumb!”

On the day of the fair, Homer woke up that morning, fresh and ready to go, except for his thumb. He didn’t want to disappoint his daughter, he’d let her down too many times already. He was smart, he knew what to do. Giggling, he donned a gray overcoat and a wide, floppy hat, which concealed his eyes. Then, he put on two pairs of gloves, to hide the way his thumb was bent in the funny angle. Finally, he flipped on some sunglasses, knee high boots, and a belt. Hehehe… damn, was he sly…
Marge groggily got out of bed, rubbing her eyes, when she saw Homer standing in front of the mirror, looking like a complete idiot. “Homer, what the hell are you doing in that ridiculous costume???”
“But Marge, I need it!” whined Homer. “It’s a disguise!”
Marge knew better than to argue, she’d been married to him for who-knows-how long. She couldn’t quite remember why, but that was besides the point. Then, Lisa burst into the room, already dressed, and shouted, “Let’s go, hurry!” Behind her, Bart yawned, and collapsed onto the floor in a deep slumber. After all, a growing boy needs at least 14 hours of sleep.
After a quick breakfast of leftovers of leftovers, the Simpsons got into their car, and began driving to Springfield Elementary. Along the way, signs of the science fair filled the driveways, as kids could be seen trying to fit their Time Machines and Sonic Toothbrushes and their Cat-grinding machines. Lisa looked out the car window, knowing that her Hyperspace Generator would beat all of them, even the Cat-Grinder, which was a favorite for this year’s competition. As a matter of fact, it was a favorite every year, though it hadn’t won even once yet. After all, who couldn’t resist the fun watching teachers and principals trying to strangle and hold down the one poor kid who just wanted to put the cat in the machine?
The time had come for Homer. Now, he could see if his disguise would work. He saw Lisa pass. He saw Marge and Maggie pass. He saw Bart pass. He walked up to the door, which Mr. Smithers was guarding.
“Halt! Who…um… goes there?” asked Mr. Smithers.
“Homer Simpson!” replied Homer.
“Oh, you. Alright, go on in,” said Mr. Smithers. It was a boring job, no need to make it worse by getting into an argument with Simpson…
Homer giggled, and stepped in. It was all too easy… he loved being feared, respected by superiors like Smithers. He jogged up to where the rest of his family was sitting, and sat down, out of breath and winded.
“Where’s Lisa?” he asked.
“Over there, check out her hyperspace generator!” pointed Bart.
Three exhibits to the left of the Time Machine was the Hyperspace Generator. Gleaming and eerie, shiny glow, it towered almost eight feet above the floor. It looked like a doorframe, with thick, plated wires traveling to the base and to the oblong lump of metal on the top. There was even a Welcome mat and a sign that said, “No Solicitors.”
Then, from the loudspeakers, the principal droned, “This fair will start in five minutes, so hurry up.” The judges hustled into place, waiting for the opening speech by Mr. Burns to start. Five minutes past, then ten.
“He’s never gonna come,” spoke up one of the judges. Suddenly, the door burst open, and the frail old figure of Mr. Burns crawled up to the stage and coughed into the mike.
“Er, is this working? Ah, yes, good. Now, everyone, I, Montgomery Burns, welcome you all to the Science Fair, which I am funding. And to do this *cough cough* community good, I will take possession of all the creations of these young, brilliant minds.” The audience burst into applause, which quickly gave way to silence. “And now,” continued Burns, “Are the exhibits!”
The three judges walked through the aisles, carefully judging each and every project, from the Sonic Pez Dispenser to the Powerdered chicken-just add water. When they reached the Hyperspace Generator, Lisa began her speech.
“This is a Hyperspace Generator. It generates a quantum wave—”
Suddenly, Homer leaped up and yelled, “That’s my daughter’s! Woo!” Then, he ran down and handed the judges a five-dollar bill. He discreetly whispered to the judges, then began to go back to his seat, when he tripped over the welcome mat. He slid backwards into the blue haze, and simply disappeared. Disappeared… into the depths of hyperspace.

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 3-Homer and the Khar-Selim

“We are scheduled to arrive at the edge of the Kharak system in forty minutes, and dock with the Khar-Selim, which has been traveling for ten years on conventional drives,” said Fleet Command over the speakers. “Please stow away all your luggage in the overhead bins, bring your seat to its upright position, and put on your seatbelts, for there may be some turbulence during the docking sequence. Please enjoy your flight on Kushani Spacelines.” Little did they know just HOW much turbulence there would be…
The three Fleet Admirals sat around in the Lounge, sipping martinis. The Lounge was a darkened room, with about 30 soft cushy sofas and a nice soft carpet. There was, of course, the drinks cabinet and the bar, which had no bartender, to the joy of the Lounge’s patrons. The Admirals had a good reason to be there though. Hyperspace made them chronically queasy, they didn’t know if it was the way all of reality twisted inside out to the point where they could occasionally see their internal organs, or if it was the way the Mothership shook up and down. Still, for a first jump, it really wasn’t too bad.
“So, um, what do you think will happen once we reach real-space?” asked Admiral Biete-Mee.
“We’ll probably dock, then make a series of completely uneventful jumps to Hiigara,” replied Uup-Yuurs calmly. Then, he shouted, “And if any aliens try to stop us, I’ll rip of their friggin’ heads! No, I’ll bite them off! No, I’ll smash them! No…”
Fok-Yuu twisted his upper torso completely backwards, creating a mechanical whirring noise, as he reached for a whiskey. Biete-Mee stared at the backwards torso in disgust, exclaiming, “Eww! How the hell do you do that!??” Fok-Yuu had previously explained it as a prosthetic chest, but it was still disgusting no matter how you looked at it. I mean, your entire torso spinning like a top. And Fok-Yuu could do the same thing with his head, and his arms, and all his appendages. It was a wonder that people didn’t comment more often. And what was up with Uup-Yuurs? He laughed like a kid with a new toy whenever Fok-Yuu did that. Maybe he was just overreacting because he was in hyperspace. Oh well.
Suddenly, the drinks cabinet burst open, to the shock of two of the three admirals. Fok-Yuu was still calmly pouring his whiskey, but Uup-Yuurs and Biete-Mee pulled out their blasters, and edged towards the counter. Some drunken giggling could be heard from the other side.
Biete-Mee pulled out his portable communicator, and whispered, “Uup-Yuurs, take the left. I’ll come in from above.” Finally, a chance to prove his worthiness by capturing the stowaway, or whatever was on the other side of the counter.
Uup-Yuurs, right next to him, whispered, “I don’t think you need to use the communicator, considering that I’m crouching right next to you… But on the count of three, jump ‘em…”
Biete-Mee nodded. Uup-Yuurs began counting down slowly, then at the same time, the both flipped over the counter and aimed their blaster at the thing which was rolling drunkenly on the carpet, giggling to himself, clutching tightly a bottle of Paktu Beer in his hand.
After Homer entered the hyperspace rift, he fell into a dark room full of bottles. Then, the rift disappeared. He’d always had the worst of luck, like the time when his home got over-run by a motorcycle gang called the Hell’s Satans. But now, his luck had changed, he though gleefully. Much to his joy, the bottles he’d fell on were beer bottles, an unknown brand, but beer nonetheless. He had been drinking for the last half hour, until his brain was a puddle of beery-gray water, and he fell out of the cabinet, onto a soft, red, carpeted floor.
Uup-Yuurs looked at the yellow filth on the floor. It must be an extraterrestrial, this discovery would most definitely get him promoted to Fleet Admiral’s Admiral! But then again, so would Biete-Mee… he’d have to think of a way to get rid of him soon.
“ALIEN SCUM! SURRENDER NOW AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” he screamed. Homer simply continued rolling and giggling.
Biete-Mee scratched his head, and quipped, “Maybe giggling is his language… like hee hee means ‘yes,’, and he he ho means ‘no.’” Then, he looked down at Homer. “Hey, are you an alien and how did you get here?” No response, besides some laughs which were definitely not “hee hee” or “he he ho.”
Then, Karan Sjet’s security camera glanced over at the scene, and she said, “Maybe we should take him to the medical bay… he’s drunk enough to have taken some permanent brain damage… Paktu’s Beer is pretty strong stuff.”
“Miss. Sjet! I didn’t know you drank beer!” exclaimed Biete-Mee.
“Well, it really was Rith more than me,” explained Karan. “Oh yes,” she continued, as if she forgot something, then switched to the main speakers, “The Mothership will be exiting hyperspace in twenty-seven minutes. Enjoy your flight.”

Ten minutes and four buckets of ice-water later, Homer finally returned to consciousness, awakening in a pristine white room with glittering walls, soft tables, and most importantly, lots and lots of sharp little instruments on a white table. He turned his said, and saw two people dressed in uniforms sitting by his bed.
“Hey, where’d the beer go?” he asked angrily.
“I’M DOING THE INTERROGATION HERE, ALIEN SCUM!” screamed Uup-Yuurs.
Fok-Yuu, who had finished his whiskey without appearing the slightest bit drunk, pointed to him self, and said, “Fok-Yuu.” Then, he pointed to Homer.
“Hey, F you too! C’mon! Up yours!” shouted Homer. He couldn’t believe it. He got to meet aliens, and they swore at him! That was severely cool.
“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?” bellowed Uup-Yuurs.
Homer sniffed, pretended to wipe away his tears, and whined, “Why do you have to yell at me? Geez, what’s your problem? Bite me!”
“Yes?” asked Biete-Mee?
“Hey, what’s going on here?” asked Homer, now completely confused.
Admiral Fok-Yuu began explaining everything, once he calculated that the strange, fat, yellow alien could speak their language. “My name is Admiral Fok-Yuu.”
Suddenly, Homer burst out into laughter.
Fok-Yuu continued. “And these are Admirals Biete-Mee and Uup-Yuurs.”
Homer began rolling on the floor, laughing his ass off.
“See!” said Biete-Mee, “His language is laughing!”
“Shut up, you dis-ended piece of rectum,” shouted Uup-Yuurs. At Homer, he shouted, “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?”
Fok-Yuu then asked, “What is your name?”
Homer coughed, stood up straight, and tugged his collar. Time for a first impression. “My name is Homer J. Simpson, and I am from the planet Earth. My daughter made a hyperspace thingy, and I appeared in your drinks cabinet. And, may I commend your species for the fine beer you make,” said Homer, winking.
“Why thank you,” said Karan. Everybody stared at the security camera. “I mean, I speak for Kiith Paktu. It’s not like I make the beer myself in a secret still deep beneath the construction bays… However, you say your daughter created a hyperspace generator?”
“Yeah. For the school talent show,” said Homer nervously, wondering where that voice was coming from.
“Well,” said Karan, “I guess you’re stuck here until the hyperspace gate in the drinks cabinet opens up again, or we find a way to take you back to planet Earth, or whatever.”

Twenty-five minutes later, they were seconds away from exiting hyperspace. The Mothership began vibrating, then pulsing, as if it were made out of opaque jello.
“Woo hoo!” cheered Homer.
The Mothership then started spiraling, like it was going down a drain, and finally, it stabilized, and a blue light could be seen outside the viewscreens.
“We have arrived at the correct location… but where is the Khar-Selim?”
Admiral Fok-Yuu checked his sensors manager. “I detect a distress beacon of a friendly signature in this area,” pointing to a green blip on the screen, “This may be the Khar-Selim. We should send a probe to investigate.”
Homer stupidly yelled, “I’ll investigate!” and began running towards the airlock.
“Stop!” shouted Biete-Mee, “There’s explosive decompression! Your body will explode if you step outside!”
Homer skidded down the hall, banging into the airlock wall. “Explosive… decompression?” he murmured to himself, stroking a beard he didn’t have. “Oh well. I don’t know what it is, so it can’t hurt me.” Then, he opened up the airlock and leapt into open space. All three of the Admirals shut their eyes. A muffled “Doh!” could be heard, then silence. When they opened them again, blood was splattered against the tiny airlock window.
“Oh no… he’s… dead,” sobbed Biete-Mee, grabbing onto Uup-Yuurs for support. Then, Homer’s face appeared in the screen, and his faint yelling could be heard through the three inch thick doors.
“I banged my nose on the wall, and it started bleeding! Do you have a tissue?” Homer reached into his pocket, and found a hankerchief. “Never mind. Woo hoo!” he shouted, doing a flip in zero-gravity. He pushed off the side of the Mothership, and grabbed onto a scout.
“Hee hee. Hey there!” He waved to the pilot inside, who woke up from his sleep.
“Huh! Whoa! I gotta lay off the dope…” he thought to himself.
Homer then pushed off the scout, ricocheting off the research ship and re-entering the airlock. The doors closed, then, when the hatch opened, he climbed back in.
“Woo hoo!” he shouted, leaping in their air, shaking one fist.
Admiral Uup-Yuurs looked at Homer in shock. There was no way, no way that anybody could survive the vacuum of space. If Homer got even a moderately high rank because of this, he’d have two people he’d need to kill… He turned to Fok-Yuu, and issued his orders. “X-ray him, and run some scans. I want to find out more about this alien.”
Fok-Yuu nodded, and out of his palm slid a long thing rod of metal. A flimsy film-like screen was pulled from it, and several odd joints positioned the rod in front of Homer. Then, he turned to Biete-Mee, and said, “Prosthetic arm.” Biete-Mee fainted. The screen became clearer and clearer, revealing a skeleton of Homer Simpson. Then, the screen changed into a density reading.
“This is incredible!” exclaimed Uup-Yuurs. “His bone density is practically nil, but his fat and blubber density makes up for that! That’s how he survives the vacuum of space!”
Homer flexed his arm, and growled. “I can’t help but be the most amazing guy alive.”
This couldn’t be true, thought Uup-Yuurs again. Still, maybe that one time was a fluke… maybe he could get rid of Homer after all…
“Homer, my good friend, about those investigations?”
Homer sucked in his belly, and tried to be as high class as he could. It was hard though, because he was now wearing his usual white shirt and blue pants. “Yes, well, I think that… Oh, what the hell, woo hoo!” And he entered the vacuum of space again.
“Where should I go?” thought Homer to himself. Then, he felt something on his wrist. Fok-Yuu must have put it on, what a funny name. The wristwatch-like device showed him the exact location of the Khar-Selim. Homer shoved off the research station and flew towards the Khar-Selim. He reached the green blip on his watch, but all there was was a giant looming wreck. It had numerous carbon scores on it, and little pieces of debris floated around it. He saw a black box, which he shoved into his pocket. Then, he spoke into the watch.
“Hey, guys? Um, you’re not gonna like what I’m seeing,” he said meekly.
“What do you see?”
“Have you heard of the Titanic?” he asked, trying to break in the news slowly.
“No… where is this conversation leading to?”
“See, the Titanic was a ship on my planet. It crashed into an iceberg and sank.”
“What does this have to do with the Khar-Selim?” questioned Fleet Command.
“The Khar-Selim looks just like the wreck of the Titanic.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry. Was it important to you?”
“Yeah. It was supposed to do final adjustments on our Mothership. We’ll have to go back to Kharak.”
“Sucks to be you… hey, what are these red blips on my watch?”
Uup-Yuurs grabbed the speaker, and shouted, “Enemy ships! Ye-I mean, dang! Homer, you’re on your own!”
Homer began sweating nervously, as he paddled into the ship’s line of fire. How he wished Bart was here. Bart could negotiate his way out of anything… Oh well.
“Hey, guys, what are you doing here?” he asked the incoming ships.
“We are the Turanic Raiders. We have been sent by the Taiidani to destroy you,” replied one fighter.
“What happened to the Turanics, huh?” asked Homer, “You guys used to be cool. Now you’re just like dogs, taking orders from lesser races.”
“We’re still cool,” protested a Missile Corvette.
“Then prove it!” said Homer, “Just go back and tell the Taiidani that you couldn’t, here’s their money back. If that doesn’t work, talk to me, alright?”
“We’ll try to do that,” said the incoming Turanic Carrier.
“Great. Stay cool.”
“We’re still cool.”
Homer laughed, and sent a message back to the Mothership. “Hey, I tricked those pirates into going back home. Am I the man or what?”
The retreating carrier turned around, and the captain of it squinted his eyes as he intercepted the transmission.
“I heard that,” he growled.
“Hey man, now you’re being uncool again. I though you changed,” Homer pouted. Then, he carefully made sure the next message would only go to the Mothership, and whispered, “Hurry up and send ships! They’re catching on! I can’t hold them back much longer!”
“We’re sending in a whole fleet of Super Elite Laser Frigates right now,” lied Uup-Yuurs.
“Thanks man, you’re a pal,” replied Homer. Then, he turned to the retreating corvettes and fighters, and screamed, “KILL!” Homer slowly padded towards the Khar Selim as fast as he could, and pushed off, smashing into the cockpit of a missile corvette, shattering the glass, causing the pilots to fly out and explode. Homer yelled “Woo hoo!” and proceeded to kamikaze into the remaining Turanic ships.
He pressed the Talk button on his watch, and sent a message back to Up-Yuurs. “Hey, no need to send those Super Elite Laser Faggots, Homer Simpson has saved the day!”
Damnit, thought the Admiral. How did this Simpson man have so much luck? He’d have to pile on more impossible tasks for this alien. He checked his sensors, and waited until Homer had already opened the airlock, then messaged him.
Homer stepped into the Mothership, when his watch beeped. He heard the voice of Admiral Up-Yuurs. Homer liked him, he was a good man, even if he was rather a failure. He was glad to have already made friends.
“Homer? This is Admiral Uup-Yuurs. I’d like you to get the flight data recorder.” The Admiral then walked up to Homer, and said, “off you go, chap.” Homer smiled, and pulled out of his back pocket the black box he found.
“Hey, before I go, here’s a box of donuts I found in the Khar-Selim. Hope they’re still fresh.”
Karan Sjet used her bio-sensors to inspect the box. “That’s the Flight data recorder!” she exclaimed. “Mr. Simpson, I believe you deserve a promotion for protecting this Mothership and retrieving the recorder. How about the rank of Fleet Admiral?”
Uup-Yuurs smashed his head against the wall, while Homer accepted the offer. Why did this numbskull have to come aboard? Why? WHY? WHY?!?!?

The four Admirals and Fleet Command plugged the disk into Fok-Yuu’s prosthetic head. He opened his mouth, and a hologram appeared.

This is the Khar Selim, …… We detect some vessels heading our wa……. Who’s are they?….. What do you mean, they’re not ours?….. We’re under attack! Hull breach in 10 seconds…. All decks down…. Mothership, if you receive this message, abort the hyperdrive test! Abort the hyper—AAAAAH! NOOOOOOO!!!!! Ugh.ssss….

Homer snorted. “What a loser! I didn’t have a starship, and fighting those Turanic Raiders was like stealing candy from a baby!”
“You steal candy from babies?” gasped Biete-Mee. He was a family man, and couldn’t believe Homer would do that.
“Only from other people’s,” replied Homer. “Oh well, time to move on. As a Fleet Admiral—”
“NOOOO!” screamed Uup-Yuurs.
“—don’t worry bout that stupid Khar-Selim. Anyway, as a Fleet Admiral—”
“Why?” he moaned.
“—I’d like to go uninterrupted. Anyway, the carrier seems to be returning, so let’s whoop some ass! Woo hoo!”

Homer left the airlock once more, and saw the fighters coming. There weren’t very many, so he decided to take a brake and do what he did best: eat. After all, how much harm could it do?
He pulled a smashed can of baked beans, and watched as it popped open in the vacuum of space. Next, he bent the can into a spoon shape, tossed it away, and shoveled the beans into his mouth with his hands. Baked beans were definitely good food, but unfortunately, it gave him gas.
Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to him. He turned his back to the Raiders, and mooned them, yelling Come Get Some! Then, he farted.
Jag “Slippy” Toyle had been a Interceptor pilot as soon as he could fly. Unfortunately, this would be his last day flying anything. He looked down at his sensors, which detected a Mothership-sized anomaly ahead of him. Then, he looked ahead, saw a ripple in space, and died. Some may argue that it was the toxic gasses. Some may say it was the vacuum-amplified shockwave. But to the twenty Turanic pilots that were in the way of Homer’s projectile fart, it didn’t really matter at all.
The Turanic Carrier, meanwhile, decided it would be a good idea to retreat.

A celebration wasn’t being held in the Mothership, but if the three other admirals weren’t mentally challenged, there probably would have been one.
“So, how did I do?” asked Homer.
Both Biete-Mee and Uup-Yuurs couldn’t believe it. Some guy on his first day got promoted to Admiral, and was outdoing them. Fok-Yuu, like always, didn’t care.
Karan Sjet began addressing the entire fleet. “We will be returning to Kharak to make final adjustments on our hyperdrives. Prepare to hyperspace.:
Moments before they entered hyperspace, Homer suddenly realized what he had gotten into. Moments before hyperspace, every single person on the Mothership heard someone yell “Doh!” on the loudspeakers. Though a thousand years later, some historians argued that it was really, “Woo hoo!”

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 4: Burn, Kharak, Burn!

The Mothership re-entered real-space, in orbit around Kharak. But something was wrong. Where the Scaffold used to be, there was nothing but smoldering pieces of wreckage. And Kharak…
“Kharak is burning. There’s nothing left,” sighed Fleet Command sadly.
“We detect some hostile ships, coming in fast!” exclaimed Fleet Intelligence.
Homer looked out the window, and nodded in agreement. “Yep, he’s right,” he said, “If those big, flat ship things are yours, they’re definitely hostile. Ooh, there goes one!”
“Hey!” shouted Karan.
“What?” asked Homer.
“Oh, nothing. That was the cryo-tray my boyfriend was in.” said Karan.
Homer, who often let opportunities pass him by, sidled up to the security camera in the room, and asked, “Would there be—”
“No.” replied Karan.
“Any chance that we—”
“No.”
“Even a—”
“No.”
“Alright then…” said Homer.
Then, Fleet Intelligence began speaking again. “These frigate class ships are unlike any we’ve ever seen, they may be responsible for the burning of Kharak. Salvage one, then destroy the rest.”
“Yeah! I’ll do to those damn frigates what I did to the… those.. pirate people. Woo hoo!” shouted Homer, and leapt out of the airlock. He didn’t know how he could survive the vacuum of space, though he did remember Admiral Uup-Yuurs saying something about fat density. But he wasn’t fat, so that was nonsense, Homer thought.
Performing a somersault and kicking off the ruins of Scaffold, he floated into formation with the Salvage Corvettes which were flying towards the frigates, and grabbed onto one. Immediately, it began slowing down, barely able to drag Homer’s mass.
Suddenly, Homer received a transmission on the watch-like device he had received when he first arrived on the Mothership. He heard the voice of Admiral Fok-Yu. “Protect the salvettes. Destroy two of the three assault frigates.”
Homer nodded, but something occurred to him. “Hey, how did you know they were called assault frigates?” he asked suspiciously.
“Woman’s intuition,” replied Fok-Yu.
“Yeah, but you’re a man,” said Homer.
“Gay talk,” was Fok-Yu’s simple reply.
“So you’re really a man?” asked Homer.
“Yes. But I’m not gay,” said Fok-Yu.
Then, it was Uup-Yuurs voice on the device, screaming, “SHUT UP ABOUT WHETHER FOK-YU’S GAY OR—stay away from me—NOT, AND KILL THOSE DAMN FRIGATES!”
Getting back to his task, Homer pushed off from the salvage corvette he was latched onto, and swung himself towards the first assault frigate.
WHAM! He smashed into its side, merely bouncing off. He tried again, on another frigate’s bridge. THUD! He hit the bridge, then rolled off, just barely managing to hold onto the side of the frigate.
“Doh! It’s armour’s too strong!” he complained to the Admirals. He looked up, and then continued, “And another cryo-tray is gone!”
Admiral Biete-Mee felt this was the perfect chance to prove himself. If he could just take on two assault frigates with nothing but three salvage corvettes and two scouts, and maybe an interceptor if research division started to research right now… it seemed impossible. There was only one thing to do. He tapped Fok-Yu on the shouder and said, “You handle it.” Then, he ran away.
Fok-Yu knew he could take on odds like this easily. He had calculated it himself. He pulled out the radio, and began issuing orders across the ship. “Research division, commence Heavy Fighter Chassis research immediately. Production, build twelve scouts, and three interceptors. Resource team, harvest.”
Then, he looked out from the viewscreen. Homer Simpson was desperately trying to avoid the rounds from the assault frigates, while the salvage corvettes were about to release their target into the Mothership.
“Homer,” he said, “distract the frigates. Lead them away from the cryo-trays.” Outside, Homer nodded, and started paddling as fast as he could towards the Mothership.
Suddenly, Fok-Yu received a call from the research division. “After analyzing the captured frigate, we can now build a similar ship. We also believe we can build a mechanical exoskeleton for Homer Simpson, one which could amplify his powers.”

Homer had just made it into the Mothership, when he heard an announcement by Fleet Command, commanding him to report to the construction yards.
When he arrived, even he was in awe of the sight that awaited him. A gleaming white, blue and yellow mecha, with huge fists and feet. The angular face seemed to gaze down at him, creating a dis-orienting effect, like it was watching him.
One scientist came up to Homer, and explained what it was. “This is a prototype mecha called the Homer-1. It’s fists, feet, and belly are made out of new-titanium with a diamond frame, specially designed for ramming ships. Both its mouth and gluteus maximus are equipped with sonic cannons, which can shake, rattle, and roll the armour plating right off just about anything."
Homer stood there, dumbfounded. Then, he leapt into the air, shaking his fist, and yelled, “Woo hoo!”

Homer-1 blasted off from the construction yard towards the remaining two frigates. The frigates reared back, and began firing on the mecha with their plasma bombs, but the mecha nimbly avoided the blasts, spinning barrel rolls. It approached the first frigate and belly flopped into the front. Ceramic armour shattered, as the frigate collapsed like a tin can and exploded. Homer-1 propelled itself back with its prototype drives, and prepared for a sonic blast. A deep rumbling emanated from the mecha’s mechanical stomach, and then, a ripple came from its mouth, hitting the assault frigate in its side. Vein-like cracks appeared in the armour. Homer-1 flitted around the assault frigate, and began pounding the undamaged side with its fists, creating more cracks. Finally, it backed away, and prepared its main sonic cannon, located rather conspicuously on the robot’s ass.
The frigate saw the power of this unstoppable enemy, and began retreating as fast as it could. Power levels in the mecha were rising rapidly, it was preparing for another sonic attack!
The cannon finished charging, and took careful aim. Homer narrowed his eyes, as his shaking hands moved the joystick into the correct position. He pressed the fire button, and the cannon fired, but instead of hitting the assault frigate, the blast had come out of the mouth end and hit the Mothership.
“Doh!” Homer shouted, and began charging another shot. This time however, it worked perfectly, hitting the frigate with such force that it simply disintegrated into thousands of tiny shards of metal and ceramic armour. The reactor floated intact, drifting into Kharak’s orbit.

After Homer returned, Admiral Fok-Yu, Biete-Mee, and Uup-Yuurs joined him in the Lounge to watch the battle recording they found on the captured assault frigate. They slid the tape into Fok-Yu’s prosthetic head, and the hologram appeared inside the fish tank, which contained robotic fish.
The video started.

“This film is brought to you buy TaiidaniArts Studio. It has not been rated yet.”
The Scaffold came into focus. Then, a fleet of Taiidan ships, including destroyers, carriers, and a heavy cruiser. Interceptors were launched, and immediately began attacking the Scaffold. Battle chatter could be heard throughout, as orbital defenses fired missiles, and the inties flew between the narrow gaps of the Scaffold.
“The Scaffold’s armour is too thick for us!” screamed one interceptor, as a missile hit it.
“We won’t make it!” screamed another.
Then, the scaffold exploded, as an interceptor fired a bullet into a hole where the armour had been torn open by a resource collector which had crashed into it earlier.
“Yeehaw! We got lucky!” cheered the interceptor.
Then, the Heavy cruiser approached the planet, and dropped off two bomb-like objects. Seconds later, Kharak’s pole turned ash black, and a fire spread downwards from the epicenter. In the background, someone could be heard yelling, “Burn, Kharak, burn!” Another person could be heard yelling, “This is what you get for breaking a 4000 year old treaty forbidding you to make hyperspace jumps!”
Then, the video ended.

“So that’s how the Scaffold was destroyed… the resource collector that Admiral Fok-Yu ordered to harvest must have exposed a weak part on the Scaffold when it scraped across…” mused Karan.
“It wasn’t my fault,” protested Fok-Yu.
“It was too!” sneered Homer, who hadn’t even been there at the time.
Then, Fleet Intelligence began speaking. “The cryo-trays have been loaded. Prepare for hyperspace. Our primary objective is to destroy the fleet that burnt Kharak.”
Karan Sjet charged the drives, and Fleet Admiral Fok-Yu pressed the Hyperspace button. But dark thoughts dwelled in all their minds…
“What treaty were they talking about?” (Admiral Biete-Mee)
“Why were there no donuts on board?” (Homer Simpson)
“Why was Fok-Yu so emotionless?” (Admiral Uup-Yuurs)
And most mysterious of all, “Who was Fleet Intelligence?” (All of them except for Fok-Yu, who couldn’t care less.)

Then, all went blue, as the Mothership entered hyperspace.

[Lord Vorkosigan]

I like it. Now, if we can just get Nagarok's Children back...

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 5-Homer and the Bentusi

“We are exiting hyperspace,” droned Fleet Intelligence. They appeared in an area with a few asteroids ahead of them. “Harvest resources, and use that Controller.”
Admiral Biete-Mee dashed over to the control panel in a fit of madness, and gazed insanely at the command screen. “I shall harvest these resources, and I will NOT screw up!” he laughed. Clicking on the Collector icon on the screen, he ordered it to harvest the nearby asteroids. Then, he turned around to Admiral Simpson, and ordered him to use Homer-1 to guard the Collector.
Homer started to run to the docking bay, when suddenly, Karan Sjet began screaming.
“Oh my god! NOOOO! I chipped a nail on that stupid coolant tube! Oh, there’s a Mothership sized thing heading our way. NOOOO! Stupid stupid coolant tube!”
The four admirals eyed each other nervously. The stasis chamber Karan had been placed in would heal the nail in about two hours, but that would mean that if anything happened until then, Karan would be out of commission. Apparently, spending months of your life in a tiny chamber, living as a lump of metal shaped like a banana affected her mental functions.
Admiral Uup-Yuurs broke the ice. “I declare that we send an ambassador.”
“Not me!” said Bieite-Mee.
“What?” asked Fok-Yu.
The three admirals looked at Homer.
“Well,” said Uup-Yuurs cheerfully, “It looks like you’re the only one willing to go in the completely un-armed and unprotected ambassadorial corvette.”
“Woo hoo…?” asked Homer, as Fok-Yu’s prosthetic arms and legs led him to the corvette and shoved him in.
The corvette began flying towards the unknown Mothership. Homer stared at it in awe, and gasped, “If you look at it from the back, it looks like a huge donut! Mmm…”
Then, the corvette suddenly whirled uncontrolled, bounced off one side of the unknown Mothership, and careened into the docking bay.
Then, the voice of the unknown race spoke. “We are the Bentusi, the Unbou—get away from that!—the Unbound. We are NOT a donut. What’s your problem? No! We do not have any food! We are traders of technology! Take this damn trading chip and go away!” The corvette left the docking bay, and the Bentusi continued, “Ahem, sorry about that. Um, here’s a token of our friendship, watch out for the Turanic Raiders and the Taiidani. Reach your HomeWorld. Establish your—wait, whoops, I’m supposed to say that later… Darryl! It’s my turn though! Arrgh, you made me mess up! …what do you mean, we’re still transmitting? I haven’t stopped talking to them? What red button? Oh, this red bu—”
Then, the Bentusi Mothership hyperspaced away.
Meanwhile, inside the Mothership, Homer examined the trading chip with the other four admirals. Fok-Yu had extended his prosthetic abdomen, which doubled as a microscope, to help them see it more clearly.
“I think we’re supposed to use it to trade with them,” said Admiral Biete-Mee.
“No [censored], Sjetlock,” snorted Uup-Yuurs, “Why do you think it’s called a trading chip?”
“Chip?” asked Homer, his curiosity piqued. “As in potato chip? As in food?” Then, he grabbed the chip and popped it in his mouth, chewing it noisily.
“Blech!” he shouted, and spit it out. “It’s like chewing tin foil, except greasier.”
Outside, the Bentusi reappeared. The familiar deep, peaceful voice spoke once more. “Here’s your god-damned Ion Cannon technology for free, stop playing with that trading chip!” Then, in a glow of yellow, they disappeared once more.
“I detect some Turanic Raider chips, I mean ships heading towards our resource team!” said Fleet Intelligence urgently.
Homer pumped his arm, and shouted, “Time to bring out Homer-1…Woo hoo!”

The shiny mecha shot out of the docking bay like a bullet, crashing into some scouts, which exploded. Then, it sped off towards the collectors and engaged the fighters and corvettes.
Spinning around madly, Homer piloted his mecha to kamikaze into the fighters and corvettes one by one. The strafing runs made by the corvettes were no match for Homer-1’s quantum-curved armour. In less than a second, the attacking missile corvettes were rumbled into oblivion by the mecha’s rear cannon.

While Homer was guarding the resource team, Admiral Biete-Mee stared in shock as eight ion cannon frigates hyperspaced around the Mothership. Fortunately, Admiral Uup-Yuurs was already on it, bellowing orders to the crew and to the ships outside.
“Scout team, ATTACK IN EVASIVE tactics, and KILL those DAMN ion cannon FRIGATES!” he screamed to the mike. Then, opening a link with the Salvette crew, he began yelling, “SALVAGE THEM ALL! CARPE DIEM! SIEZE THE DAY!”
In the book Admiral Uup-Yuurs had read, titled, “Introduction to leading an army, the dictator’s way,” it stated that he should use silence as he used speech. A good silence, said the book, could mean quite a lot, and used effectively, could increase your communication to the people you were giving orders to.
Thoughfully, he pulled out the communicator, and re-phrased the order to the salvettes. This took some time, as he wanted to say the right thing, and to be quiet at the right times. Finally, he began yelling his orders.
“TODAY IS THE DAY YOU KICK ASS!”
Silence. A rather nice silence in fact.
“YOU WILL USE EVASIVE MANUEVERS, AND…”
This one was probably the best silence yet. It’d leave them hanging, ready to accept more orders.
“…AND YOU WILL SA—”
Then, a salvette interrupted. “We’ve captured them all, sir! We’re preparing to turn them in!”
Uup-Yuurs smiled smugly at himself. His people skills were improving so much, the salvettes had salvaged the ion cannon frigates before he’d even finished his orders. He couldn’t help but be perfect.
He was, however, completely oblivious to the fact that the transmitter he was holding had been disconnected, and to the fact that Admiral Fok-Yu was standing behind him using a different communicator to issue orders to the corvettes.

Homer had nearly picked off all of the Turanic ships, only a few more left to take out. Pushing off from the Resource Collector, he leapt through the air, leg extended, and landed a flying kick on an unsuspecting Missile Corvette. Stars and dust clouds flew through his viewscreen as he pounded down the last of the Turanic ships.
“Woo hoo!” shouted Homer, and began flying back to the Mothership.

Fleet Command’s nail had been regrown, and sensor data began flowing back to the ship. Information filled the Objectives screen. Biete-Mee stared at the information in shock. His entire body suddenly jolted, as if it had been shocked, than he collapsed like a tree onto a chair. Spit oozed from his mouth, and his arm hung limp over his head.
“What made him go like that?” asked Homer. He stepped up to the information screen, looked down, and suddenly entered seizure like Biete-Mee did.
Fok-Yu stepped to the screen and cycled his prosthetic eye through seven different modes until he finally saw what was wrong. Beneath the screen, there was a tiny gas leak, which was emitting Thalron-12, the coolant used on Karan Sjet’s chamber.
“Thalron-12 leak. A gas deadly to humans, with a paralyzing effect. It will kill a man unless suitable counter-drugs are injected,” explained Fok-Yu. Then, he opened up his prosthetic chest and pulled out a syringe. He injected both Homer and Biete-Mee, who were then carried off to the med bay.
Admiral Uup-Yuurs eyed Fok-Yu suspiciously. “Why didn’t you get all weird when you got to the leak?” he asked.
Fok-Yu, who was now plugging the hole with sealant from his prosthetic finger, simply answered, “Prosthetic lungs.”
Now that the leak had been plugged, Admiral Uup-Yuurs inspected the screen. “A carrier-class vessel is headed our way,” he said. “Mwahahaha! They shall suffer my wrath!” For an upper-classman like him, this carrier would pose no problem whatsoever. Quickly and effectively, he ordered the eight ion array frigates and various fighters to fire upon the Turanic ship. The frigates closed in on the attack.

Red beams of bloody death raked across the carrier’s hull, leaving scorched black lines. The ion cannons fired from the frigates like a lightsaber’s beam. Then, the carrier fired its own ions, blue beams blasting off Mothership armour like a stick dragged through the sand. Orbiting around the carrier, the frigates continued firing, as a slew of scouts flitted to and fro, firing their tiny mass-drivers at the incoming carrier. Suddenly, an Ion Cannon frigate exploded into a shower of sparks as a blue ion beam raked across the solar panel, tearing it off. However, in the end, the Ion Array frigates prevailed, destroying the carrier. It exploded magnificently in a bright blue-white sphere of plasma, lighting up the space around it for kilometers. Then, it was no more.

All was well again for now. Biete-Mee had gotten back the book that Uup-Yuurs had stolen from him. Uup-Yuurs had saved the day. Fok-Yu was getting his battery recharged (for his prosthetic heart), and Homer Simpson was happily guzzling beer from Karan Sjet’s secret still.
They entered hyperspace.

But deep, deep in the Mothership’s mainframe lay buried a tiny, compressed piece of information. A hunk of programming which was, unmistakably, Taiidan.

[Ben Tusi]

Awsome job, well done!

Keep up the good work!

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 6-The Good, the Bad, and the Taiidan

ZZZZZGhrzzzzpppttz.
ZZZZZGhrzzzzpppttz.
Admiral Biete-Mee lied in his bed, holding his fluffy blue pillow around his ears. How did this monkey become an Admiral? This stupid fat ape who snored like an elephant with a sinus problem? Biete-Mee though about all the events that happened so far in the Exodus, and still couldn’t figure it out. It was only luck that Homer was so fat he could survive the vacuum of space. Luck. It wasn’t right. Why should he, Fleet Admiral Biete-Mee, who spent twenty years to be an admiral, be forced to work with somebody who spent three days? It was worse than when he’d found out Uup-Yuurs had been promoted simply because his father was a high-class politician. Even worse than the time he found his cousin making out with the girl he’d brought home to meet his parents! Homer Simpson just pissed… Him… OFF!
The alarm clock next to him began buzzing, and all the Admirals groggily began getting up. Biete-Mee was fuming now. Because he was thinking about Homer, he didn’t get any sleep, and he’d be tired all day long. In a fit of rage, he suddenly got up and dived at Homer, who had turned off his alarm and was lying on the floor. Time slowed down now, as Biete-Mee floated in the air above Uup-Yuurs, getting ready to attack Homer. If there was a camera, it would have spun. Suddenly, there was a jolt, signifying that the ship had left hyperspace, and Biete-Mee flopped on top of Uup-Yuurs.
Uup-Yuurs was happily dreaming about killing all the annoying people in the world. But he felt a heavy weight on top of him, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Biete-Mee lying on top of him.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON ME, YOU SICKO!” he screamed, shoving Biete-Mee off him.
“Who’s gay?” asked Homer, who was suddenly awake.
“This… this man,” stammered Uup-Yuurs in rage, “tried to sleep with me.”
“That’s not true!” protested Biete-Mee, “I was aiming for Homer!”
Uup-Yuurs and Homer both gasped in disgust.
“You were aiming for that ugly slob?” asked Uup-Yuurs.
“That’s nasty!” cried Homer.
“That’s not what I mean!” whined Biete-Mee, but it was too late. He could see on the faces of the two admirals that they both truly believed he was gay. He had nothing against gay people, it was just being accused of gayness that ticked him off.
“I’m not gay!” he shouted.

“I’m sure you’re not,” replied Karan dryly, “but Fleet Intelligence has some orders for you.”
“Hello, Admirals,” said Fleet Intelligence over the speakers.
“Hello, Fleet Intelligence,” replied the four admirals.
“Today, you will be sending a probe to this target. Any questions?” asked Fleet Intelligence.
“Yes,” said Homer. “Is Biete-Mee really gay?”
“Huh?” asked Fleet Intelligence.
“Never mind, goodbye,” said Biete-Mee, and glared at Homer.
“Well, I still think you’re gay,” declared Homer.

The probe was sent, and they gazed into the images the probe was sending back.
“Dust Cloud,” said Homer, pointing. “Another dust cloud.”
“Very nice,” replied Biete-Mee sarcastically.
“Three dust clouds,” said Homer.
“Ok,” said Biete-Mee.
“One Destroyer,” said Homer.
“Yip—huh?”
“The ship markings and signatures are the same as the ones we saw at Kharak,” said the voice of Fleet Intelligence. “Destroy them.”

Seven ion Array frigates and one mecha flew slowly forward kilometer by agonizing kilometer.
“Enemy fleets sighted!” yelled an Ion array frigate captain.
“They are using Defenders…” said Fok-Yu over the intercom.
Five heavy corvettes took evasive maneuvers and engaged to Defenders. Around the tangle of exhaust lines were a mass of explosions, and streaming lines of fire as another Defender bit the dust.
Now, the assault frigates had arrived. Cutting through the formations of defenders and Corvettes like a wedge, they flew head on towards the ion array frigates. Plasma bombs spiraled onto the hulls of the ion array frigates at the same time ion beams engulfed the assault frigates.
“One down, two more to go!” shouted the captain.
“They’re sending in reinforcements!” somebody cried.
Another three assault frigates rolled in, making a total of five. The heavy corvettes had finished off the fighters, and engaged the frigates.
“Homer, help us!” screamed the captain.
Inside Homer-1, Homer suddenly yelled, “It’s good!” There was a portable radio on the dashboard and he was wearing a headphone.
The captain saw that Homer wasn’t going to help, so he asked, “What formation?”
“Go around to the sides! Rush them! Rush them!” screamed Homer excitedly.
“Follow the Admiral’s orders!” said the captain to his crew.
Homer couldn’t believe the radio was picking up signals all the way from Earth. What a great day for that to happen. Then, the opposing team scored a touchdown. “ARRGH! What are you doing? You’re supposed to tackle them! Tackle them!”
“Um, yessir…” said the captain as another assault frigate was destroyed.
Three ion arrays rushed the incoming assault frigates, while the rest divided into two groups and headed off in different directions. They flew in a curve, heading around the sides of the Assault frigates, concentrating fire until they were all destroyed.
“Incoming ion cannon frigates,” said a man at the sensors manager.
The game had ended, and Homer finally realized what was going on. The mecha immediately blasted off to the ion cannons, and disposed of one instantly, by smashing in the bridge. Focused ion fire and sonic cannons eliminated the next.
“Woo hoo!” cheered Homer, as they were destroyed.
“Don’t cheer yet,” said Fleet Command, “Two Destroyers and a Carrier, headed your way.”
Homer glared angrily at the Destroyer. “You…. bastards! You… killed… my.. wife!” Then, he rushed head on, only to be tossed away by three simultaneous Ion blasts. “Ok, I’m sorry!” whined Homer. “What do you want?” he asked, trying to appeal to their greed.
“We want… to destroy you.”
“Then DIE!” screamed Homer valiantly, then started to fly back to the Mothership.
Suddenly, he stopped as a strange yellow glow appeared in front of him. A Bentusi Mothership appeared, looming over the Destroyers, the Carrier, and Homer.
It’s deep booming voice commanded, “We want our Ion Cannon technology back, you bastards.” Then, it seemed to notice the Destroyers, and continued, “Sorry, is this a bad time? Look, if you could just deposit 400 RU’s in our account, we’ll let you keep the Ion cannons, ok?”
The destroyers would not put up with the Bentusi interfering. Both began to open fire on the Bentusi. The Ion beams hardly affected the strange Bentusi armour.
“Arrgh! I just painted that!” boomed a the Bentusi. Four golden ion turrets began firing continuously at the Destroyers, like long rods of molten metal. The Destroyers fired back, orbiting the Bentusi like body guards around the President.
“Suffer the wrath of the Taiidan!” said a voice from one of the Destroyers.
“Suffer the wrath of four continuous-fire ion cannons and incredible speed!” replied the Bentusi.
“They’ve got a point there,” giggled Homer.
A formation of twenty Defenders had entered the scene now. Homer happily attacked them, dodging the bullets as if he were in the Matrix.
“I’m… getting… dizzy!” shouted Homer. “Woo hoo!”
The Destroyers were smoking now, and were moving more slowly. The Bentusi Mothership closed in on the cowering supercaps, and said slowly, “There’s the good, the bad, and the ugly. One out of three ain’t you. Then, a final blast of the ion cannons erased the Destroyers from the face of the galaxy.
The carrier captain messaged the Bentusi angrily. “Your momma wore combat boots!”
If the Bentusi Mothership had a face, it would have smiled evilly. The Bentusi loomed over the carrier, and whispered, “You’re right.” Then, all four ion beams fired directly into the docking bay, destroying the carrier in a single hit.
Homer had finished off the last defender unscathed, and patted the Bentusi Mothership on the side. “We make a great team, don’t we?” he asked.
“Of course n—we do. You may have the ion technology for free,” said the Bentusi in an exasperated voice, which went completely unnoticed by Homer.

“On the behalf of the entire Kushan race, I would like to thank you Bentusi,” said Karan gratefully.
Behind her, both Admiral Uup-Yuurs and Biete-Mee looked at their feet unhappily. Homer had saved the day again, and their own record was looking worse and worse. Admiral Fok-Yu, as always, didn’t care. Instead, he was busy mixing a vodka in his ankle.
The Bentusi then left, leaving Admiral Uup-Yuurs, Biete-Mee, Fok-Yu, and Homer Simpson, alone in the room.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” asked Homer nervously.
The other two Admirals pulled out leather belts.
“You’ll see,” they said, grinning evilly.
Suddenly, Homer gasped, and cried out, “You’re gonna do a strip show for me with belts? Oh my Lord! They’re both gay! They’re both gay!” He ran to the intercom, and screamed to the entire crew, “Uup-Yuurs and Biete-Mee are gay! They’re both gay!”

Then, the Mothership entered hyperspace.

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 7-Murder in the Asteroid Belt

The Mothership exited hyperspace.
“Evasive maneuvers!” screamed Admiral Uup-Yuurs as alarms sounded across the ship, “Deploy fleet! Destroy those roids!”

Hundreds of massive asteroids slowly moved towards the Mothership like a stampede of giant tortoises. Tons and tons of solid rock, grinding against each other, million pound wrecking balls of dirt and grit. The ion cannon frigates and corvettes and fighters all rushed at the incoming asteroids, fighting to stop them from impacting the Mothership.
Inside, Karan Sjet lay in her chamber, and suddenly said, “Ow!” She felt as if an asteroid had just hit her. Then, she felt the pain again. “What’s going on here?” she groaned angrily, and checked the sensors. Asteroids were hitting her.

Biete-Mee ignored the sirens and went to the galley to get a light snack. He stepped over to the counter when he saw Admiral Fok-Yu sharpening some knives.
“Hey, Fok-Yu. How’s it going?” asked Admiral Biete-Mee.
Fok-Yu’s head swiveled in its prosthetic head socket. His prosthetic eyes glowed an angry red. “Checkpoint reached. Beginning program.”
“Huh? What’s going on?” cried Biete-Mee, bewildered.
Fok-Yu’s voice turned harsh and metallic. Well, more harsh and metallic than usual. “Mission objectives… kill Karan Sjet… kill Fleet Admirals… Destroy the Mothership… STOP THE KUSHANI” His voice rose to a high pitched whine.
Admiral Biete-Mee fell on the floor, as Fok-Yu’s left arm suddenly extended itself and wrapped around Biete-Mee’s torso. “What are you!?” he cried
“Taiidani-tech assassin droid Model T. Destroy. Destroy.”
Then, Fok-Yu’s other arm fell off, revealing a large, menacing blade. The left arm tightened more, and small metal spikes began coming from the thick tentacle-like appendage. A quick movement, as fast as lightning, and Admiral Biete-Mee collapsed on the floor. Dead.

“Whoa!” shouted Biete-Mee as he awoke from bed. It was still dark, the Mothership hadn’t exited hyperspace yet. And more importantly, he was still alive. He looked over his shoulders at the innocent, (except for Homer, who was a bastard) sleeping shapes of the other Admirals. Uup-Yuurs, quietly sucking his thumb… Fok-Yu, rotating his prosthetic arm… and Simpson, mumbling something about donuts.
He quietly got out of bed, dressed, and went to the bridge. All was silent, as he tiptoed his way to the controls. When he got to his familiar seat, he saw it. The hyperspace button. He’d finally be able to push it, after screwing up so many times. He giggled to himself, and pressed the button.
Suddenly, the voice of Fleet Intelligence cried, “We are exiting hyperspace! Somebody has aborted hyperspace, interrupting our jump to the nebula!”
Then, sirens began sounding, as the viewscreen opened its hyperspace shield. Hundreds of asteroids were tumbling around outside, heading straight towards the Mothership. Admiral Uup-Yuurs rushed to the intercom and screamed, “Evasive tactics! Destroy the roids!”
Admiral Biete-Mee slowly stumbled backwards in fear. It was just like his dream. Shaken up, he decided to run to the galley to get some hot coffee. Yes, that’d calm his nerves. After all, it was just a dream, and this was just a coincidence. Fok-Yu really wouldn’t be waiting there, waiting to kill him.
He stepped into the kitchen, and gasped. Admiral Fok-Yu was standing over the counter…sharpening some knives.
“TAIIDAN SCUM!” screamed Biete-Mee, pulling out a blaster. “DIE!” He pulled off six quick shots which hit Fok-Yu square in the chest. A gaping hole was revealed after the smoke cleared.
“What’d you do that for?” groaned Fok-Yu, as he flicked out his index-finger welding tool and started repairing the gap in his prosthetic flesh.
“Heh, sorry,” said Biete-Mee sheepishly. “I thought you were a Taiidan assassin droid.”
Fok-Yu raised his head, and said coldly, “But I am one.” Then, from his left arm, a long, retractable lance emerged, skewering Biete-Mee through the chest.
As Biete-Mee fell to the floor, things seemed to fade in and out of his vision. A numb, dull pain filled his chest, and his final thoughts were: “This isn’t how it happens in the movies.”
Then, Fok-Yu calmly messaged Fleet Command, telling her that Biete-Mee had been a Taiidani spy all along. His programming was careful to include everything in the story, including how Biete-Mee had shot him in the chest and how he’d saved the ship’s crew by killing Biete-Mee.

While Uup-Yuurs was dealing with the incoming roids, a number of crew, Fleet Command, and Fleet Intelligence were examining Admiral Biete-Mee’s corpse.
“He seemed so harmless!” sobbed Karan Sjet.
“Yes. Such a shame he was the enemy,” lied Fok-Yu. His mission objectives were simple: destroy the rebels and everything they have. He had messaged the Turanic Raiders, and ordered them to distract the Kushan infidels while his fleet destroyed Kharak. But that Simpson… he wasn’t as stupid as he looked. He’d caught the mistake he’d made of calling the frigates assault frigates. He’d have to get rid of Homer before long… but while one murder was a tragedy… two would be subject to more investigation.
Then, Homer Simpson ran into the room, and gasped as he saw the dead body of Admiral Biete-Mee on the floor. He saw Admiral Fok-Yu and some other crew stare at him.
“I didn’t do it!” he cried, “It was him!” and he pointed at Admiral Fok-Yu.
“Yes. It was me who killed this Taiidan spy,” explained Fok-Yu.
“Why, yes… of course it was,” replied Homer, as smoothly as he could. He winked at Fok-Yu, and left then sobbed, “WHY? Why did this good man have to die! Why? What did he do wro—oops—ng?” Putting on a good act was important, though Homer, and this one would have been perfect if Biete-Mee’s corpse hadn’t been in the way of his foot. He saw a three inch deep depression in Biete-Mee’s chest where he’d stepped on it. “Doh!” cried Homer, and he left the room and headed for the bridge.
Uup-Yuurs was worried. Through a series of twelve unrelated incidents, he’d somehow managed to get every single ship in the attack fleet destroyed, and the Mothership would explode if one more asteroid hit it. He watched nervously at the screen as the final asteroid in the entire belt came closer and closer. He couldn’t tell from the distance if it would hit the Mothership or not. As it spun ever nearer, he knew that it would.
“You idiot!” screeched Karan, when her sensors detected the incoming asteroid. “How could you let this happen?”
“I don’t know!” exclaimed Uup-Yuurs. He began his full length explanation of what happened. “See, when the first asteroid came,” he looked out the window and saw the roid was coming closer. He decided to shorten the speech a bit.
“Whenthesixthroidcameithitalltheshipswhichwereinasinglefileline.” He gasped for breath, and continued, “Andthenallthoseshipssmashedintothemothership.”
“What?” asked Karan.
“Whenthesixth…roidcameithitall… theshipswhich… wereinasinglefile… line. Andthenall… thoseshipssmashedintothe… Mothership,” rushed Uup-Yuurs, nervously looking at the looming rock which would hit in one-and-a-half minutes.
“WHAT?” asked Karan Sjet.
“When the sixth asteroid came, it smashed into all of our ships, which were in single file. Then, all those ships smashed into the Mothership,” said Uup-Yuurs as slowly as he could. Thirty seconds until impact. He looked outside the viewscreen in shock, when he saw the Homer-1 sitting atop the asteroid as it headed towards the Mothership.
Homer, meanwhile, was having the greatest time of his life as he clung onto the speeding asteroid, which was flying straight towards the Mothership. He messaged the bridge. “Hey, everyone! The Mothership looks like a boomerang from here! Hehe!”
An idea suddenly hit Uup-Yuurs head the same way a 4000 kilogram wrecking ball hits a building. He messaged back to Homer. “Fire your ass cannon!”
Homer pulled the lever, and the sonic wave fired, splitting the asteroid into two parts which… continued straight towards the Mothership.
“We’re all gonna die!” cried Uup-Yuurs, grabbing onto Fok-Yu, who’d just walked into the bridge. “We’re gonna be exploded just like the Mothership! I didn’t do that many things to deserve this!” he sobbed.
“Pull yourself together, we gotta make it through this!” shouted Homer through the loudspeaker. “Anyway, don’t worry, chances are, the asteroid will be carved down to a rock no larger than a Chihuahua’s head when it passes through the thick layer of wreckage in front of the Mothership. Just like the asteroid that was about to hit Springfield,” assured Homer confidently.
Fok-Yu quietly said, “We’ll find out now.”
The asteroid came closer. It hit the first wreck of an ion array frigate and one section flew away, hitting the research station. Then, it hit a small cloud of corvettes. Bits and pieces flew off the asteroid, as it shrunk ever more. Everyone was watching nervously now, as the final piece of the asteroid crashed into several more hulks of Ion Array frigates. Everyone clenched their eyes shut, waiting for the end to come. Everyone except Fok-Yu, who didn’t care. Uup-Yuurs moved away his finger, peeking out, when he saw a tiny piece of rock, no larger than a Chihuahua’s head, hit the viewscreen and bounce away. Then, he saw the Homer-1 hit the Mothership seconds later, creating a large, fortunately non-fatal, crack on the Mothership’s hull. The Homer-1 quickly shoved in some corvette wrecks and pretended nothing happened.
“We’re alive!” cheered Karan, who started dancing in her little chamber.
“Thanks to me,” reminded Homer, who stepped into the bridge. “I have saved the day again. But I don’t need a reward, your friendship and a reward is all I need.”

“Should we warn them?” asked a voice on the Bentusi Mothership.
“Why not, I mean there’s no harm in it, right, Darryl?”
“I guess so, but Greg, you go first.”
“We’re both in the same ship, doofus.”
“Oh yeah. That’s right.”
The Bentusi Tradeship hyperspaced in front of the Mothership, taking damaged from the wreckage.
“Ow! What’s this Ion Array Frigate doing? C’mon, you Kushani know that the Galactic Council is strict on littering!”
“We’re sorry,” said Karan, “but do you have any information on the Great Nebula we’re entering?”
The Bentusi fell silent. Then, the one called Darryl spoke up.
“I lost a teddy bear in there when I was four. It was a family vacation. I was holding Mr. Teddy up with my left stabalizer, wh—”
“Shut up, nobody wants to hear how you lost your stupid little teddy bear. Oh yes, um… eerie voice, check, alright,” said the other Bentusi, named Greg. “Even the Taiidan fear the great nebula. Nobody returns.”
“And if you find my teddy bear in there, bring him back, alright? I got it from Uncle George the day I was born, and it means a lot to me.”
Homer then spoke up, “You heard the man… alien… Bentusi… our mission objectives are to enter the Great Nebula and find that… thing’s teddy bear!”
Everyone stared at him.
“Well, isn’t it?” he asked.

Thirty minutes later, the Kushan Mothership waved goodbye to the Bentusi.
“We’ll send a postcard!” yelled Homer.
Then, as the blue lines of hyperspace stretched in front of the ship, Admiral Uup-Yuurs screamed, “WHAT? You never told me that Biete-Mee had died!”

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 8-Homer and the Kadeshi

The eerie blue glow of hyperspace filled the Great Nebula. Out emerged the Mothership, alone, without a single escort. It was unnerving to those inside the ship. Not once before the asteroid belt had it been like this. Even at Kharak, there was the comfort of the Scaffold, and the protection of the few scouts. True, they could always build more ships, but…
Homer, in his new Admiral’s uniform, stolen off Biete-Mee’s body, checked the sensors. “Whoo! The sensors are all jacked up!”
“What!?” yelled Uup-Yuurs, running to the screen. He saw random red dots flash across the screen wildly, showing enemy positions all around the Mothership. He glared at Homer suspiciously.
“It wasn’t me…” said Homer nervously. Best not let Uup-Yuurs know he spilt coffee on the controls.
Fleet Intelligence interrupted, and spoke, “Sensor fidelity in this area is really really low. Sucks to be you! Ahahahaha!” Fleet Intelligence had been acting more and more rebellious since Biete-Mee’s death, as was Fok-Yu. Both of them seemed reluctant to help, and were becoming more and more distant from the rest of the crew. Homer claimed it was “just a phase,” but still… Karan Sjet then mumbled, “What’s wrong with him? Look guys, just harvest, alright? If we hurry, we can avoid whatever the Bentusi were so afraid of.”
“Hey, what about the Bentusi teddy bear?” asked Homer.
“Screw the Bentusi!” screeched Fleet Intelligence loudly.
“I’ve sent the resourcer,” said Uup-Yuurs.
Homer pressed his face against the viewscreen, trying to see the collector. “I don’t see it anywhere!” he said. “And all our ships are gone, anyway.”
Uup-Yuurs kicked him and hissed, “I was trying to make Fleet Command feel better!”
Homer then quickly stood up and loudly exclaimed, “WOW! There is the collector! Everything is going great! We don’t need Biete-Mee! We’re all—Ow!”
“Idiot!” growled Uup-Yuurs. “Just shut up from now on, ok?”
“Aww,” whined Homer, dejected. He slowly goose-stepped over to the construction bay, leaving Uup-Yuurs and Fok-Yu alone in the bridge.

Three hours later, the collector was completed. It slowly exited from the docking bay and began harvesting valuable asteroids. Suddenly, a red glow appeared in front of the Mothership, and a large circular object appeared in front of the Mothership.
“Send the ambassador!” ordered Karan. Homer shoved away the pilot and leaped into the ambassadorial corvette. The corvette sped towards the unknown vessel; it’s cameras revealing a long, needle-like appendage behind the frontal cap.
“It looks like a tadpole,” said Uup-Yuurs.
“It looks like something else to me,” giggled Homer inside the corvette.
The corvette stopped halfway between the unknown ship and the Mothership. Out from the unknown vessel came a tiny pod, half the size of the corvette. It spoke.
“This is… the Garden of Kadesh. For thirteen… generations we have protected it from… the unclean. The Turanic Raiders who came before you refused to join… and were punished for this… trespass. Like theirs, your ship… has already defiled this holy place. If you ha—”
“Do you have asthma?” interrupted Homer.
“No,” said the Kadeshi.
“Are you sure? Or do you have a stutter? Because you keep pausing.”
“Alright, it’s this stupid dust in this stupid Nebula, alright? Can I just finish my really cool speech?” complained the Swarmer angrily.
“Oh. Sure.”
“Ahem. As I was… saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, if you have come to join, we… welcome you and will spare your ship until all… have disembarked. If you have come to consume the garden, you will be removed… at once. What… are your intentions?”
Homer cleared his throat, and said, “I don’t see a garden anywhere. Just a lot of stupid stars and swirly red things and dust. I—”
Karan cut off his radio link, and spoke as the ambassador. “We were unaware of the significance of this location. We mean you no conflict. Please allow us time to—” She paused as Homer whispered something to her through the communicator. “—Please allow us time to withdraw, and *sigh* if you have a teddy bear that was dropped here about two-hundred years ago, we’d like to have that please.”
The icy echoing voice of the Swarmer said, “If you will not join, then die. There is… no withdrawal… from the… Garden. And if you speak of our Holy Relic, the Great Holy Bear of Oblivion, Armageddon, and Apocalypse (GHBOOAA), then the answer is NO. (V)wahahaha! Prepare to die! Hee hee… I love saying that.” Then, the Swarmer flew began flying back to the Needle Mothership, when it made a sudden about turn and began talking again. “Oh by the way, if you have any questions concerning the end of your race, my name’s Bob, and you can call me at the Needle Mothership on this line, alright. Have a nice day. And prepare to die!” Then, the Swarmer returned to the Needle Mothership for real.
“What a nice bunch of people,” said Homer while his auto-pilot brought him back to the Mothership.
“What are you saying?” asked Uup-Yuurs, “They’re trying to friggin’ kill us!”
“Oh. Well, what a nice bunch of people,” repeated Homer.

Out of the Needle Mothership flew a multitude of Swarmers and Fuel Pods. Flying crazily, they flew to the collector, where they immediately started attacking the helpless resourcer. Mass drivers spit their rounds at the ceramic armour, slowly cutting the harvester into a piece of scrap metal.
Karan Sjet watched the harvester nervously. It hadn’t even brought in its first load, and they didn’t have the RU’s to build another. That harvester was the single most important unit in the entire fleet right now. Well, it was the ONLY unit in the entire fleet.
“Homer! Go out in the Homer-1 and defend that harvester!” ordered Karan. She knew it would be practically impossible for even a high-speed mecha like the Homer-1 to take on such advanced fighters, but…

Homer-1 exploded out from the docking bay, spiraling towards the Swarmers. In his first pass, a line of fiery explosions decorated the path of the Homer-1.
“Woo hoo!” cheered Homer, as he turned his mecha for a second pass. He charged mouth-sonic cannon and let it rip, clearing another line of Swarmers.
“We’re taking heavy losses!” cried out a Swarmer.
“Unknown vessel is attacking us! We’ve never seen anything like it!”
“We must capture it for study!”
“I’m out of fuel!”
All the Swarmers suddenly made a swift about-face and returned to the incoming fuel pod. Meanwhile, Homer was watching them retreat to the fuel pod. He wondered why they were returning to the large ship. The gears of his mind clicked, and the answer came to him. It was lunchtime, and the Swarmers had docked to go eat!
“Why those bastards…” he growled.
The Homer-1 charged the fuel pod, and swept away some docked Swarmers. “Trying to hide food from me, huh? Let’s see you like this!” He punched the cockpit of the Fuel Pod, which exploded magnificently, taking out every swarmer along with it.
Then, Bob’s voice reappeared on message screens of the Kushani ships. “So. You have… managed to destroy a… small portion of our… fleet. We have… many… more ships. (V)wahahahaha! Prepare to die!”
Out of the Needle-Mothership poured out over sixty fighters and at least twelve fuel pods, which all targeted the Homer-1.

Meanwhile…
“Boarding team Alpha, you are to infiltrate the Kadeshi Mothership and bring back the GHBOOOA,” ordred Admiral Uup-Yuurs.
“Sir?” asked a young officer, “isn’t it GHBOAAA?”
“No,” quipped another, “it’s GHBOOAA.”
Uup-Yuurs snarled at the last officer and yelled, “I’m a higher rank than you. Therefore, I am correct!”
“Yessir!” called the officer, then in a much smaller voice, “bastard.”
Uup-Yuurs spun around on his heels and pointed his finger at the man. “I heard that. You called me a loser, didn’t you? There’s always one idiot, one retard, one dunce in the group.”
“Yes,” said the officer, “But he’s usually not in charge.”
Three whippings and twelve screams for help later, the boarding group, crammed in their defenseless corvette, began approaching the Kadeshi Mothership.

The Homer-1 was fighting like never before. It swung left and right with shocking agility, smashing the Swarmers one by one. Homer fired his sonic cannons, taking out another fuel pod.
“Do… you… give up?” screamed Homer, bashing in the cockpit of another Swarmer.
“Up yours!” replied a Swarmer which began firing on the Homer-1.
“Yeah, he’s inside the Mothership,” said Homer. Then, he grabbed that Swarmer and crushed it under his mecha’s steely armpit.
Inside the Needle Mothership, Bob was worried. The High Priest was unhappy because they had lost so many Swarmers already, and when the High Priest was unhappy, Bob was frightened. Being the Grand Vizier and an insurance salesman did have its upsides, but some very painful downsides as well.
“My Grand Vizier… Why have we taken such heavy losses to a single ship?”
“Perhaps… it’s um, better than our ships?” asked Bob meekly.
“You mean… better than the ships you guaranteed were flawless?” rumbled the High Priest.
“Well… at least we have insurance?” said Bob, slowly moving towards the corner.
“Fool!” spat the High Priest. “If they destroy this Mothership, I’ll die! And that is bad!” He grabbed Bob by his throat and lifted him up so they were face to face.
“I’ll take care of it, sir!” Bob gasped, as he looked into the pale, wrinkled face of the Priest. “But, ah…”
Then, a Kadeshi at a control panel interrupted, “Sir! There seems to be a corvette sized vessel heading our way!”
The High Priest threw Bob to the ground and ran to the controls. After a moment of studying, he growled, “Destroy it now.”
In that moment, four ion beams twisted out of the front of the Needle Mothership, and every single one missed the corvette.
“What! How could this have happened?” cried the High Priest, as the corvette clamped onto the Kadeshi ship’s hull, and began drilling in.
“I won’t let you harm them!” yelled Bob defiantly, wondering why the hell he was doing this.
“Then you shall die!” snarled the Priest, and swung down his cane. Bob dodged it and grabbed a conveniently placed beam saber that was lying on the floor.
“Die old man!” he screamed, and lunged at his opponent. The Priest pulled out his own saber and blocked the blow.
“Why do you defy me? Rejoin, and we can rule the Kadeshi Empire!” cackled the Priest, as he thrust his saber at Bob.
“Never!” yelled Bob dramatically as he rolled under the blade and kicked at the priest’s legs. It connected, and the Priest fell on the hard metal floor, dropping his saber. “Now, suffer… my wrath!” cried Bob, lifting the saber high above his head.
“No, wait!” gasped the priest, “If you kill me, you’ll never find out who your father really is!”
Bob scratched his head, and asked, “What are you talking about? My father is John Smith, and I’m Bob Smith. We even had a DNA test to prove it, cuz of this incident which, we don’t really talk about.”
“Damn,” muttered the priest under his breath. “I meant, you’ll never discover who killed your father!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” said a wizened old man sitting in front of a navicomp. “I’m Bob’s father, and I’m still alive!”
“That won’t work either,” muttered the priest. “If you kill me, you’ll feel guilty about it all your life!” cried the priest in a final attempt. Suddenly, the wall to their left burst apart, revealing a number of Kushani commandos.
“Alright everyone! Hands where we… um, oh, you two are fighting? Sorry, we’ll come back later,” said the leader of the boarding team.
“No! Help me! This man is the leader of the Kadeshi!” screamed the Priest, pointing at Bob.
The commando gestured to his troops, and said, “Alright, we’ll take him prisoner. Now, spread out! Search the ship for the bear!”
“No!” yelled the High Priest again, “Anything but the bear! Anything but the bear!”
Bob, who was now being lead back to the corvette yelled, “It’s in Storage Room 7 go down the hallway and it’s the fourth room to your right.”
The commando thanked Bob, and began leading several of his men away. Ten minutes later, they returned, holding a tattered, brown teddy bear. A Bentusi teddy bear, meaning the doll had six cotton tentacles and three sharp teeth made of white plastic coming out of each of the three mouths. “What an ugly bear,” commented one of the commandoes.
The boarding team carefully carried the bear into the corvette, and retracted the docking clamp. Bob was safe in an energy cage, and the corvette slowly moved back to the Mothership. Inside, it was deathly silent as the commandoes quietly sat in their seats. Then, they all turned as Bob began speaking. “Did you know this corvette could crash any minute now, and all of us could die? If that happens, what will your family do? Well, Garden Insurance can provide quality life insurance, not to mention starship insurance and many other types of insurance. Now, just let me show you this pamphlet, and…”

Meanwhile, Homer had finished off the last of the swarmers, and headed for the MotherShip. Inside, he saw Admiral Uup-Yuurs interrogating Bob. He had a strange, strange, feeling, but didn’t know what it was.
“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Homer.
“Up your ass!” said Admiral Fok-Yu, who had just entered the room.
“Heh, um, we’ve got the bear, the Needle Mothership’s sort of retreated, and we got a prisoner to give us all the very secrets of the Kadeshi! Another promotion for me!”
Then, a member of the boarding team said, “But sir, I’m the one who led our troops to get that bear.”
“Ah, but I’m the one who told you where it was,” said Bob.
“Well, I provided a distraction so the corvette could get through. And I was the one who made Karan ask the Kadeshi for it,” bragged Homer.
“Well, I… um…” Uup-Yuurs tried to remember what he did, but nothing came to mind. “Well, I’m just special.”
Homer took a good look at Bob, and suddenly realized what was so disconcerting. Bob looked exactly the same as Admiral Biete-Mee! He narrowed his eyes, and lunged for Bob’s throat. “You traitor! You were fighting for the Kadeshi?!”
Bob tried to get the two-hundred pound creature off his back, as he gasped, “Of course! I was their Grand Vizier! *cough*”
“How could you, Biete-Mee, how could you?” screamed Homer.
Karan Sjet watched nervously, and asked Uup-Yuurs, “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Bob sort of has the same nose and eyes as Biete-Mee, like there’s a family resemblance, but… Homer! Get off him! He’s not Biete-Mee! He just looks a lot like him!”
“Doh!” said Homer. “Well, can we make him a Fleet Admiral anyway? Just because he looks just like Biete-Mee?”
“Why not?” sighed Uup-Yuurs.

Twenty minutes later, the four Fleet Admirals prepared for hyperspace.
“Sensors show no Kadesh!” said Bob.
“Hyperdrive charged!” said Uup-Yuurs.
“You’re all faggots!” said Fok-Yu.
And Homer, who’d fallen asleep in his chair, said, “Donuts…ZZZ”
And then, Uup-Yuurs pushed the little red button marked Hyperspace.

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Chapter 9-Homer vs. Kadesh…Round 2

Far, far away, but in the same galaxy, Darryl and Greg watched each other silently other through their security cameras. Then, Darryl coughed over his speakers, and asked:
“So, do you think they’ve gotten Mr. Teddy yet?”
Greg sighed, and yelled, “Dude, you just asked that two minutes ago! And four minutes ago! And six minutes ago! And eight minutes ago! And—”
“Ok, ok, I get the idea!” cried Darryl defensively. “Look, I think we can just go and check, alright?”
Greg cursed himself in his mind. “Alright, engage your hyperdrive.” He knew that the Kushans wouldn’t have the stupid bear. He knew they wouldn’t. They couldn’t possible have it. Getting a four-hundred year old teddy bear from a xenophobic bunch of aliens was impossible.
Then, the Bentusi Mothership exited hyperspace. To their left, as the yellow glow left them, they saw the Kushan Mothership appear.
“Hey! Do you have Mr. Teddy!” cried Darryl excitedly. Greg sighed and held his construction arm to his docking bay, and shook his launch-pad back and forth.
“As a matter of fact, we do,” said Karan Sjet.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe you really got it!” squealed Darryl happily.
“Yeah, we’re sending it over right now—Homer, get out of the pilot’s seat.”
From the Mothership’s docking bay, a small transport corvette flew out, when suddenly, a Kadeshi Swarmer closed in and shot it down. Where the corvette used to be, a single Kadeshi Swarmer stood.
The Swarmer turned to the Mothership. “Again, we offer you the chance to join us, and live… hey, what’s this Bentusi doing here?”
Homer grabbed the radio before Karan could speak, and yelled, “Biotch! Go away! Boo! Los—”
“Sorry for that idiot, but… we can’t stay. We’re on a trip. Let there be peace between us, for we have something in common. The hyperdrive technology left to us by our ancestors is the same as yours. Of course, we probably invented it first. Anyway, the HomeWorld we’re going to might be yours too.”
“I hope not,” muttered Admiral Bob Smith under his breath, “because I hate sharing.”
The Kadeshi ominously said, “You will fail. The evil that AGHHHH!”
“That… that… horrible little person!” yelled Darryl, after he had fired his ion cannons at the Swarmer. “I was waiting to get that bear back for years! And then that stupid person has to… arrgh!”
“Calm down!” screamed Greg, trying to over-ride Darryl’s controls. But Darryl, refusing to listen, set the engines on full power and sped towards the Needle Mothership.
Inside the Mothership, Admiral Uup-Yuurs asked Bob how a Kadeshi Mothership would hold up against a Bentusi Mothership.
Bob shook his head, and said, “They’ll all be dead in thirty seconds.”
Meanwhile, Homer was watching excitedly, and exclaimed, “This is better than watching a demolition derby!”

The High Priest of the Kadeshi gritted his teeth as he held on to the controls, swinging the Mothership towards the enemy. Each time the ramming head was thrusted at the Bentusi, it was dodged, as the nimble Tradeship continued firing its ion cannons. From the Needle Mothership, thousands of Swarmers flew out like people evacuating a burning building. Gyrating like synchronized swimmers, they twirled past the Bentusi, docked with a nearby Needle Mothership, and hyperspaced away.

Meanwhile, Admiral Fok-Yu had retreated to his cabin. He discreetly pulled an antenna out of his ear, and whispered, “Hot Chick to Momma Bird, Hot Chick to Momma Bird, do you read me?”
A tiny Taiidani hacker-chip, implanted deep within Fleet Intelligence’s AI banks suddenly activated. In a matter of moments, over half of Fleet Intel’s mainframe was under it’s control. The single speaker in the cabin replied.
“This is… Taiidani-Tech Spy-Hacker-Infiltration-Trespasser (S.H.I.T.) Unit ‘Momma Bird’ responding.”
“S.H.I.T. Unit Momma Bird, please transmit data on the AI formerly known as Fleet Intelligence.”
“We have full control. De-activating engines. De-activating life-support. De-activating power. Cooling to cryo-trays will be de-activated in six hours. Self Destruct… Activated.”
Suddenly, warning lights blared across the ship, as what was remaining of Fleet Intelligence blared, “Engines… down. Life Support… down. Power… off. Vending machines… deactivated. Self Destruct…. Activated.”
The Taiidani-Tech Assassin Droid, also known as Admiral Fok-Yu, gave the robotic equivalent of a sigh, and grumbled, “S.H.I.T. Unit… you forgot to de-activate the security system.”
“Heh. Sorry. My bad.”

“This is a disaster!” cried Karan, as she activated the back-up power reserves manually.
“We’ll all die!” cried Admiral Uup-Yuurs, slamming his fist against the control panel.
“Don’t worry,” Homer reassured, “I know how to steal things from vending machines, so long as I have a long pole. Hee hee.”
Admiral Smith looked up from his seat, and said, “Well, I’ve done some calculations, and if we kill Homer right now, we’ll have three year’s worth of food.”
“He can’t be that fat!” cried Uup-Yuurs in shock. “Oh wait. Never mind.”
“Why you… little!” growled Homer, as he suddenly reached out and grabbed Bob’s neck.
“Now, I know it’s tempting,” said Karan, “But this isn’t the time to kill each other. We must find out who sabotaged this ship! Now, I’m going to assign each of you a job. Admial Uup-Yuurs… You do complete scans on Fleet Intelligence, see if he’s the one that did the sabotage. Admiral Smith, you check how much longer we have to live before scuttle. And Admiral Simpson, you clean the deck with this toothbrush.”
“Hey! I’m not gonna clean something! Why do they get the good jobs?” whined Homer.
“Look, if you won’t clean stuff, then just sterilize it,” replied Karan.
“Ooh… big words. Ok.”
The three Admirals each snapped salutes, and got going with their jobs.

In space, Darryl gritted his construction bays as the Kadeshi Mothership rammed into his hull. He fired his ion cannons again, but the Needle Mothership was faring better than he’d expected.
“This may call for something drastic!” he cried.
“No, calls for some serious retreating!” screamed Greg, as another ion beam hit him painfully. “C’mon Darryl, please, just forget about revenge and let’s GO!”
“No. This isn’t about revenge. This is about vengeance! I will have my revenge!” shouted Darryl valiantly, as he made a quick spin behind the Kadeshi. “I think it’s time for our secret weapon…”
“What are you talking about? We don’t have a secret weapon!” moaned Greg.
“Heh. You don’t know what I did last summer… SUPER MEGA TRANSFORM THING!” shouted Darryl. The moment he shouted that, the Bentusi Mothership began coming apart. A head-like command station, containing the two Bentusi’s bodies, was extended from the back, as the upper-sides extended, protruding mechanical fingers. Then, the lower half swung downwards, and snapped into separate segments, each connected by metal joints. Mechanical lips grinned as Darryl laughed, “Yeah, you stupid Kadeshi, how do you like the little modifications to my Tradeship? Go, Mega Bentusi-Bot, go!”
The High Priest laughed evilly as he pulled open a secret compartment in the Kadeshi Mothership’s control panel. Inside was a tiny button marked, “Press this ONLY if a titanic battle between two giant mechas is needed.” He pressed it.
Instantly, massive jets of steam hissed from new cracks in the Needle-Mothership’s hull, as the frontal cap split into four sections, then split in half again. The long tail detached, and miraculously segmented and transformed itself into a large whip. Gyro’s spun, as a small head, containing the bridge, popped out from between the two smooth, ivory, organic-looking arms which were once a part of the frontal cap. Garden Mecha-bot was born.
Darryl, in the Mega Bentusi-Bot, un-sheathed dual blades, which were actually the frontal “fins” of the Tradeship. “Kadeshi scum… fear my Super Swords of Doom!” he mocked, “For you’re big robot is no match for mine!”
The High Priest snapped his whip in return, and growled, “Just… bring it on.”

Inside the Mothership, complete chaos was afoot. The hundreds of crew, all praying to their gods, or running around screaming. Cooks, engineers, mechanics, throwing themselves down in futility. But deep within the storm, there was calm. And that calm was Fok-Yu. He carefully watched over the images Momma Bird was sending to him. His eyes narrowed as he noticed each of the other Fleet Admirals, doing their tasks. “S.H.I.T. Unit… be wary. Apparently, Uup-Yuurs has begun a scan on Fleet Intelligence, and Homer Simpson has entered the mainframe data storage chamber, and is starting to destroy it,” informed Fok-Yu.
“My capabilities are not infinite, you know,” said the S.H.I.T Unit indignantly. “Although I can handle the one called Uup-Yuurs quite easily, this Simpson man cannot be destroyed if he is in the mainframe chamber. You will have to deal with him yourself.”
“Then I shall…”
In the mainframe data storage chamber, Homer quietly whistled as he scrubbed away at the circuitry on the ground, working to make it sparkly clean, or rather, sterilized. It was a wonder why he still hadn’t caught on yet. He carefully dipped the toothbrush into a small cup of water, and then rubbed over the copper, entirely failing to notice hundreds of components around him popping as the circuits he washed shorted. The Taiidani Hacker unit worked to bypass the damage, forgetting about his task to destroy Uup-Yuurs. Suddenly, the door burst open as the silhouette of Fok-Yu appeared, his arm-blades whirring.
Without a word, Fok-Yu’s arm shot forward, it’s razor-sharp point just barely missing Homer, who had moved away at the moment to pick up a penny on the ground. Homer suddenly stood up, and said, “Show me that again!” Fok-Yu did just that, as both arms shot forwards again and again at Homer’s smiling face. Finally, Homer grabbed both arms and spoke, “You’re doing it all wrong. Moe does that way better than you do. Not bad for a beginner, but… just not good enough.” Homer smiled, and Fok-Yu’s logic circuits then exploded. Repair bots surrounded the droid’s head, as Homer stepped out of the mainframe room, and headed up to the galley to get some food.
Up in the Bridge, Admiral Uup-Yuurs had detected the S.H.I.T. Unit. He quickly activated Naabal Anti-Virus and deleted the S.H.I.T. Unit’s software, wiping it out, and restoring all systems to normal.
And elsewhere, Admiral Smith took in the flavor of his cigar, as he laid back lazily on a hammock in his personal cabin. The self-destruct had been activated—but it was due to explode in 900 trillion years. All seemed well in the Mothership; Homer was full, Uup-Yuurs had done another job well done, Fok-Yu was temporarily immobilized, and Admiral Smith would soon report how he had so valiantly saved the Mothership with his incredible programming skills.
Karan Sjet, after checking over all the data, congratulated the Admirals, and activated Hyperspace.

Outside, as the Mothership left, the battle raged on, as weapons clashed and two giant mechas swung around each other, punching and kicking like two boxers on drugs. The moment the Bentusi managed to lay a punch, the Kadeshi would respond with a tremendous kick. And each time the Kadeshi kicked the Bentusi, they would retaliate with another punch. And this went on…

[Alpha_Monkey]

One word: WOOHOO!

Good worh Sephir

[Weavern]

More sephir, more ............................... Good stuff, common chapter 10.

[Legolas]

I don't even know why I read this, or even kept reading it. . .
Perhaps for some odd reason I thought it was funny. I do not like the simpsons so this is truly strange.

More please? I think?

[SephirCloud]

What you've all been waiting for... CHAPTER 10!!!!!

HomerWorld: Chapter 10-Springfield and Hyperspace Again

The flickering flames of the fireplace left eerie shadows in the darkened room. A single armchair faced the fire, and a thin, yellow arm could be seen hanging from one side. Suddenly, there was thunder, and a flash of lightning lit the room. A young man in glasses, standing in the corner, cried, “It’s alive!”
“What the hell are you talking about, Smithers?” said the voice of the old man in the armchair.
Mr. Smithers pointed to the fish tank on his left, and said, “Frankenstein! He lives! Remember, you thought that Frankenstein, that neon tetra over there had died, but see! He’s still swimming around. He’s still alive!”
“Damnit, I thought I killed that one,” grumbled Mr. Burns.
Montgomery Burns was Springfield’s local billionaire, and nobody was proud of it. He also happened to be the man who funded the science fare so long ago (last week), and Homer Simpson’s boss, not to mention the owner of Springfield’s only nuclear power plant. He was an evil-looking man, with narrow eyes, a pale, yellow, wrinkly face, and a beak-like nose.
He slowly stood up, and walked towards a seemingly empty wall. Then, as if he were playing hopscotch with an invisible partner, he stepped on various points on the floor. Moments later, the wall slid back, revealing a secret passageway. Behind him followed Smithers, who was carefully balancing a tray of food on his head as he massaged Mr. Burn’s back. Mr. Burns finally reached the end of the passage, and pressed on a brick, causing the wall to collapse. Behind the wall was a single object… a metal doorframe, with a welcome mat before it. The Hyperfield Generator.
Mr. Burns turned back, a candle eerily illuminating his face. He rasped, “Do you know what I plan to do? I plan to enter this thing they called Hyperspace, and then, everybody shall love me! They shall hail me as the man to discover the final frontier itself!”
“But, Mr. Burns… Homer Simpson has already entered the field,” quipped Mr. Smithers.
“Then I shall simply have to kill him,” replied Mr. Burns.
“But sir, you don’t even know how to turn on the Hyperfield Generator.”
“Then… I shall kidnap Lisa Simpson! Muahahahahahahaha *hack* *cough* arrgh, something caught in my throat…as I was saying, hahahahaha! Ha ha!”

The next morning, as the sun rose over Springfield, Lisa Simpson awoke from her bed, rubbing her large round eyes. Outside, a rooster could be seen crowing before it was shot down and killed by Nelson.
“Sigh… it looks like another weekend without school… sigh…,” though Lisa, as she stepped out of bed.
Suddenly, Bart burst into the room on his skateboard, and yelled, “Hey, it’s the weekend! Wake up, loser!”
“Bart, why don’t you ever wake up this early on school days?” moaned Lisa.
“Well, why don’t you wake up this early on weekends?” asked Bart, “Anyway, I’m going to go hang out, so, see ya!”
Once Bart left the room, Lisa dressed and began walking down to the kitchen. Before, her dad would usually take them somewhere on the weekends to “bond” with them, and without his presence… it just seemed odd. Even though her father always did grind at her nerves, and annoy her most of the time, it was still nice to have him around. It was like that time he went to be a missionary, except this time, we didn’t know where he was.
In the kitchen, Marge was calmly filling bowls of cereal, when she heard the kids go down. Now that Homer was gone, she had to fill in as him. “Alright kids, where do you want to go today?”
“Later Mom, I’m going to the comic book store with Milhouse,” yawned Bart, as he left the house.
“Well, a trip to—” started Lisa.
“We’re going,” said Marge, grabbing Lisa’s arm and quickly dragging her over to their SUV. Now that Homer was gone… well, now, she’d have to do his share of work too. Now did she thought about it, her husband did do a lot more at home than it appeared, like… well… there had to be something. Anyway, she still had to take Lisa to wherever she wanted to go, since Homer did that each week.

Meanwhile, Carl, Lenny, and Moe were sitting at Moe’s bar, quietly chatting about random topics…
“So… have you seen Homer lately?” asked Lenny.
“I dunno… have you?” replied Carl.
“I think I saw him at the talent show…” mentioned Lenny, quietly sipping his beer.
“Eh, I know what you’re talking about. Yeah. See, I was there,” said Moe, “And I saw him. I think. I dunno. But, see, I think… well, I’m not really sure. But I dunno.”
“Well, at least we have some clues to work on…” quipped Lenny.
“I saw a detective show once… They had this hot detective, and a hot chick. I’m not really sure what it was about, but, it was pretty good,” nodded Carl.
“Oh, was it the one with the, yeah, that, actor guy? What’s his name…” mumbled Moe.
“I think it was,” said Carl.
After some silence, and some more alcohol poisoning, Lenny spoke up again.
“So… have you seen Homer lately?” asked Lenny.
Carl, completely forgetting the conversation they had earlier said, “I dunno… have you?”
“C’mon you guys… shut up. Now, we gotta find Homer,” said Moe, “Now that he’s not here, business is bad.”
Suddenly, there was the rumble of lightning, and the door burst open, the rain pouring in. Then, the rain stopped, as the special effects man flipped the switch and turned it off. In the doorway, a withered old man could be seen.
“Not to fear… just come with me, and I shall help return you to Homer!” cried Mr. Burns. He praised himself for his brilliance. Simpson’s best friends would lead him right to Homer’s family, so they could tell him how to turn on the Hyperfield Generator… then, he could enter hyperspace, and destroy Homer Simpson! His own magnificence made him shudder, as he clutched himself tightly, and giggled to himself.
“Why should we go with you, huh?” asked Carl.
“Because I am a very rich man who controls your salary,” replied Mr. Burns.
“Well, that’s good enough of a reason for me,” said Lenny, stepping into Mr. Burn’s limousine.
“Well, I guess so,” agreed Carl, and followed Lenny. Finally, Moe, with a simple “Sure,” also entered the limo.
As Mr. Burns entered the driver’s seat of the limo, he clasped his hands together, and laughed evilly to himself. “Driver… take me to the Simpson’s residence! Mwahahahahaha!”
Smithers quietly quipped, “Um, Mr. Burns… you are the driver.”
“Oh yes. That’s right.”

At the Simpson’s place, Marge and Lisa were still sitting in the SUV, with Maggie sitting on Marge’s lap, trying to decide where to go. Deciding was harder than they’d realized. Before, when Homer was there, choosing was easy, because if they didn’t do it in three seconds, he would be the one to choose. Also, they didn’t have to rule out places that had banned Homer.
Bart, meanwhile, had reached home after going to the comic book store. He saw the car in the driveway, and suddenly had a brilliant idea. He picked up a rusty nail from the ground, and crawled towards the car, careful to make no noise. Expertly, he thrust the nail into each tire, deflating the car. He had absolutely no idea why he had just done that, or the point of his deeds, but…
And only half a mile away, Montgomery Burn’s limousine was approaching the Simpson’s house. It slowly approached, and stopped, it’s tires rolling to a stop against the gray road. Out of it, three men wearing sunglasses stepped out. They didn’t really want to wear them, but Mr. Burns insisted. The first grabbed Bart by the back of his shirt, and tossed him into the limo, while the other two quickly muffled Marge, Maggie, and Lisa, and carried them over to the limo as well. They expertly blindfolded them, and muffled Bart, finishing off with handcuffs on the arms and legs.
Then, they rode in silence all the way to Mr. Burn’s residence without a hitch. The four prisoners were dragged onto the soft, thick carpet, and taken to the interrogation room, which was used as a sauna in the winter. They then un-muffled the prisoners, and removed the cuffs.
“Agh! What did you do that for?” asked Marge.
“We’re asking the questions here, lady,” spat Carl. He spun to face Maggie, and growled, “What were you doing on the night of December 42nd, 1942!?”
The tiny baby simply sat there, quietly sucking her pacifier.
“So, you won’t answer my ow!” shouted Carl, as Moe hit him on the head.
“Stupid, can’t you see she’s just a little baby! Leave the interrogating to a pro like me.” Moe turned to Lisa, and glared at her. Then, he gripped her shoulders, and said, “How do you turn on the Hyperfield Generator?”
“Did you plug it in?” she asked.
“Shut up! We’re asking the questions here!” yelled Lenny, pulling out a nightstick.
“Now now… you’re free to go now,” interrupted Mr. Burns, removing the blindfolds and the handcuffs, gesturing them to the door. “Have nice day.”
Then, he slammed it shut, and began walking hurriedly towards the secret chamber. Again, he went through the complicated process of opening the doors, until he reached it. He slowly extended the plug, and inserted it into the socket. The blue light of hyperspace lit the dim room, playing light tricks, revealing to Mr. Burns the shadows of not only him and Mr. Smithers, but of Carl, Lenny, and Moe as well.
“How did you three get here!?!?” demanded Mr. Burns.
“We just followed you,” said Carl.
“Got any problems with that?” snarled Moe.
“I know what you want to do… but you won’t! I will be the first to explore this new world beyond the gates!” screamed Burns maniacally. Then, he leaped through the gates, to whatever lay ahead.
“Well… I guess we go in too,” said Lenny.
“Ya…” said Moe.
Then, they stepped through the hyper-field as well, disappearing.

“We detect a hyperspace signature!” cried Admiral Smith, as he frantically commanded numerous fighter squadrons, micro-managing them in an attack against a strange, abandoned ghost-ship. The Homer-1 had already been somehow… subverted by some strange field. The appearance of more enemy forces was the last thing they wanted. Uup-Yuurs had already suffered a nervous breakdown, Fleet Intelligence hadn’t been working since they’d destroyed the S.H.I.T. Unit, and Fok-Yu wasn’t cooperating. It was only a stroke of luck that they’d used remote control rather than have Admiral Simpson be in the Homer-1.
“Simpson! Go check out the hyperspace signature!” yelled Karan Sjet.
Homer quickly checked his wrist-watch like device, and followed the blip to the location of the Hyperspace signature. He worked his way back to the Officer’s Lounge… The locator was screaming now, as Homer walked towards the drinks cabinet, step by step. Then, he pulled it open, only to see the heads of Lenny, Carl, and Moe poking out through a blue rift.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” asked Homer happily.
“We’re here to save your sorry ass,” replied Moe.
“Did you bring any beer?” asked Homer, “Cuz, this stuff here isn’t bad, but, it ain’t the same as the stuff you make.”
“Um, no…I didn’t bring any,” said Moe.
“Arrgh… then go home!” whined Homer, shoving them out of the rift. Once the hypergate closed, Homer suddenly realized what he’d done, and smacked his head against the cabinet door. “D’oh!”

Meanwhile, another hyperspace gate opened up far away, in the middle of a vast, brightly lit room, filled with golden ornaments, wall paintings, and armed guards. Directly below the gate was a golden throne, lined with red velvet. On it sat a withered old man, named Emperor Reistu IV…
Mr. Burns suddenly fell from the rift, landing on the back of the Emperor, when he heard a snapping noise. He looked down, and saw the man, with his neck bent at a strange angle. Smithers soon followed, this time crushing the Emperor’s skull.
Burns quickly stood up, as he gazed at the ranks of soldiers, all silently staring at him. He picked up the Emperor’s staff, and realized what was going on. He loudly declared, “I am Montgomery Burns, sent by your God!”
The ranks of men simultaneously bowed down, and said in a deep monotone, “All hail Emperor Burns, sent by Sajuuk Cor!”
Mr. Burns grinned.

“Threat neutralized! The control field is gone!” said Admiral Smith, wiping his brow. “Yo, Karan, what ships and tech did we get?”
“Well,” said Karan, “We got a Missile Destroyer and missile tech, a multibeam frigate, and multibeam tech, some Ion Array Frigates, and Ion Array tech, and Gravity Well tech. And some weird data card.”
“I don’t think we’ll be keeping the data card for long though…” said Bob thoughtfully, “cuz I see an incoming Bentusi signature.”
Admiral Smith was absolutely correct, for when a smoking, steaming, Bentusi Mothership emerged from hyperspace, Greg immediately said, “Give us the data!”
“Yeah… give!” said the tired voice of Darryl.
“Um, sure” said Bob, quickly transmitting the card over.
Darryl slowly said, “Sure… love to chat, but… well… *gasp* too tired from the fight… see ya.”
Then, the Bentusi left.
“Well, that was short,” commented Karan, as the enigmatic traders disappeared from her sights.
“Yeah… but, we’re all fine with a big fleet, so, hyperspace ho!” cheered Bob.
As the Mothership began entering the usual blue gate of hyperspace, Homer asked, “Where’s the ho?”

[SephirCloud]

Oh, and Chapter 11 is pretty far on already... just so u know how long to wait.

[Ben Tusi]

Great job, Sypher, you will be crowned as "Read" for this stroy.

Now if only my Kadesh story will do the same thing for me.

[TheRealGigabyte]

roflol this is too funny...

i hope you all are gona like the new episode... ive talked with seph and given him some suggestions as how to "improve" homer...

[SephirCloud]

But don't worry folks, I promise not to listen to any of his suggestions

j/k, btw, I'd appreciate it if anybody could tell me what units there are in the Supernova missions, and where they are. Especially for the indirect routes.

[SephirCloud]

Chapter 11... a bit more emotional, most likely cuz of the Sept. 11th incident.

HomerWorld: Chapter 11-Homer in the Supernova

It was a calm time now… a time of peace, of quiet, of rest. Supposedly, at least. In reality, nobody aboard the Mothership was using their regulated sleeping period to sleep, but were doing other things, like gambling, chatting with their friends, or in the case of Homer, drinking.
“Doh! Doh! Doh doh doh doh doh! Doh! Doooohhhhh! Doh!” cried Homer, banging his head against the counter. “Gimme another beer… doh…” said Homer again, more sadly. He couldn’t believe it. The rift had opened, he had the perfect chance to go back home! But he blew it, because Moe didn’t have any beer. Then again… Moe always had beer… him not having beer was eerily suspicious, now that he thought about it. In fact, Moe was probably there to kill him! That meant that Homer had actually saved his own life! And saving somebody’s life meant being a hero… Homer mulled that thought over, and left the counter, completely okay now, just the way he used to be. He happily made his way back to the bridge, where Admirals Uup-Yuurs and Smith were waiting for him rather impatiently.
“Where have you been? We’re due to exit hyperspace in twelve minutes!” yelled Uup-Yuurs.
“So? We always exit hyperspace,” insisted Homer.
Karan Sjet explained, “See, it’s different this time. We’re due to near Taiidan territory this time, and the weakest point in it’s defense link is a small research station. Which, of course, happens to be conveniently placed in the middle of an active supernova.”
“Hmm… Supernova Research Station… you are the weakest link!” exclaimed Homer.
“Well, we’ll see about that… exiting hyperspace in three… two… one…” said Karan Sjet, before everything suddenly jolted back. A humming noise enveloped everything, as usual, as the Mothership slowly exited Hyperspace. The radiation was nearly visible, as it created a strange, glowing, spherical aura of sparks around the Kushan fleet as it was reflected by the dust cloud they were in. Gasps filled the Mothership as the crew viewed the fireworks in awe.
“It’s so incredible… so different from the nebulae…” thought Bob out loud.
“But deadly,” smirked Karan, “Anything smaller than a frigate will pop in seconds out of these dust clouds…”
“You’d never expect dust to protect us so well…” said Bob.
“Yes… amazing, isn’t it,” agreed Karan.
Suddenly, Homer’s head appeared between the security camera and Bob, as he whispered loudly, “Go Bob! Yeah, that’s the way to hit on her! This is my cue to leave now!”
“Homer… shut up,” said Bob annoyed. Still, what he said did have some truth in it… there was just something so appealing about having a relationship with a woman he’d never actually seen before. Something… mysterious… alluring… He shook those thoughts out of his head, and called out his orders. “Fleet standby… One Missile Destroyer, three Destroyers, six Multi-beam frigates, twelve Ion Array frigates, three assault frigates.”
“Where’d we get so many ships from?” questioned Uup-Yuurs, “I mean… the Ghost Ship only had the Missile Destroyer, two multibeams, a destroyer, an Ion Array frigate, and some Assults and Multibeams…”
“Oh, you can thank me,” said Homer. “They built it with resources I found!”
“So that’s where all those RU’s came from…” said Karan… “But where did you get them from?”
“Oh, they were in a big room called the ‘Cargo Bay’ or something… I just hauled all the stuff in it to the matter conversion device. No need to thank me,” replied Homer.
“YOU FAGGOT!” yelled Uup-Yuurs, “YOU STUPID ANAL IDIOT! Our entire food supply is in the Cargo Bay! That’s nearly… a very long time worth of food!
“Oh, it really was all me,” said Homer bashfully.
“RRRRRGH! ARRGH!” screamed Uup-Yuurs, “Homer… arrgh! You lead the boarding team that enters the research station to get more food!” Although he was angry, his scheming mind never stopped working. A good, impossible, suicide mission would be good for Homer… good for getting rid of him, that is. If an evil laugh could be inserted here, it would.

About ten minutes later, the fleets were prepared, as were the battle plans. The main fleet, consisting of all the ships except for two Multibeams, would head up the central dust cloud to engage the Taiidani, and clear out the Research Station’s escorts.
Then, the boarding team, consisting of a cargo frigate, two multibeams, and the Homer-1, would go through several minor routes, to enter the station.
Immediately after the main battle group engaged the Research Station defenses, the boarding team would sneak in, grab the food and anything else, and run. The rest of the fleet would finish of the station.
“Alpha Leader, ready to go,” said the pilot of the Missile Destroyer, the Battle Fleet’s leader. “We’re heading out.”
“Bota Leader, ready to go kick some Taiidani ass!” yelled Homer enthusiastically.
“Um, sir… isn’t that Beta leader?” asked the pilot of the cargo frigate.
“That’s what I said. Listen up more carefully,” replied Homer haughtily.
The leader of Alpha group, sitting happily in his Missilde Destroyer, ordered the fleet into sphere formation, and they began moving up the central vein. Out in the distance, he could see a vast wall of tiny reddish-orange dots… and two corvette class ships. “What is this?” he asked.
“I dunno sir… they seem to be heading our way though… they’ve got little… I think they’re mines!”
“Evasive action!” screamed the captain, as the entire fleet began spreading out past the mines. “Push the buttons! Pull the triggers! Do anything to stop the mines!” he ordered in desperations. As the array of controls were activated, the Missile Destroyer released its entire volley of missiles, which headed after the mines, taking them out one by one. The tiny red projectiles ignored the incoming missiles, and continued straight for their targets, before they were hit and destroyed.
“Alpha group… we’ve figured out how to stop the mines… we’re proceeding now.”

Meanwhile, Homer’s group continued onwards, through the indirect path, when their first opposition came: a dark, looming destroyer, medium guns already swiveling to meet the enemy. Homer quickly flipped off the destroyer with a large, mechanical finger, and activated all thrusters towards the Destroyer. Swinging around the rear, he spun to intercept the battleship, and crashed into the hull, simply bouncing off.
“You think you’re so tough?” yelled Homer, as he fired a sonic blast at the destroyer, causing several thin layers of armor to shatter and break away. As he started to move in to continue attacking the destroyer, which hadn’t even fired a shot yet, both multibeams barged into his trajectory, and began their deadly spinning attack.
“Let the pros handle this, old man,” one said, as it burnt away massive sections of the ceramic plating, dodging the blazing ion beams which emerged from the destroyer, deflecting the medium rounds. In a matter of minutes, the destroyer detonated, unable to handle the strain of eight high-powered beams pounding away at its hull.
“High five, man!” cheered a multibeam pilot, as the destroyer exploded.
“We rule!” laughed the other.
Several kilometers away, Homer sat dejectedly in his cockpit, feeling old and rejected… he felt all alone in a big, wide universe… just him and the tumbleweed. He looked out the viewscreen, and when he saw that there was no tumbleweed, he felt even more alone. “Aww… why do I have to be stuck in this stupid robot? Why? WHY? WHY!?!?!?” he moaned, rhythmically punching his control panel, leaving fist-shaped dents in the metal. After regaining some sense, he grasped the controls of the Homer-1, and continued onwards with the others.

“Status report… in,” reported Bob, as he sat in his cushy Admiral’s chair.
“Well, let’s see how our fleets our faring,” sighed Karan. Ever since they’d left Kharak, things had been getting worse and worse… now, not only did they have no home, but they had no food, no friends, nobody willing to work in a research vessel, and half the galaxy’s races on their asses. When she read the report, her moods fell even farther down. Alpha group was doing well, but the Homer-1 was virtually obsolete now…
“Homer-1’s weapons hardly scratch even destroyers… we’ll have to upgrade it soon.”
“Why should we update that fat bastards stupid mecha?” argued Uup-Yuurs jealously. “I mean, it only takes up RU’s which he, I should mention, got from our food stores, and anyway, our own fleet can do the job!” he said, pointing to the image of an Ion Array Frigate being destroyed by an onslaught of mines.
“That makes us feel so much better,” said Bob sarcastically… “We’ll make sure to analyze all info we get from the Taiidan Research station. We’ll buff up the Homer-1 so much it’ll be able to take on both Mega Bentusi-Bot and Garden Mecha-bot.”
“Hehehe… that’ll be fun to watch,” murmured Karan, as she turned back to watch the battle Alpha group was in.

“We detect a large, large mass of enemy signatures headed our way… three ships… two known, one unknown,” read the commander grimly… out of their large fleet, only the Missile Destroyertwo Destroyers, four Multi-beam frigates, seven Ion Array frigates, and three assault frigates remained… It was a mistake to have been so foolhardy when engaging the enemy minelayers…
From the distance, the outline of two destroyers appeared… then behind those, a massive shadow, which slowly grew in size at it drew ever closer… thrice the size of the destroyers, armed to the teeth… the Taiidani Heavy Cruiser.
“C’mon… we’re gonna make it to our home no matter what… Let’s kill’em all!” rallied the commander, ordering all the ships forward.
Instantly, the fleets collided, ion beams screaming through space, slicing through hull, sparking as they intersected the occasional heavy round. The enemy destroyers moved in for a pincer movement, only to be hit on both sides by the quad-beams of Multibeam frigates. All destroyers and frigates focused fire on the Cruiser. Missile after missile, bullet after bullet, collided on the hull of the Cruiser, as it’s ion cannons swung forth, destroying the Array Frigates one by one, accenting the battlegrounds with ferocious explosions, rocking the area. The heat, the glare, the ripples in space as shockwaves spasmed through, it all appeared to the commander as clear as day, as clear as the flames engulfing the damaged Cruiser… The Missile Destroyer was suddenly hit with a heavy gun, leaving a gaping hole in its side. As emergency sirens blared throughout the ship, the commander suddenly saw what he had to do. He ordered all ships to attack the cruiser’s flank, while simultaneously moving the Missile Destroyer towards it.
“This is for Kharak!” he yelled, as he pressed a small button on the control panel twice. There was everything… A pure, white light, the light of a martyr, glared out from the dense dust clouds… then, there was nothing.
Three destroyers, three multi-beam frigates, five Ion Array frigates, and an assault frigate were all that was left from the battle with the Cruiser and it’s escorts. Around them, the devastation could be seen, thousands of scraps of metal, slowly spinning on axis in space, burnt and blackened. And farther along, the incinerated bulk of the heavy cruiser, another dark blemish along the beautiful white glow of the supernova.
Finally, the captain of a destroyer, stood up, and spoke to the entire fleet, not only Alpha group, but to everyone, every Kushani alive. “As the second in command of Alpha group, I’ll be assuming control… today may be a glorious victory for the Taiidan, but tomorrow, next week, possibly months from now, no matter how much later… we will take our homeworld back. The commander was a man who wanted nothing more than to see Hiigara… hell, for most of us, that’s our only purpose left in life. And the Taiidani, those who want to take our lives, our home, away from us… we will exact terrible vengeance on them all, that is my promise. May our gods bless us… the Hiigarans.”
There was a time of silence… everyone, even Homer, listened to those words, their meaning. They’re purpose renewed, they would retake Hiigara… their home.

With that in mind, both fleets headed towards the Research Station with godspeed. All ships blazed forwards, as enemy defenders and a carrier appeared on the sensors. The fight went by quickly, the Homer-1 taking out the fighters, while the other ships easily destroying the lightly armed carrier. The path was cleared for the boarding team to enter the abyss.
“Thanks for the help, Alpha group… nice speech man. Anyway, we’re going in to get some food and maybe some tech… see ya,” said the pilot of the cargo frigate, as he maneuvered his frigate into the station, followed by the Homer-1.
The frigate slowed to a stop, and the commando team came out, along with Homer. Thirteen men, a dozen dressed in shiny white armor, one dressed in jeans and a white shirt.
“Reports show that this is a relatively lightly defended base, very few troops in it, just a lot of scientists and such…” said the commando leader.
“Woo hoo! That means we can get out soon,” said Homer.
After the next two hours, both uneventful, as the troops waltzed in and took all the data disk and food supplies, the fleets finally returned to the Mothership, where they were greeted with a hero’s welcome.
“Well, now that we have food and these data disks, we can begin a research spree! Completely re-fitting your Homer-1,” said Admiral Smith. Even Uup-Yuurs, still wiping tears from his eyes, hugged Homer, although he took an hour long cold shower afterwards… another beautiful day, another beautiful victory.

However, far, far away, Emperor Burns sat on his thrones, reading the news reports… on the front page, in bold letters, the headline, “Rebels Destroy Research Facility, Lead By ‘Simpson’, Witnesses Claim.”
Burns scowled, and tossed the paper into the fire, as Darth Smithers entered the room.

“Well, by the time the next hyperjump is done, we’ll see what new improvements we’ll have made on your mecha,” said Karan to Homer. “Now, you won’t have to be using a useless hunk of junk.”
“Woo hoo!” cheered Homer, hearing the good news. He knew that he would win in the end. He almost always did.
Then, Uup-Yuurs pressed the button, and the wavy lines of hyperspace engulfed the Mothership again; a tunnel of quantum-ness, aimed at the scrotum of the Taiidan Empire… after all, nobody said the Kushan didn’t fight dirty.

[Weavern]

Good work Sephir, sadely you probally get more attantion at HWU

[Ben Tusi]

This is "piss in my pants" funny. You've really done a great job with duplicating Homer.

(beast_voice)

Wee ... loong ... moore ... Homerworllld.

(/beast_voice)

[SephirCloud]

*beast voice*
Readers... do not flee!

Here's a teaser for Chapt 12

Ignoring the advice, Karan commanded, “Deploy it now! Superweapons never have to be tested, nothing bad ever happens when people make weapons of mass destruction and use a beta version of it! Mechanical appliances NEVER fail! Ha—”
At that moment, the speaker system broke and was disconnected. Now impossible for Karan to call back her orders, she watched nervously as the massive Homer mk.II was shot off towards the Bentusi mecha.

[Ben Tusi]

Now I've figured out the true meaning of the word "Teaser." I crave that next chapter.

[SephirCloud]

Here's chapter 12! btw, a note:

Tai Mai Shu is a pretty famous rapper, who's written the songs Chinese Hardcore Freestyel and Combo #5, online. If you haven't heard of him or his songs, you probably won't get a few jokes in here.

edit: You won't get a LOT of the jokes.

but otherwise, enjoy.

HomerWorld: Chapter 12-Homer and the Truth

In the midst of hyperspace, through the calm blue glow of the quantum field gently pulsed through the viewscreens of the Mothership. Due to make their first jump into deep Taiidan space, tensions were high in the massive Kushani vessel… especially in the bridge.
“YOU SUCK!” screamed Uup-Yuurs, snarling at Bob.
“What?!?! You think it’s MY fault!” yelled Bob defensively.
“You did it maliciously! You did it on purpose!” accused Uup-Yuurs.
“I DID NOT DO ANYTHING!” replied Bob again.
“You KNOW that my favorite cereal is Hiigaran Toast Crunch, and you ate the last box!” whined Uup-Yuurs.
Suddenly, Homer walked into the room, wiping off some crumbs and a milk mustache off his face.
“So, fellows… are you having a nice day today? It’s just beautiful outside, isn’t it?” asked Homer conversationally. He noticed the two admirals staring at him accusingly, so he quickly changed the topic to avoid persecution. “Well… I just had a great breakfast… of Hiigaran Toast Crunch. Every last crumb. Mmm mmm good, don’t you guys love Hiigaran Toast Crunch?” asked Homer, nervously backing away from Uup-Yuurs, who was dangerously wielding an empty box of cereal.
Uup-Yuurs gave a primal yell, and leaped at Homer. Even though he wasn’t particularly hungry, it was the very idea, the very concept, of somebody eating his favorite breakfast cereal, that enraged him. And even worse was the fact that this was Homer Simpson who did that. The fleet admiral who was worse at his job than Bob, and still managed to do everything right… as if the God of “The End Justifies the Means” had blessed that idiot Simpson. He flew through the air, cardboard box outstretched, like a cougar, like a hunting eagle… Magnificent, deadly, he flew at Homer—and bounced off his stomach, onto the carpeted floor. He lay on the ground, furious, getting a glimpse of one of Biete-Mee’s earlier bloodstains before single-mindedly leaping up and attacking Homer again, sending punch after punch deep into Homer’s gut.
“DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE… *gasp* DIE DIE *gasp* DIE *pant* die… die… ugh.” With a final futile punch, Uup-Yuurs fell to the floor, exhausted.
From his back, he saw Homer shake his head knowingly, and murmur under his breath, “The way they raise kids nowadays… it’s a disgrace. Truly a disgrace. The way they make theft-proof vending machines nowadays.... A disgrace.”
Homer turned to leave the room, when Karen Sjet’s voice suddenly sounded. “Oh, Homer, by the way, we’ve finished upgrading the Homer-1… So, I think you’re supposed to go to the docking bay.”
Karan Sjet, in her chamber, cut the comm. and sighed. Not being able to move more than an few inches in any direction really was getting on her nerves, as was not being in a physical relationship for more than a week. She sighed, and started counting the number of white glowing things which were floating around her.

Homer walked down the docking bay, occasionally tearing off expensive looking paintings off the wall, and hiding them behind his back, on his way to see the Homer mkII. He flipped through several priceless works of art, giggling whenever he left a large, dirty fingerprint on them. Soon, he made his to the construction yard, where he immediately froze the moment he entered. Before him lay a giant mecha, larger than Homer-1, so large that it nearly filled the entire yard. Shining sulfur-yellow armor, layered with two more layers, a sapphire-blue groin-guard, and an ivory-white chest plate. A mecha much resembling a bodybuilder who was rather badly dressed. On the mecha’s left wrist was a rectangular tube-like passage, while the other was fitted with four chain-gun like barrels, each large enough to fit a rather skinny man.
One technician sauntered up to Homer, and put his hand over his shoulder. “So, how do you like it?” he asked proudly. He’d worked tirelessly for the past few days, sleeplessly out-fitting and re-fitting the Homer-1, changing it into the Homer mkII.
Homer’s eyes glazed over, and he said in awe, “Woo… Shiny!”
Suddenly, the loudspeaker systems screeched loudly, and then, the sounds of a battle sounded. The familiar ping of mass drivers against a hull rang loud and clear, as two also familiar voices began screaming.
“THIS IS GREG HELP TAIIDAN! OUCH!”
“Arrgh! We’re under attack by a lot of stuff, come help us!” yelled Darryl, “And we can’t exactly fight back cuz there’s an Ion Cannon Frigate up our ass!”
“We’re in deep, deep, shi—argh! Just exit hyperspace in exactly six point five seconds!” yelled Greg, doing the calculations on his processor.
“What happens if we don’t?” replied Karan quickly.
“Then you run into a sun exit hyperspace NOW!” screamed Darryl loudly.

With a crash, the Mothership exited Hyperspace. The calming orange glow of space replaced the shimmering blue, and immediately, they could see numerous Taiidan ships, all of them firing on Mega Bentusi-Bot. And, a small point to be made, there really was an Ion Cannon Frigate, lodged in the giant mecha’s posterior. True, there was a Carrier Rape Formation, but this was just ridiculous.
Karan, revived from her depression, immediately called out orders to the crew.
“There’s no time to launch all the ships, deploy the Homer mkII!”
A scientist, running through the bay, quickly yelled into a communicator, “But we haven’t tested it yet! It isn’t wise to use it yet!”
Ignoring the advice, Karan commanded, “Deploy it now! Superweapons never have to be tested, nothing bad ever happens when people make weapons of mass destruction and use a beta version of it! Mechanical appliances NEVER fail! Ha—”
At that moment, the speaker system broke and was disconnected. Now impossible for Karan to call back her orders, she watched nervously as the massive Homer mk.II was shot off towards the Bentusi mecha.
“I’ll save you all, don’t worry!” yelled Homer one last time, and then, he looked at the controls of his Homer mkII. Nothing like the Homer-1, he scratched his head, wondering which button to push. Suddenly, on a computer screen, the face of a young asian man appeared.
“Wassup everybody. My name is Tai Mai Shu mkII, and I will be navigating for you today. Just a little freestyle. First and foremost, beyond compare, push the top left button,” it rapped.
Tai Mai Shu, the original, thought to be a rapper on the planet Earth, was not what it seemed. He was a rapper. He was on Earth. But he was actually a Type-Z AI program gone wrong. A secret Illuminanti plot, the song “Chinese Hardcore Freestyle” was spread across the internet, and it was supposed to have a hidden message, brainwashing everybody who heard it, to believing that they were all to worship the Illuminanti. It failed, however, and simply made everybody sing the song over and over. The Illuminanti created a several new versions of the Tai Mai Shu AI program, called Tai Mai Shu mkII, was sent to an unknown planet. It’s programming was altered somehow, and it ended up on Kharak, not as a rapping brainwashing machine, but a rapping navigating machine. Both equally annoying, but that’s beside the point.
Homer followed T.M.S.mkII’s advice. Suddenly, a spinning green plasma ring shot out of the left arm, impacting an already damaged assault frigate, destroying it. “Hehehe… it’s a donut launcher!” laughed Homer, pushing it a few more times, each one spiraling towards a frigate, leaving gashes on their hulls, before leaving small, blackened craters.
“The Exiles are using a unknown class of ship!” reported an Ion Cannon Frigate captain to Hiigara, as he was hit with the powerful explosive disks. “It seems to be an advanced version of original mechas we have encountered earlier… it’s definitely the same pilot!”
“Why do you say it’s the same pilot?” asked Darth Smithers, breathing deeply into his microphone, leaving ominous static on the other side.
“Because he just mooned us, sir! That’s the same thing that… Simpson, I think? Well, that’s what that pilot first did to the Turanic Raiders, when their fleet was destroyed! Hey, what’s that brown thing comi—AGHHHHH!” The transmission was cut short, as a thermonuclear explosion instantly disintegrated the helpless frigate.
Homer had more or less worked out the controls by now, and was spinning and spiraling around the enemy ships like a Light Armour against Heavy Armors in Tribes. He dispatched of a Assault frigate quickly, launching firing his beer-can launcher. In reality, it was a grenade launcher, with the words “DUFF: makers of fine ammo” printed on the cylindrical canisters.
Next, he turned to a Destroyer, and turned away from it, lowering his leg-guards. “Launching Thermonuclear Ultra Radioactive Device from posterior mount,” said the ship’s computer, before launching an oblong brown nuke straight into the gaping, ion-cannon spewing maws of the destroyer. The entire frontal half of it was blown away, and hundreds of vacuum-torn corpses could be seen being sucked out of what was left of the Destroyer, which was now engulfed in flame.
“Homer Simpson go to battlefield, early in the morning. And I like to, read out enemy fleet statistics, in the schoolyard. And Kushani Fighter do complex sensor scans, and he say there are six frigates and a cruiser real hard.”
“What? Where’d they come from?” asked Homer, bewildered.
“They were here the whole time, like your balls, balls, balls…” T.M.S.mkII said, fob style.
Homer happily blew away the six frigates with his plasma-donuts, and turned to the Heavy Cruiser.
“Tai Mai Shu mkII, how do I take it out?” asked Homer.
“We’ll fight alone… just like we used to do in the old days!” cheered the AI. If S.H.I.T unit and Tai Mai Shu mkII had ever met, it’d have been a sad, sad day for the Kushans.
“Any suggestions for weapons?” asked Homer.
“I highly suggest Weapon #5!”
Homer nodded, and flew towards the Cruiser. Three explosive plasma donuts cans hit its side, exploding, leaving dents in the thick armor. At the same moment, three ion cannons slashed against the Homer mkII’s abdominal armor.
“Why… you bastard!” whined Homer, retaliating with several Duff explosive canisters, which were met with heavy guns slamming against the Homer mkII.
“T.M.S.mkII… Show me how to fight!”
“Some maneuvering, some intense G’s… a little bit of salt, no MSG!” it sang, to the tune of “Mambo number 5”
Moments later, the Homer mkII entered a high-speed roll, making impossible U-turns in space. It swung around the Tradeship, where he could see two tentacled things waving at him. Homer waved back, and turned back towards the Cruiser. Now, he could feel every vibration of heavy gun round, every ion beam, as he flew towards the cruiser, back first. He carefully checked his sensors, looked back… munched on a donut… then, in the moment of truth, he dropped his groin-guard, pointed his shiny metal ass right at the Cruiser’s bridge, and let off a T.U.R.D. A harmless looking projectile; brown, lumpy, highly radioactive, and explosive. Time slowed down, the shocked faces of Taiidani officers frozen in the viewscreen. Then, in a massive explosion, the Heavy Cruiser disappeared.
“We did it!” cheered Karan, as the comm. systems were finally fixed.
Then, T.M.S.2 quipped, “So you’re cruising around in your mecha. I ask, what’s that spaceship doing in the Bentusi? Well, you better pull it out of that hole.”
“D’oh! Better pull it out. Be a friendly neighbor, that’s what I always say,” said Homer. He slowly moved the Homer mkII to Mega Bentusi-Bot, and tugged out the frigate, before tossing it into the hull of the Mothership, destroying it.
The Bentusi ship finally moved, and Darryl began talking. “Yo! You saved us! Thanks! So much! So in return, we’ll give you a cool movie.”
Karan Sjet would have scratched her head if she could move. “A movie? For saving you?”
“We gotta go pretty soon… trust me, you’ll like it,” winked Greg. Then, the Bentusi Mecha transformed back into the Tradeship, and hyperspaced away.

Later, Fok-Yu, Uup-Yuurs, Bob, and Homer, and Karan’s hover-cam were all sitting in the Lounge. Fok-Yu was bound up and gagged, so he wouldn’t give away the ending, as they inserted the disk into his prosthetic chest entertainment unit. It was titled: “Hygiene for Young Bentusi,” which was crossed out, and over it were the words “Kushan History: A Home Video.” Karan Sjet pressed the start button, and the voice of a male, teacher-like voice came up.

“Hello, boys and girls. Do you know what hygiene is? Well, sszzzsssz—”

Suddenly, it jumped to the voices of Darryl and Greg.

“Hello, boys and girls. Do you know what being mercilessly slaughtered and exiled to a planet on the other side of the galaxy is? Well, today, we’re going to teach you all about the Kushans. A long, long, time ago, these dudes called the Taiidani like, totally, shoved the Kushani off Hiigara. And, like, only their big call for help thing, like, saved them. So, you guys were sent off to Kharak. Yeah, a whole bunch of other dudes were like, saying how you’d come back. So, go and, um, establish your claim. See ya. Ok, how do I stop recording my voice? Oh, here we g—*click*”

“So… this is how we came to Kharak…” Karan whispered silently.
“Ha, it was so amusing how all of you infidels screaming sounded,” said Fok-Yu, reminiscing the nondescript old days of being a battle droid, fighting the Kushan infidels. He quickly stammered, “I mean, the Taiidan. I am talking about the movie. Yes. That is correct.”
“So… they have movies on TV now, do they?” asked Homer thoughtfully, before he left to check the Homer mkII.
“Who cares! We’ll go kill those damn faggots!” cheered Uup-Yuurs.
“Yeah, cuz like, I want my homeworld too!” added Bob.
Karan nodded, and said, “Well, I guess we’ll be hyperspacing now then. Counting down… ten… nine… ei—”
Then, the Mothership was engulfed in blue, as the winds of hyperspace sandblasted reality away. And in the construction bay, the faint sounds of dozens of engineers tearing out the Homer mkII’s rapping navicomp out, along with Homer’s drunken singing, could be heard……… Some things are just better left unknown.

[Ben Tusi]

Laughing my ass off out loud. Aisan rapper dude! LOL!

Keep it coming.

[SephirCloud]

Chapter 13 is taking a while, it's already 6 pages long! That's 2/3 longer than any chapter yet, so it'll be a bit longer.


But... just to keep you writing in agony...

The Homer mkII burst majestically out of the docking bay… and froze in place. Bob checked his sensors, scratching his head. “What? My calculations say that a gravity well of that intensity can’t stop a mass the size of the Homer mkII…”
Inside the mecha, Homer knew that it wasn’t the gravity well…
“What’s your favorite scary holo-vid?” asked a menacing voice in the cockpit.

[SephirCloud]

Alright, chapter 13, the longest one yet, and hopefully the best... enjoy

HomerWorld: Chapter 13-Homer and Captain Elson

The Galactic Core. Closer to the Taiidan Empire than any Kushan had ever been before. Closer to the Emperor, as any Kushan had ever been before. The most evil emperor that the Taiidan had yet, Emperor Burns, and his right-hand man, Darth Smithers.
“Tell me where Simpson is,” hissed Darth Smithers nervously, as he consulted a heavily armed officer at the sensor station.
“He’s disappeared into hyperspace, but calculated angle of the wave-form says that he’ll be within our galaxy, sir!” said the officer sharply, pulling off a smart salute. He actually had no idea where that Simpson man was, but he wasn’t worried at all. The new emperor and his henchman were pushovers, his officer friends like the Simpson man more than Emperor Burns.
“Good work, Officer,” growled Darth Smithers. He flipped his midnight black cape over his shoulder, and stepped into the nearest teleporter. After Smithers left, the officer pulled out a keg of beer, flipped on the strobe lights, and the crew of the Taiidan Destroyer, stationed at the outskirt of the Galactic Core, began raving.

Meanwhile, as a Taiidan shipyard near the edge of the Galactic Core exploded in the background, a black-gray destroyer could be seen, speeding away from the scene. Behind it was a wing of Multi-gun corvettes, and another wall of ion cannon and assault frigates, far away, but slowly gaining on the massive destroyer…

And finally, not quite yet in the Galactic Core, but close, was a Kushani Mothership, speeding through blue quantum-ness. Currently, Fok-Yu was running through the halls, smashing into walls, leaving dents, while Uup-Yuurs and Karan tried futilely to restrain him, and his high-speed prosthetic arms. As of now, frankly, Karan was beginning to hate whoever invented the motorized joint, while Uup-Yuurs hated Fok-Yu hated everyone. He always hated everyone, but right now, more than usual.
While Fok-Yu, Uup-Yuurs, and Karan’s cleaning droid avatar were not-so-happily frolicking around, Homer was watching an anti-gravity wrestling match video. Thousands of times more exciting than the ordinary wrestling he watched in Springfield, he cheered. In the back of his mind, however, he was starting to miss his home, and his kids…
And Bob was sitting in the construction yard, picking out a new personality for the Homer mkII’s navigator AI…
Suddenly, the Mothership jerked to a stop, as the quantum waveform collapsed. “What’s going on here?” yelled Fleet Command, as she tried to calculate what happened. Bob, who was tossed into the barrel of the T.U.R.D. launcher on the Homer mkII, scrambled out, confused. Uup-Yuurs read the gravimetric readings, and screamed out orders. “ALL YOU STUPID LOSERS! DON’T LAUNCH ANY FIGHTERS! Homer! Get your stupid mecha’s ass out and fighting, now!” He ran to the comm. to order around the frigates, while Homer continued sitting, watching anti-grav wrestling.
Homer, completely oblivious to what was going on outside, slowly, subconsciously, rose to follow the orders. He flipped out the vid-disk, and jogged as fast as he could to the construction yard.
“Let’s get ready to RUUUMMMMBLE!” he yelled, jumping into his mecha.
“Wait!” yelled Bob, “I haven’t installed a navicomp AI!” He frantically searched through the pile, picking out a random one. “Here, Homer, put it in!”
Homer shoved it in, and blasted off.
Amidst the chaos, Fok-Yuu contacted the incoming Taiidan fleet, using a covert signal. “Taiidan fleet… this is Taiidani-Tech Assassin Droid Fok-Yuu calling in… We’ve laid the trap. The Kushan will be trapped by our gravity wells, and the space criminal Captain Elson will be arriving as well… Keep laying those mines.” If he could have simulated happiness, he would have been overjoyed. Now was the time to reveal his true identity to the crew… he grinned.

The Homer mkII burst majestically out of the docking bay… and froze in place. Bob checked his sensors, scratching his head. “What? My calculations say that a gravity well of that intensity can’t stop a mass the size of the Homer mkII…”
Inside the mecha, Homer knew that it wasn’t the gravity well…
“What’s your favorite scary holo-vid?” asked a menacing voice in the cockpit.
“Who are you?” asked Homer, shivering.
“Are you… popping popcorn?” rasped the pre-programmed voice.
“No, but I wish I had some,” answered Homer.
“Well… I’m your worst nightmare… and I want to see what your insides look like!” The Grim Reaper Navigator AI. Leading cause of death among pilots.
“NOOOO!” screamed Homer. “Not my insides! Anyone but me!”
“If you want to live… pilot your mecha fifteen kilometers to the left… I’m watching you!” The Grim Reaper Navigator AI. Seventy percent of users end up in a asylum.
Homer followed the thing’s instructions. Suddenly, there was a spark of metal, as he bumped into something invisible. An Ion cannon frigate appeared out of nowhere, firing it’s ion beam. Homer quickly scrambled to the other side of the invisible object, as the ion beam hit his unseen shield.
“I’m coming closer… you can’t see me, but I can see you…” growled the AI ominously. “Don’t fire your grenade launcher, or you’ll find out where I am.” Programmed in reverse psychology, the Grim Reaper Navigator AI was supposed to be the best of it’s kind. It was, also, one of a kind.
In fear, Homer slammed down the grenade launcher, completely blowing apart the gravity well, his armor just barely shielding him from the explosion. Everything in his tiny cockpit seemed filled with shadows, mocking him.
“SHUT UP!” he yelled to himself, frantically looking around. Whoever that made the Grim Reaper AI thought that paranoia improved battle efficiency.
“Are you telling me to be quiet? I can silence you pretty easily, cuz I’m… RIGHT BEHIND YOU!” screamed the navigator. Homer screamed, and slammed his fists against the controls, sending off a volley of plasma rings, which consumed the first ion cannon frigate in fire.
“I’m still here!” chuckled the AI evilly. He let a flickering image of a skull appear on the navicomp screen for just a moment.
“Where!?” yelled Homer madly, spinning around and firing a canister, taking out the next frigate.
“I’m watching you…” said the Navigator simply.
Homer cautiously moved the mecha forward… through all the ion fire that was scraping across the Mothership, all seemed eerily silent to him. Suddenly, a blue ion beam streaked out in front if him. He instinctively slammed his fists on the controls again, sending twelve T.U.R.D.’s in random directions. Three slammed across the Mothership, carving holes in it’s thick armour. Another six hit various targerts, including cloak generators, gravity wells, and assorted frigates, both friendly and hostile. The other four missed everything.
Inside the Mothership, Fleet Command yelled, “The cloak gens are down! Take out the frigates!”
Suddenly, a panicked voice came over the intercom. “This is Captain Elson of the Taiidan Destroyer Kapella. We wish to defect, let us board! We wish to defect!”
Karan Sjet began to answer, when she realized her own comm. system was down… “What’s going on?” she wondered.
Fok-Yuu had disconnected all communications. He strolled into the bridge, and said in a metallic voice, “I am Taiidani-Tech Assassin Droid Fok-Yuu. Surrender or die.”
Both Bob and Uup-Yuurs looked at each other for a moment, then at Fok-Yu. Then, they burst out laughing.
“Oh, that’s a good one!” said Bob, slapping Fok-Yu on his prosthetic back.
“I haven’t had such a good laugh since Biete-Mee died!” grinned Uup-Yuurs, slapping his knees. Both slowly grew quiet, when they saw Fok-Yu, standing motionless.
“Um… are you telling us that you’re really a Taiidan assassin droid?” asked Bob.
“Yes… Admiral Smith,” said Fok-Yu. Then, two thick tentacle-like appendages gripped Uup-Yuurs and Bob Smith by the neck, restraining them. Uup-Yuurs opened a private channel, simulated Karan Sjet’s voice, and returned Captain Elson’s message.
“This is Karan Sjet of the Kushan Mothership. Come on in, we’ve got lots of food and shelter.”
“Sure… I guess,” said Captain Elson. “But, I’ll need an escort…”
“Our brave knight Homer will take care of that,” replied Fok-Yu.
“I heard he was like, the savior of you Exiles… alright.”
Fok-Yu changed channels to Homer, and began using his Uup-Yuurs voice.
“HOMER! LOSER! Go… protect that destroyer over there!” he yelled.
“WHO ARE YO—oh, you’re just Fok-Yu pretending to be Uup-Yuurs,” said Homer, who was now paranoid to the extreme. “Ok, sure…”

Homer steered his mecha towards the destroyer, which was still out of visual range. A long way off, he treaded slowly, lest the voice within his mecha re-awakened. Suddenly, a wing of fighters burst out of the asteroid field, mass drivers spewing tiny rounds harmlessly at the Homer mkII’s armour.
“So… you never told me what your favorite holo-vid was,” said the AI, which detected the enemies, “If you tell me, we can watch it together, with the pilots of those fighters coming your way… Mwahahahaha!”
“No! You’ll never get me!” screamed Homer. “I’ll kill them first!” He spun out the mecha in front of the nimble fighters, using his sonic cannon to obliterate them. The sonic waves penetrated and shattered the flimsy hulls of incoming scouts, interceptors, and defenders.
“I’m still watching you!” laughed the Grim Reaper maniacally. More ships were coming, including a number of Heavy Corvettes. Normally, no problem for Homer, but as of now, his hands were shaking so hard that a constipated schizophrenic quadriplegic could pilot the Homer mkII better. Homer fired out sonic blasts again, their wide-spread range of damage taking out another wave of fighters. The fighter swarms soon abated, when a far larger set of blips appeared above him.
“AGGHHH!” screamed Homer, as he quickly back-pedaled as well as he could in zero-grav. A fleet of a Heavy Cruiser, plus multiple escorts, was coming in fast. “Mothership! Help!” yelled Homer desperately. However, the entire ship was in a comm. deadzone, thanks to Fok-Yu. By tearing away the control panel in the wall, almost all the ship’s electronics had been removed.
“Homer,” said Fok-Yu, using Karan’s voice, “you can go escort that destroyer now… I have an old score to settle. Mwahahaha!”
“Fok-Yu? Are you ok?” asked Homer.
“I mean, I’ll send help,” said Fok-Yu. If the android had caught onto the fact that Homer wasn’t fooled by his perfect Karan imitation, he’d have blown his circuits by now. Still, he ordered the crew to launch the whole fleet… he’d eliminate the incoming Taiidan ships, and let Elson and his crew on board… finally, he’d be able to exact revenge upon that rebel! True, Elson had never actually done anything to Fok-Yu… but that was beside the point.
The Kushan fleet exited the Mothership, and fired on the cruisers, while Homer left to escort the Destroyer, the Kapella. Several corvettes and frigates were right behind it, all guns blazing.
“Kill them all, so I can take their souls… otherwise, I might have to do with yours…” growled the navigator. Homer, now growing wary, squinted around his cockpit, still seeing nothing. The Grim Reaper AI decided that the pilot needed more persuasion… it activated the life support, and cut the cockpit’s temperature to zero degrees for just a moment. Homer felt a chill on his neck, and quickly moved out to take out the frigates and corvettes. One by one, they all fell quickly to punishing blows from the Homer mkII’s various weapons.
“This is… Fleet Admiral Simpson reporting in!” said Homer to the Kapella. Another chance to make a good first impression, like he did on Fok-Yu, Uup-Yuurs, and all the other admirals. Then, he screamed, “AAAAAGHHHHH!” ask he heard a hissing noise behind his ear.
“Docking…” said the voice in the Kapella. As the massive Destroyer entered the Mothership’s capship docking bay, Homer flew into the smaller one, and strolled into the bridge moments later, where he saw Fok-Yu holding the others in a death-grip.
“Hey everyone!” said Homer… “Mr. Elson is here, by the way.”
Fok-Yu released the others, letting them drop to the floor, gasping for breath. “Very good…” he said. He stepped out of the room and towards the docking bay. The others followed curiously, even Karan, who’s speakers were down, watched through the ship’s security system. Several turns later, Fok-Yu stopped at just before a corner. The time had come to face Captain Elson…
Some loud music could be heard… strange, odorous smoke filled the hall… then, the tip of a boot… metal tipped. Then, a leg, in tight-fitting, tan deer-hide pants, complete with frills on the edge, along with multiple laser-on patches, showing multi-color, tie-dye peace signs and mushrooms… Then, a leather vest upon a bright, garish, and slightly stained and dirty tie-dye shirt, exclaiming in bright blue letters: Save the Skaals! The black leather vest, like the pants, were adorned with patches, stating things like, “Peace,” “Make Love, Not War,” “Love,” “Happiness,” and “Drugs.” Then, long, plaited locks of hair, followed by a grungy face, eyes hidden by tinted sunglasses, with circular frames. The last thing was a headband, saying, “Freedom,” half-covered by hair.
“Hey… peace, dudes!” said Captain Elson cheerfully, adjusting the bong in between his lips. Behind him, several more hippies followed. “So… are you guys… just chilling?” Then, he saw Fok-Yu.
“So, Elson… we meet again,” said Fok-Yu icily.
“You are like, so… not groovy. There’s gotta be more love in this galaxy!” sighed Elson, head rolling across his shoulders, smoke leaking from his parted lips.
“Screw love! And peace, and all those other stupid human things! Androids have no sense of emotion! We follow our orders, and my orders are to destroy you, traitor!” said Fok-Yu.
“Hey man… I want peace, not war… See this patch? ‘Make love, not war,’ it says…”
“I’d love to make love with you,” said Karan suddenly. Suddenly, the computer moniter to their left turned a bright red, as she stammered, “I mean, I’d love to… um, help you kill the Taiidan!”
“Hey, babe… I’d love to shag sometime… get into your groove…” said Elson, “But I gotta take out the Establishment. The stiffs. Fok-Yu here, to be specific.”
“Lovejoy Elson, you are under arrest by the name of Emperor Burns, ruler of all Taiidan!” stated Fok-Yu.
Meanwhile, Karan wasn’t the only one in awe of this newcomer. Homer, getting over his amazement, suddenly ran over and joined Elson. “Hey, I’m a hippie too! Homer J. Simpson! Have you met my mom? She’s a hippie too! Let’s go freak out some dudes!” he said enthusiastically.
“Hey, friend… love to hang with you… you talking about Simpson? Oh, she was a devil in the sack.”
“Oh, so you heard from my dad, huh?” said Homer, nudging Elson with his elbow, winking.
“Um… yeah,” said Elson nervously, “But man, Fok-Yu… it’s people like you we joy-lovers have gotta free ourselves from… Peace, man… but you won’t let us… I’m gonna have to take you out, man to droid.”
“Then let us enter the battle arena,” grinned Fok-Yu. He’d had it specially converted into a battle arena for their fight. They all stepped in, as crew crowded in to watch.
As the two contestants pulled entered the ring, Elson pulled off his shirt and vest, flexing and rippling his peace-sign tattooed muscles. Fok-Yu smugly rotated the gyros in his insignia-stamped chest-plate.
Bob ran into the ring, and began announcing for everyone. “And in the red corner… lover of love, protector of peace, the macho hunk hippie, Lovejoy Elson!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
The entire crew of the Mothership cheered, and Karan amplified her speakers, as she screamed like a little sixteen-year old girl.
“And in the blue corner… the droid of death, the rumble robot, Fleet Admiral Fok-Yu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Absolute silence filled the ship.
“Now… let the fight begin!” screamed Bob, and rung the bell.

Elson sauntered towards the center of the ring, bearing his fists. Each knuckle was tattooed with a flower or a peace sign. “Time to bring down the establishment.”
Fok-Yu also stepped up, rotating his spinning vibro-death-blades which were in his robotic arm. “Die, traitor.”
The two gladiators circled around each other, and eventually, the cheering died down. Slowly, slowly, pacing around the ring, the narrowed their eyes and optical sensors. Suddenly, Fok-Yu pounced! A razor-bladed foot swung under Elson, who performed a spinning backflip. In mid-air, Elson extended his foot, which Fok-Yu deftly dodged, as he spun back to his original positions. Then, they charged each other, appendages flying. Sparks flew, blood splattered, as their legs and arms moved to and fro at lighting speeds, punching, blocking, kicking, kneeing. Neither one had yet gained advantage, every punch thrown was blocked. Then, Fok-Yu extended his nose like a ram, slamming Elson to the ground. He rebounded up, kicking Fok-Yu in his robotic crotch.
“No hits below the belt!” yelled Bob. He looked at the fighters, and nodded. “Alright, keep fighting!”
They both leapt in the air again. This time, Elson pulled a sharpened daisy from his belt, and flung it at Fok-Yu like a dart. Time slowed, as Fok-Yu’s torso slowly gyrated downwards, dodging a dart which would have hit anyone else. Elson, pulled out six more flowers, and rapidly through them, needle-sharp stems first, each being dodged Matrix-style by Fok-Yu. Then, Fok-Yu stood up straight, and smiled.
“Match this, hippie.” His hand dropped off, revealing a rapid-fire chain-blaster. Capable of firing hundreds of deadly plasma needles per second, Fok-Yu pointed at Elson and let it loose. Thousands of deadly energy bolts flew at Lovejoy, who flipped, dived, and Matrix-dodged every one of them.
“Nobody in the Establishment can bust moves like me, man,” sighed Elson confidently. Both fighters returned to punches and kicks, Dragon-ball Z style, yelling war-cries while dodging and throwing blow after blow.
“HiiiiiiiiiYA!” screamed Fok-Yu, executing a perfect high-kick. Elson ducked, and flipped up his legs, hitting Fok-Yu in the chest. The android fell in the robotic equivalent of pain, and stood up, oil leaking from the side of his mouth.
“It’s time to show you my true power!” he growled dramatically. Then, groaning, he flexed his arms, as he was filled with a strange light. Hydraulic joints squeaked as Fok-Yu’s energy levels rose higher and higher. Blades jutted out from his synthetic flesh, the incredible temperatures melted off his face entirely, leaving only an evil-looking robot visage. It’s neon eyes glowed red, as steam sizzled off the remaining Synthex, and then, it cooled off. “Ahh… I am infinitely more powerful than you are now, puny biological! Prepare to be destroyed!”
Lovejoy shook his head. “You guys never get it… the power of love will get us through anything!”
“Ha, don’t attempt to overload my logic circuits, that won’t work anymore… I am now extremely powerful! Mwahahahahaha!” gloated Fok-Yu.
“Don’t make me go into super-groovy mode, dude… We’re all chilling, but, I guess I got no choice now.”
Elson reached down his pants, and apparently groped around a hidden pocket, until he found a small plastic bag. Inside was a fine, brownish powder.
“My scanners indicate that as the illegal substance known as ‘Blarghi.’ Effects include mass amounts of endorphins, dopamine, and adrenalin produced in the body, creating a pleasurable sensation. Do you think that a mere drug and stop me?” Fok-Yu asked.
“This is my… special stuff,” said Elson simply. In held it up to his nose, and sniffed. Suddenly, the veins in his forehead, across his arms, seemed to swell, his entire body seemed to grow bigger. Muscles grew ten times their original size, until Elson looked like the Hulk on steroids. Adrenalin coursed through his body, shutting down all bodily functions except the muscles, heart, lungs, and brain. “Now… I am the Groove-meister,” rumbled Elson.
Fok-Yu gestured with his hand, and whispered, “Just… bring it on.”
Both hyper-augmented battle-sentients leapt at each other. Fok-Yu landed a massive punch on Elson’s chest, hardly leaving a scratch. As Fok-Yu calculated how much more powerful Elson was, the hippie gripped the android by his arm, and played a twisted version of Crack the Whip, snapping nuts and bolts, as air hissed from oxygen-filled pressure tanks. Fok-Yu screamed in robotic agony, and released himself from the giant’s death-grip, now missing his left arm. He rushed Elson again, and this time, grasped onto the hippie’s long hair, entangling the strands within his servomotors. Pistons roaring, he slowly drew Elson’s head closer to his now-exposed trash-compacting unit. “It’s the end for you!” yelled Fok-Yu, as Elson whimpered, gripping his head.
“NOOOO! You can’t win!” screamed Homer, and pulled out a Kushani flag from a spectators hand. Taking aim, he pulled it back like a spear. In slow motion, frame by frame, Fok-Yu turned his head towards Homer’s yell. Homer’s face slowly contorted, as he concentrated… concentrated… and then, flung is patriotic lance. The flag, attached to it’s pole, slowly spun towards Fok-Yu. The droid let out a moan, and futiley rose his single arm to protect himself… metal clashed on metal, the spear wormed it’s way through countless circuits, and then, in an instant, the spear was embedded deep in Fok-Yu’s motionless, un-lit head.
Captain Lovejoy Elson, now normal-sized again, slowly stood up and faced the android, lying on the floor. He pulled out another bong, lit it, and tossed the match into the robot’s corpse, which began to smolder. “I told you man… we freedom fighters will bring down the establishment… it’s the power of love, man.”

Several hours later, Elson was smoking in the lounge, completely naked, enjoying the freedom and groovy-ness of it all. He inhaled deeply, and let out a sigh. Next to him sat Homer, also naked save a deer-skin bib, with a peace-sign knitted on it. “We really freaked out some people today, huh?” he asked Elson.
“Just remember… freedom, peace… it’ll always conquer the Authority, the Establishment, the cruel rules set upon us,” said Elson sagely.
“Well, Elson,” said Karan shyly from her speakers. “I thought you did a really great job today… you want to come with us and help us defeat the Taiidan? We’re entering hyperspace in a few minutes, so if you want to leave, now’s the time…”
Elson laughed, “What? And miss out on a chance to peace out with you dudes? No way!”
“Yeah, no way! We groovy dudes are together to the end!” agreed Homer. Then, Uup-Yuurs and Bob stepped into the lounge, staring in shock at Homer and Lovejoy.
Uup-Yuurs turned away, and sighed, “Put on your clothes, you gimboids. We’re entering hyperspace in thirty seconds…”
Bob just shook his head. For people who were genetically identical to him… he shook his head.

And moments before the Mothership entered hyperspace, a figure shrouded in black materialized in the cockpit of the Homer mkII. Behind the midnight robes, one could make out a skull, with glowing blue eyes, and in its hand, a scythe.
The Grim Reaper Navigator AI, sensing… something… in the ship, said, “What’s your favorite holo-vid?”
Death sighed. He couldn’t stand imposters, but REALLY couldn’t stand the low class ones. He raised his scythe, and slashed through the navicomp, utterly removing the Grim Reaper AI from the system. Before he left, he turned back for a moment and rumbled in a voice like lead slabs pounding on stone, “BITER.”

Then, he disappeared as the Mothership left reality, traveling ever closer to Hiigara… Home.

[Ben Tusi]

I was waiting for Elson, and I totally didn't expect him to be a hippy. Keep it up.

[Superconductor]

Keep it up! This is way too damn funny! When's the next chapter due?

[SephirCloud]

heh, glad u like it...

Next chapter comes when I'm less busy. (probably this week or next, my weekends are full doing community service)

[SephirCloud]

I'm seriously sry for not keeping this updated, here's a teaser for Chapter 8 so this story won't be totally forgotten... it takes place in both Springfield and the Junkyard, JSYK.

“Mom, what are all those guys doing out there?” asked Lisa impatiently.
“Oh, I suppose they just want to offer condolences after Homer left…” said Marge.
“You know, this reminds me just like that book I read in language,” interrupted Bart. “You know, you should weave a tapestry, and rip it up every night.”
Lisa, impressed, exclaimed, “Wow, I didn’t know you were smart enough to read the Odyssey. I didn’t even know you could read…”
“The Odyssey? I thought that was Jerry Springer’s life story! You know, get lost, have sex, have more sex, and come home to have sex."

[Ben Tusi]

This story will lift you out of the unreadiness. Keep it up, and you'll have the future I hope of having.

[SephirCloud]

Chapter 8. I had to force myself to do this, but it's definately harder to do simple, straightforward missions, as opposed to ones chock-full of storyline, like the Kadesh missions.
Ben Tusi, you want a good literary future? Finish Homie's World!

n e wayz, here it is.

HomerWorld: Chapter 14-Homer and the Junkyard

Sitting in the comfortable chairs of the bridge, Fleet Admiral Elson of the Kushan Mothership smoked his bong, letting the air filters suck away all the smoke. He looked at the control panel in a drug-induced daze, and flipped on some music. Pulling out a guitar from seemingly nowhere, he strummed a few chords.
From the seat next to him Uup-Yuurs pulled out not a guitar, but a lead pipe from seemingly nowhere, and jabbed Elson’s chest. “SHUT UP!” he screeched, “YOU DISTENDED PIECE OF RECTUM!”
Elson stopped playing for a moment and stared at Uup-Yuurs. “Yo man, chill out,” he said calmly, before he returned to playing his guitar. Then, Homer, from his seat, began singing along.
“Oh, the lovely lanes of hyperspace…Can’t match your beautiful face…Because I forgot the words… um… Uup-Yuurs, do you know?” asked Homer.
Uup-Yuurs clenched his fists; face slowly turning red. He couldn’t decide whom he hated more: Simpson or Elson. Letting a hiss of exasperated air leak from his mouth, he stomped out of the room. Meanwhile, Elson was showing Smith how to hold a bong in his mouth.
“Hey, I think I’m getting a hang of this hippie thing, dude,” said Bob, swaying his head.
Elson smiled, and checked the hyperspace monitor. “Karan, baby, how much more time till we leave this psychedelic plane of reality?”
“Just thirty more seconds, Lovejoy dear,” said Karan.
“Thirty seconds?” asked Elson.
“Well, twenty seconds now.”
“Twenty seconds?”
“Um, ten.”
“Ten whole seconds?”
“Whoops, no seconds.”
Then, the Mothership burst into the coordinates Elson had given them back when he was sober. Outside the wreckage of a massive Dyson Sphere, everyone in the ship, even Homer, stared at the massive sheets of metal floating about. Before them, a vast field of scraps of metal, Hiigaran ship’s corpses, laying about.
“So… what are we supposed to do here?” asked Fleet Command quietly.
“Oh… just chill, groove, orgy, party, everything,” sighed Elson.
“And freak people out,” added Homer.
Bob, getting over the drugs, shook his head and ran to get a cup of coffee. Not for him, but to revive Elson from his stupor. Maybe Uup-Yuurs had a reason for being socially challenged, considering who he spent his time with…

Meanwhile, in Springfield…
Moe, wearing his best, and only, tuxedo, nervously adjusted his ragged tie, gripping the bouquet of flowers in his hands tightly. It’d never occurred to him that tuxedoes typically were not made of plastic though… Then, he stepped in line, waiting for his turn. After learning about Homer and Mr. Burn’s disappearance, all the men who’d secretly admired Marge for years were gathering around their house, hoping that she’d choose then for a new husband.
“Marge… your husband is dead! You must choose another!” lied Moe.
“But… I thought you told me he was alive…?” asked Marge.
“Um, well… I was just… under stress at that time. Um, yeah,” nodded Moe.
“Mrs., or should I say miss, Simpson, how bout dinner?” asked Chief Wiggum slyly.
Lisa suddenly ran downstairs, and gestured to her mother.
“Boys, I’ll be right back,” said Marge, as she walked into the kitchen.
“Mom, what are all those guys doing out there?” asked Lisa impatiently.
“Oh, I suppose they just want to offer condolences after Homer left…” said Marge.
“You know, this reminds me just like that book I read in language,” interrupted Bart. “You know, you should weave a tapestry, and rip it up every night.”
Lisa, impressed, exclaimed, “Wow, I didn’t know you were smart enough to read the Odyssey. I didn’t even know you could read…”
“The Odyssey? I thought that was Jerry Springer’s life story! You know, get lost, have sex, have more sex, and come home to have sex. Hey, the Mongols were pretty cool after all!” nodded Bart.
“It’s the Greeks, Bart,” sighed Lisa.
“That’s what I said, dimwit.”
“Mom! Bart called me a dimwit!” whined Lisa.
“Well, that’s because you are one,” explained Bart.
“Now, kids, settle down, I’ll just deal with this myself,” reassured Marge. He pulled her handgun out of her purse and headed for the front door.
“Whoa, Mom’s got a gun! Cool!” yelled Bart.
Marge stepped to the door, and kicked it open. “If you don’t run away in a very short time, I’ll shoot you!” she said meekly.
“Do what the lady says!” yelled Wiggum, pulling out his own gun.
“You can’t stop us with your firear-AGH!” groaned Moe in agony, as a bullet pierced his shoulder.
“You heard me!” ordered the police officer. “We’re all gonna leave! Nya!”
The crowd slowly dispersed grumbling, but in their minds, they all knew that they would return.

Inside the Karos Graveyard, a single corvette awakened from its slumber. Sensors activated, claws clamped up and down… The Junkyard Dawg awakened. It remembered a command from its former master… he went to fetch the stick. The large metal frigate-shaped stick
“We’re under attack by an unknown unit!” yelled Smith frantically, checking the scanners. It reported that a corvette suddenly captured one of their frigates, but… that was impossible! A ship of corvette mass couldn’t possibly haul away a frigate at full-speed, but right before him, a little ship with claws was doing just that. “Homer, bring it back now!”
Homer acknowledged his order, and suited up into the Homer mkII. Suddenly, he noticed that his navigational computer was in shambles, circuitry and wiring hanging out of a gaping slash in the side. He stared at it for a moment, shrugged, and blasted off, whistling ignorantly.
Ten minutes, three collisions, and two nauseating back-spins later, the Homer mkII smashed into the construction bay, as Homer dizzily stepped out. Bob ran up to it worriedly, and found the navicomp slashed.
“Looks like the Homer mk.II will be out of commission till we get that navicomp fixed, eh?” sighed Bob. How could one man go through not one, but two navicomps? Especially when he wasn’t in the mecha when they broke? Impossible. As impossible as a corvette picking up and tossing away a frigate. He sighed, and began digging through his library of navicomp AI’s. Marilyn Manaan, Albert Gaalsien, Elvis Paktu, as he flipped through the data-disks, he sighed. Homer wouldn’t like any of them…

Meanwhile, twenty-one multigun corvettes exited the Mothership, cruising along, turrets spinning.
“So, we’re supposed to dock with some station?” asked one of the corvette pilots.
“Yeah… the Junkyard Station. And I heard ages ago that there’s some mighty weird things ‘round the Junkyard…”
“If you mean ‘ages’ as in five minutes ago, then yeah, I heard about those things… another corvette that stole a frigate from right under our noses…”
“You know it was ages, Garth,” said the multigun pilot. Suddenly, three autoguns targeted the corvette and blew it away.
“What was that?” screamed the other pilot, as he switched to evasive maneuvers. All around him, corvettes were popping, as a spray of deadly fire erupted from seemingly inactive pieces of junk. Then, all went whitish-green. Several minutes later, he found himself floating in space, inside the shredded remains of his fighter.
“I survived…” he said out loud. Suddenly, a figure appeared next to him.
“ACTUALLY, I BEG TO DIFFER,” said an ominous voice. The multigun pilot looked at himself, and noticed how translucent he was.
“I thought I could have lived,” he sighed. Now that he was dead, everything seemed clearer to him.
“WELL, COME ALONG NOW… IN JUST A FEW DAYS, I HAVE A MASSIVE BATTLE I’M SCHEDULED TO ATTEND. FLEETS AND FLEETS OF SHIPS, AND ONE THEY CALL THE ‘GREAT WARRIOR.’ GOTTA REST UP, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. DON’T GET ME WRONG, WAR IS A GREAT BROTHER, ALL IT IS THAT THE MORE HE WORKS, THE MORE I HAVE TO WORK… HE BAG’S THEM, I TAG’EM.” Death stopped ranting for a moment, and stared at the pilot. “SORRY, AM I BORING YOU?”
“Not at all,” said the pilot.
“GOOD. WELL, NOW…”

“What?!? Our entire corvette wing destroyed???” yelled Uup-Yuurs. He flipped on some inspirational music to help him think better: Heavy Guns N’ Roses, “We Will Rock You.” He’d once read that listening to proper music could improve battle efficiency by up to 80%. He didn’t know if it was true, but it was always worth a shot. Over the speakers, the rock music blared.
“Buddy you're a cruiser firing heavy guns
Killin’ imperial scum, gonna be a admiral some day
You got carbon on yo’ hull,
Thing’s ain’t neva’ getting dull
Firing ion cannons all over Taiidani skulls
Singin'
'We will we will rock you!’
Singing
‘We will we will rock you'”
Uup-Yuurs lay back, letting the words flow through him… he thought, then he made a single phone call. “Research department? Yes, I’d like to order Super Heavy Chassis.”
“Would you like Heavy Guns with that?”
“Yes, Heavy Guns sounds good.”
“Please take your receipt, we’ll be done after a bit.”

“Bart, you have to go look for dad!” said Lisa. Things were getting urgent now. Suitors began camping on the front lawn, setting up tents, waiting for Marge.
“Why don’t you?” whined Bart.
“Because I have a presentation due at school!” explained Lisa for the third time.
“Fine, fine,” sighed Bart, stepping out the front door. The moment the hinges creaked, three dozen faces turned towards the door. They saw Bart, sighed in disappointment, and turned back to what they were doing. Bart coughed a few times to get their attention, and began talking.
“Hey, guys, I’m going to go look for my dad, because he’s still alive, okay? And you guys have to leave because my sister says you distract her when she’s doing her homework.”
Nobody replied.
“Well, see ya!” Bart flipped up his skateboard, and headed off towards Mr. Burn’s house.

“Please enjoy your research! Because remember, here at the Research Development, we love to see you gasp in awe! And smile too,” said the scientist’s voice.
Uup-Yuurs cheered, and rushed over to the construction yard. “Bob! I got research to make plans for a Heavy Cruiser of our own! Start building it now!”
The Heavy Cruiser had long been an item of distress for the Kushan, especially after they made the Homer-1 obsolete at the Supernova Research Station. Building one would be a huge blow for the Taiidan. Great construction arms immediately began melting metal and assembling circuitry at godspeed…
An hour later, nothing was left of the autoguns but smoldering wreckage. The Cruiser, carved a path to the station without a hitch. It even chased away the Dog with its many Ion Cannons. Fighters docked, and all went well. All in all, the construction of the Cruiser sped things up a lot.

And elsewhere…
“Here goes,” thought Bart, as he leapt through the hypergate. Pretty colors swirled around him, and he found himself lying on a strange, metal platform. A frail, old man stood over him, holding a gnarled staff.
“I am the Great High Priest of the Garden,” said the man in a deep voice, “In the name of Kadesh… Join or die.”
When the Great High Priest would tell this story to his grandchildren far in the future, he loved it when the children laughed at this part, the coming of the Chosen One. Nobody expected the Great Leader’s first words to be, “Don’t have a cow, man.”

[Ben Tusi]

I can see where this is going. Keep it up! MORE! NEED MORE!

[Weavern]

Good stuff sephir. Hope more people can actually find time to read it

[SephirCloud]

Hmm... I've been reading all the chapters from 1 to 15, and it's pretty surprising to me how much the writing's changed... I dunno if it's better or worse, but yeah, it's changed :P

Anyways, here's chapter 15. Try to guess what movie inspired this one

HomerWorld: Chapter 15-Homer and a New Hope

“The communication link has been established,” reported a pilot, after docking with the station. “We’re getting a signal, yep, it’s definitely the Rebellion… alright! Time to start talking.”
Karan nodded, and tapped into the link. “This is Karan Sjet of the Kushan Mothership, and—”
“Karan!” said a cheerfully stoned voice, “That’s really a cool name!”
“Why, thank you… I guess,” said Karan. “Well… we were supposed to get information—”
“Information is for losers!” jeered the rebel’s voice.
“—about a weak spot in the Taiidan defense,” continued Karan dryly.
“Oh, weak spot… uh, Silent Bob, do you remember any weak spots?”
“…”
“Hey, that’s right! Right, it’s a big round thingy. With a hyperspace thing inside. Here’s the coordinates. Now, we gotta go.”
The comm. link switched off, leaving Karan alone on the system. She quickly put focus on her bridge cameras, focusing on Admiral Smith, Admiral Simpson, Admiral Elson, and Admiral Uup-Yuurs. “Hey, good news. The rebels have told us the location of the weakest link in the Taiidan defense!”
“What is it?” asked Uup-Yuurs.
“Um, a big round thingy with a hyperspace thing inside,” said Karan sheepishly.
“Oh, big round thingy’s. I’m an expert on those,” boasted Homer.
“Oh really,” asked Uup-Yuurs sarcastically. “Well, enlighten us all with your knowledge.”
“Well, they’re big. And they’re also,” Homer paused as he searched for a big, impressive word, “Circular. And they can be found everywhere. If you don’t know that, Uup-Yuurs, then up yours! Hee hee hee!”
Uup-Yuurs sighed, and rubbed his temples. The fool…
“Don’t fight again, you guys,” said Karan. “We’re entering hyperspace now, ok. Now, shut up. Please.”
Then, the Mothership was enveloped by a blue rectangle of quantum-ness, as it pulled out of the highway of reality. Homer felt hundreds of pounds of weight lift off him, as he began entering hyperspace. Like getting stoned at a bad disco, the colors began swirling off the walls, and fading into a blue, as the Mothership passed the rift. Then, it was all normal again, with only the constant blue glow to remind them that they were in hyperspace.

Twelve hours later, several dozen pilots sat in the debriefing room, as Bob began explaining battle tactics.
“From the plans we got from the Taiidan rebels, we now know that we are up against a large sphere of ion cannon frigates, surrounding a hyperspace gate. The Empire obviously expected opposition from large fleets of capital ships, and are not expecting a small group of one-man fighters to be a challenge. And that is where the weakness that we have discovered comes into play. We have found one harvester transport route which leads directly to the Hyperspace gates. If we could fire a single homing missile into that route, then it would head straight towards the gate, and cause a chain reaction which would destroy the entire defensive sphere. Any questions?”
Homer raised his hand. “May I go to the restroom?” he asked urgently.
“Yes, you may,” said Bob. “Any other questions?”
“Yeah,” said a pilot, “If we’re all piloting one man fighters, then how are we gonna have homing missiles?”
“Research reports that after studying Turanic corvette frames, we may be able to fit missile launchers onto our fighters. However, ammo will be limited,” answered Bob. “So, are we all ready to rumble?” he continued.
“Yes ma’am,” said Homer as he returned. Bob glared and him, as Homer obliviously sat down. He turned back, when he saw the pilot who’d asked about the missiles. “Hey! You’re Mark Hamill! Remember me? I was your bodyguard once!” Homer said excitedly.
“What are you talking about? My name isn’t Mark, it’s Luke. Luke Sjetwalker.”
“Oh. I guess I don’t know you then,” said Homer disappointedly.
“Well, I’m glad for your reunion, but we’re exiting hyperspace in less than a minute! Suit up, and prepare to launch!”

“So… the Rebels have come,” said the nasal voice of Darth Smithers. He’d just arrived at the base less than an hour ago.
“They underestimate the power of our battle station!” laughed an Imperial officer. “They believe it to be a mere hyperspace gate, when it truly is… the Death Hyperspace Gate! Nothing can defeat it!”
“Fool!” growled Darth Smithers. “The power of your battle station is nothing compared to the power of the Death Hyperspace Gate!”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” said the officer.
“Oh, my mistake. I’m sorry sir,” said Darth Smithers meekly.
“Well, I see you two have been getting along,” said somebody as they just stepped in. “Lord Smithers, an honor to meet you.”
“Oh, dear! Are you Grand Moff Fiirkan? May I please have your autograph?” cheered Smithers excitedly. He’d heard about the man, and how much power he had.
“Of course… but now, to target our Death Hyperspace Gate Superlaser at the Exile’s Mothership!” laughed Fiirkan.

“Bob… there’s a pair of legs sticking out of the Homer mkII,” said Homer.
“Yes, I know, isn’t it brilliant?” said Bob excitedly.
“It looks like it has two p—” whined Homer, before Bob interrupted.
“It’s your new navicomp! I just welded Fok-Yuu without his Taiidan programming into there! No emotions, nothing to distract you!” Bob congratulated himself silently on his brilliant idea.
“Oh, the guy I killed. That’s ok then,” agreed Homer. As he climbed into his Homer mkII, the other pilots entered their own scouts. It was time to take on the Taiidan.
Out of the Mothership, thirty-one fighters and a frigate burst out, heading straight towards the giant sphere of Ion Cannon frigates.
“Go for the central trench!” urged Admiral Smith, as he quickly watched over the battle. Suddenly, he noticed something wrong. Very wrong. More wrong than his mother. From the center of the sphere, a power spike was slowly rising, releasing massive amounts of energy. A special sort of energy that only class six lasers had… “They’re going to fire a superlaser at us!”
Simultaneously, the entire sphere began slowly shifting towards the Mothership.
“T-minus thirty minutes,” laughed Firkaan wildly, cackling away.
Outside, the wing continued towards the sphere. Ion cannons blazed away at them, missing pathetically. The fighters spun outside the trench for some time, before the final check was made.
“Red one, reporting in.”
“Wassup! This is Red two!”
“Hehehe… Red three, calling in.”
“The name’s four. Red four.”
“Luke Sjetwalker, Red five, calling in.”
“Do you have any donuts?” asked Homer curiously, digging through the Homer mkII’s built-in fridge.
“Um, let’s just go in,” said Red one. He turned towards the trench, and turned in.

“They’ve breached our first line!” yelled Darth Smithers frantically, as reports showed multiple fighters heading towards the Ion Cannon Sphere’s axis.
“Nothing can stop us! Hahaha!” boasted Fiirkan. If power were a drug, then the police would have busted him years ago.
“I’m going to go launch my own fighter squadron then,” said Smithers. He rushed to the Hyperspace gate’s docking bay, where row after row of Scouts, and his own personal interceptor was. Out of the field of view of the rebel pilots, numerous Taiidan ships burst out of the sphere…

“Twenty seconds away from the route!” shouted Red one. “Fifteen! Fo-aggggghhhhh!” His voice was cut off, as a Taiidan scout blew him to smithereens.
“Enemy fighters!” yelled Luke, immediately turning away from the trench. “Battleball or Evil Scouts?” he asked, ask he swiveled and hit an enemy scout directly on the engines.
“Evil scouts!” screamed another pilot as he just barely avoided a spray of fire. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an interceptor appeared and erased his scout from the scene.
“Then everybody! Mash your ‘z’ buttons and take out the fighters, I’m going in!” yelled Luke. He turned his scout back to the trench, and continued onwards. Ion fire blazed around him as he headed towards the single weak point, the harvester route. There was still a long way to go…
Scouts, Taiidan and Kushan, dog-fought each other at break-neck G’s. Both sides had activated speed boost and were turning U-turns in space, while their guns pounded away at both sides. Ships popped like popcorn as each stray mass driver round would pierce a cockpit and destroy a scout. Soon, Only Darth Smithers was left… the interceptor changed course, and began heading for Luke’s scout.
“Homer, where are you?” screamed Luke, as he checked his sensors. Only him and the Taiidan were in sight.
“Oh, I went back to the Mothership to get some more food,” Homer explained, with his mouth full. Behind him, a red-faced Uup-Yuurs was visible, clenching his fists.
“You bastard!” shouted Luke. He turned back to his screen, and pulled out his targeting computer. Ten seconds…
“Put down the targeting comp!” yelled Homer, “I saw this in a movie! Trust me! Use the Force, Luke!”
Smithers activated his own targeting computer… Luke’s scout was getting closer to his cross-hairs every second…
“Use the Force…!”
Luke sighed, and shoved away the targeting computer. He lined up his sights, and felt a strange calm flow through him… closer… closer… then, he saw that it was right. But he waited a microsecond, until it felt right. Then, he pressed the trigger, and let the homing missile go.
Every passing moment was like an eternity to everybody. But once the first second or so passed, Luke knew he’d missed. Not just by a little. By a LOT. The missiles flew harmlessly by the route, and ended up detonating harmlessly against a frigate. He’d missed. Then, he died as Darth Smithers fired at his scout, killing Luke in about twelve seconds. Not including screaming and twitching time.
In the massive Kushan flagship, however, things suddenly became very quiet, as they saw their last hope suddenly die. Now, there was nothing left for them to stop the entire sphere with. True, there was always a large battle fleet, but killing them the normal way just wasn’t any fun… Then, as Karan watched Homer eating a donut, she had brilliant idea.
“Hey, Homer, do you know what’s inside the Death Hyperspace Gate?” she teased.
“Why, of course I do,” said Homer.
“Well, there’s a leprechaun in there, and if you fire a homing missile down the harvester’s traveling path, the leprechaun will give you a donut.”
“Mmm… donuts…” sighed Homer, “I need a donut!” Dropping the donut he was eating on the ground, he rushed towards the docking bay. Halfway through, he stopped, and ran back to where he was, grabbed the dropped donut, and popped it into his mouth. Then, he headed back to the mecha. At full speed, it was propelled towards the Taiidan Resource Collector’s exit path, as he loaded a special homing missile into his beer-can launcher barrel. Darth Smithers had already gone back to Hiigara for his coffee break, and was nowhere to be found. Homer continued towards the weak point… and then, he fired his missile. With deadly accuracy, it swerved straight towards the Hyperspace Gate, and flew into the docking bay. It continued skidding across the newly-waxed floor, and lodged itself into a vending machine. Three seconds later, it detonated, spewing a certain fizzy drink across the entire section of the Gate, as it exploded. Nearby sections, heavily damaged, also detonated, one by one, until finally, a massive, physically impossible, but cinematically correct explosion erased the entire Taiidan defense sphere from the face of the universe.
“We did it!” cheered Karan, security cameras bouncing up and down.
“Well… at least he can do something right,” commented Uup-Yuurs disappointedly.
“He did it! He did it! He did it! He blew up the Hyperspace Gate! Oh shit, I think that I sold insurance to them before…” moaned Bob.
And where the gate used to be, the Homer mkII flew around, searching for the magical donut-giving leprechaun.
And at the Taiidan Resistance’s base, two men with the mothers of all hangovers woke up, wondering why there was a map of the most heavily defended Taiidan defensive outpost glued to their heads.

Some time later, the entire crew of the Mothership was lounging in the cafeteria, sipping beer from wine glasses, enjoying delicious roast beef, roast pork, glazed donuts with fruity filling, and a whole roast turkey. Even Karan Sjet, in the body of a repair droid numbered R2-P0, joined the feast, placing food on her olfactory sensors and placing it back on the plate. Then, in the middle of it all, per schedule, the auto-pilot engaged hyperspace to go deeper into Taiidan territory.
And cleaning the vomit off the walls of the cafeteria took almost a week afterwards. Hyperspace and food just didn’t mix.

[Ben Tusi]

Dude, we're getting close to a cliamtic finish! Keep it up, with the last three (or so) chapters!

[Weavern]

This is all I have to say

[SephirCloud]

more like 2 chapters and an epilogue... But I'm sure the last will be long.

Oh, and I'll write a proluge too...

[SephirCloud]

Chapter 16! Chapter 16! EEK! 8)

HomerWorld: Chapter 16-The Four Asteroids of Apocalypse

“Emergency hyperspace warning!” blared an automated message over the speakers over and over again, “Emergency hyperspace warning! You are all going to be destroyed! Emergency hyperspace warning!”
“Damnit, who programmed the alarm message,” groaned Uup-Yuurs as he slowly got out of his bed.
“Emergency hyperspace warning!” screamed the sirens again, jolting anybody who was still asleep into a rather groggy half-awakened state.
“C’mon, everybody, wake up!” insisted Karan. “We’ve exited hyperspace for some reason, and we’re not at Hiigara yet!”
As the Fleet Admirals awoke, each one of them sprinted to the bridge, where they discovered Homer standing suspiciously in front of the hyperspace console.
“Homer,” growled Uup-Yuurs, “What did you just do?”
As Biete-Mee shifted over to cover up an up-turned coffee mug, with an accompanying coffee spillage and several donut crumbs, he stammered with his mouth full, “Whatever are you talking about, buddy old pal? Oh, these coffee spills? It was Biete-Mee’s fault! I swear!”
“Homer… Biete-Mee’s dead,” said Uup-Yuurs coldly.
Homer thought for a few moments, then hit himself on the head. “D’oh!”
Then, late as always, Admiral Elson swaggered into the room, rubbing his head. “Dude, what’s going on?” he moaned. Doing heavy drugs twenty-three hours a day was nice and all, but for just that one hour, he always regretted the other twenty-three.
“Well,” said Uup-Yuurs matter-of-factly, “Somebody *cough cough Homer cough* spilt coffee over the hyperspace console.”
“Well, there doesn’t seem to be any activity on the sensors, so we’ll probably be alright,” said Bob.
“Are you sure, man? These four yellow dots don’t look so good to me,” nodded Elson, “Reminds me of the Establishment. What a downer.”
The roidbeasts awakened from their slumber… they sensed a hyperspace signature. It had been so long since anything other than a Taiidan hyperspace signature had appeared… They’d gotten used to those long ago. But these new ones irritated their sensitive organs… They spun into formation, and one fired off radio waves from specially a evolved organ, straight towards the signature.
“We are the four… translation… asteroids of Apo, Ca, Ly, and Pse.”
Karan received the transmission, and re-arranged the syllables in her head. “The four Asteroids of Apocalypse? Har har har, let me guess… Death, War, Famine and Plague?” she asked sarcastically. Imagine, finding themselves closer to the heart of enemy territory than ever before, and getting a prank transmission.
“Incorrect,” replied the roidbeast. “We are Apo, Ca, Ly, and Pse. I am Apo.”
Karan shook her head. Creepy.
Then, another asteroid spun on the sensors, heading towards the first one, Apo. “I am Pse,” it transmitted simply, before colliding with Apo. “Now, we are Apopse,” said an eerie echoing voice.
“What’s going on?” asked Karan urgently. The sensors indicated the two other strange asteroid signatures moving towards Apopse.
“This is Ly,” said another roidbeast, colliding with Apopse. “We are Apolypse. You irritate our beings. We will destroy you, we and our masters.”
“Crap! I’ve detected a HUGE hyperspace signature behind the weird asteroid signatures!” reported Bob nervously.
“How huge?” questioned Uup-Yuurs”
“As huge as your bloated head,” drawled Elson in reply, staring at the sensor screen.
Then, another transmission arrived. “And I am Ca,” said the final voice, before a burst of static filled the air. Then, in four deep, ominous, and metallically synchronized voices, the asteroid transmitted, “We were four. Now, we are Apocalypse. We aim for the headshot.” It started moving. And behind it, a massive fleet of Taiidan ships also moved.
“What are we going to do?” panicked Karan, searching data files for any possible information on the strange creatures they were dealing with.
“Blow them up! Send in a million ships and send them to the deepest layer of hell!” cheered Uup-Yuurs enthusiastically. Finally, a nice, simple, head-on, fleet-to-fleet battle that he could control.
“They’re amateurs,” agreed Elson. “Apocalypse is for losers. Oblivion forever! The big O!”
“Let’s go freak them out,” said Homer, now dressed in his deer-skin hippie uniform.
“I say we negotiate,” said Bob stupidly. He actually agreed with Uup-Yuurs, but admitting to that was like giving head to an orangutan with dubious personal hygiene—something you didn’t want to do.
“Erm… I like Uup-Yuurs’s idea the most,” said Karan. “We can’t afford to take risks, not now. Deploy all fleets… CHARGE!”
Three minutes later, all ships were docked, and ready to go. The plan was to engage the Taiidan fleet, while letting the Homer mkII destroy the Four Asteroids of Apocalypse. The ships burst out, and cruised forward, lead on by the hefty bulk of a Heavy Cruiser. In seemingly a moment, the fighting began.
The mecha orbited the asteroid, firing shot after shot of plasma donuts and beer cans. Explosions rocked the Headshot Asteroid, but there seemed to be no effect on it at all. Flares of yellow, red, flickering mushroom flames, protruded from the rocky hull, but once they dissipated, not a mark would be left.
The rest of the fleet, however, was having much more luck. Heavy guns shattered frigates, while dozens of ion beams slashed apart at the Taiidani Heavy Cruiser. A billowing cloud of missiles swept away fighters like nothing. First true victory was felt when the enemy Heavy Cruiser was destroyed, spraying debris across the battlefield. Soon afterwards, enemy destroyers were erased, one by one. And so far, the only losses taken were four Ion Cannon Frigates and an Ion Array Frigate. And the imperial vessels were still taking heavy hits from the concentrated fire of numerous Kushan vessels, which were giving hell to the less than well trained Taiidan soldiers. If Emperor Burns hadn’t cut the military budget, then they might have been worthier opponents, but now, the only thing that worried anybody was the Headshot Asteroid.
Some time later, the entire Taiidan fleet had been reduced to rubble, with minimal Kushan losses. The fleet had docked, and was relaxing in the entertainment chamber, watching Homer fight the Asteroid, while munching on popcorn.
“You can’t win!” screamed Homer again, as he fired off several of his T.U.R.D. projectiles, and began punching the asteroid, leaving only tiny dents. Now panicking, he screamed, “I’m not a praying man… but help me, Superman!”
Suddenly, a yellowish hypergate appeared behind him, and Mega Bentusi-Bot emerged from it, apparently repaired from the previous incident.
“You’re here just in time!” cried out Karan, “Stop that Asteroid!”
From inside the mecha, Darryl replied, “No problem, we’ll take it down!”
“Thirty seconds till impact?” laughed Greg, “That’s nothing to us.”
The mecha then flung itself in front of the Asteroid of Apocalypse, and activated thrusters on full. Straining, slowly, it pressed the asteroid back several meters, before the asteroid began pressing back. The Homer mkII backed away, letting the larger mech work.
“You are nothing compared to Apocalypse,” transmitted the asteroid. “Do not interfere. All your base are belong to us. You have no chance of survive. You are on your way to destruction. Ha ha ha.”
“What you say?” asked Darryl.
“Yeah, we’re the Unbound, and we’ll unbind your ass like we did to the Goatse man!” boasted Greg.
“You underestimate my true power…” droned the Headshot Asteroid. Then, it pressed on forwards, slowly pressing Mega Bentusi-Bot back.
“Arrgh! It’s too strong!” groaned Greg, as he shunted more power to the thrusters.
“We can’t lose now!” grunted Darryl, pressing back against the massive force, “Homer, help us!”
Homer nodded, and joined in the fight to take down the Asteroid of Apocalypse… he pressed down, straining every ceramic joint of his mecha, pushing. Everywhere in the Mothership, it grew silent, even the crunching of popcorn had faded away. The tenseness could be felt, as the giant asteroid of doom slowly, slowly, headed their way, even with the opposition of Mega Bentusi-Bot and the Homer mkII.
“We can’t win!” screamed Homer. “Ten seconds to impact! Nine seconds to impact! Eight seconds! Seven! Six! Five! F—” Suddenly, the Asteroid of Apocalypse stopped resisting, and separated. Apo, Ca, Ly, and Pse all went their separate ways… and then, in a great wave, everybody began cheering.
“Why’d the separate?” wondered Karan out loud…
“Oh… I think that’s for just us to know,” said Darryl happily.
“Oh well… I’m glad I saved the day again,” nodded Homer patriotically.
“Well… at least we survived,” acknowledged Uup-Yuurs. They were so close to Hiigara that Homer’s victory didn’t even bother him this time.
“Nice job,” said Bob.
Then, as the Bentusi left to do their own business, the entire Kushan race grew silent, as they looked forward on their viewscreens, at the glowing orange space, shimmering with stars.
“This is where it finally starts,” said Karan, with steel in her voice, “This is where we get our home back.”
“Let’s kick some Taiidan ass,” agreed Uup-Yuurs.
“The end of the Establishment… I’m glad I’m hanging with you trippin’ dudes…” said Elson.
Hiigara. Home. What they’d all been waiting for. As the blue ripples of hyperspace surrounded them, they moved forwards bravely. There was no turning back now.

Meanwhile, four very happy roidbeasts were rolling around in 30,000 RU’s each, which were discreetly slipped to them by the Bentusi… as they saw the Kushan Mothership leave, they pondered what to buy with their newfound wealth…

[Ben Tusi]

Dude, I can't wait for the final chapter.

[SephirCloud]

The final chapter of HomerWorld, just in time for the RB F C

I"ll post an epilogue a bit later.

HomerWorld: Chapter 16-The End of Homer’s Odyssey

In the quiet of hyperspace, although it was a sleeping period, there was hardly anybody that was asleep. Tension filled the ship, as everybody nervously twiddled their thumbs, waiting for the Mothership to reach Hiigara. Once again, it was the BIG day. The day they’d finally reach Hiigara.
“Oh, Elson,” whispered a hovering police-camera controlled by Karan, “It was so sweet of you to ask me out to a movie.”
“Hey, babe, it was no problem at all… especially because the multimedia chamber is thirty feet away from the bridge… that’s so gnarly,” nodded Elson, planting a small kiss on the camera. It giggled, and snuggled up against Elson, as the movie started.
“A film brought to you by… TMC! The Taiidani Movie Company!” blared the speakers.
“Taiidan? Where’d you get this video?” asked Karan.
“I rented it at a video store a few years back… I forgot to return it,” laughed Elson.
Then, the film started, as all grew darker and darker. Then, the face of the former Emperor Reistu IV appeared, and yelled, “The media is evil! Die!” Then, it flashed, “THE END.”
Elson grinned, and said, “I just love throwing darts at his face… Karan? Karan?” He got no reply. He rushed to her chamber, and saw her slumped against the glass. Unconscious due to shock… Well, the Emperor was pretty ugly… the shriveled up third eye really didn’t help his figure…
“Hey, guys, we’ll be exiting hyperspace in thirty minutes!” grinned Uup-Yuurs, sticking his smiling head into the darkened room. The moment of truth! The whole point he became an admiral! He’d never been so proud, so happy before. Not even Homer could bother him now. Then, he walked several paces down the hall, slammed open a door, and yelled, “Hey, guys, we’ll be exiting hyperspace in twenty-nine minutes!” he yelled…

“So… the Exiles have returned?” asked Emperor Burns.
“Er, yes sir,” said Darth Smithers. “I believe that we, the Taiidan, kicked them off their Hiigara a couple thousand years ago, sir. It’s been prophesized that they would return someday.”
“So we did, eh? Well, make sure they don’t get it back,” commanded the Emperor.
“Er, sir… Homer Simpson is with them,” added Darth Smithers.
“Ahh… so he his. Then try extra hard to make sure they don’t make it back. Now, away with you, I have to practice my speech for when I get back to Springfield,” muttered Mr. Burns.
“Would you like me to hold the mirror and talk for you, sir?” asked Smithers, the undying servant.
“Yes, be a good lad and do that,” agreed Burns.

Hiigara. A brilliant jade-green, sapphire blue planet, with a pearly white Angel Moon… the jewel of the galaxy. A single quantum square appeared near it, then rows and rows of other ones, red and blue. Out of the hypergates emerged battle-scarred ships, with enough dents and scratches—mostly caused by friendly fire—to explain the entire Hiigaran Exodus; at least the parts that involved a badly piloted mecha.
“Home at last,” sighed Bob happily.
“Not so fast,” snapped Uup-Yuurs, “Enemy signatures, heading our way!”
From above, a single carrier began descending like an Angel of Death, launching fighters by seemingly the hundreds, which immediately swirled down, swarming the Mothership like a deadly swarm of bees. At the same time, from ahead, a battle group of a Heavy Cruiser, six assorted destroyers, and dozens of frigates marched forward. And finally, from below, ten ion cannon frigates rising up from the depths. The silhouette of the Mothership could be seen in the brightness of Hiigara’s sun. And a single frigate jetted out.
“Die, you Taiidan bastards…” growled Elson, who’d entered the bridge. From the docking bay, more ships poured out, and began spreading out. The rows of capships turned inwards, guns gyrating towards enemy fighters… the two fleets lined up, then, all hell broke loose.
Blazes of ion fire lit the sky as the Kushan ship’s guns thundered onto the Taiidan Heavy Cruiser. The dust was blown off an old collection of Salvage Corvettes, as they flew down towards the rising Ion Cannon Frigates. Missile Destroyers and Multigun corvettes fired their missiles, their fast-tracking guns, blowing away fighters, swatting them down like flies. And the Homer mkII was in the middle of it all, firing at every enemy vessel it could, gouging holes in frigates, and carving apart destroyers. Exhaust trails left glowing traces in the sky as the two fleets fought it out, only meters away from the Mothership. Below, the salvage corvettes had already gotten their death-grips on the ion cannon frigates, and the carrier above had left. Still, the Taiidan vessels, with a single-minded ferocity, bore straight towards the Mothership, focusing all fire on it. Slowly, the fire waned, as the Cruiser, destroyers, one by one, were slowly blown away… Through the dense cloud of ships, the Homer mkII was visible. Crashing belly-first into a frigate, crushing its bridge, it bounced away, firing glowing plasma rings and canisters at Destroyer in front of it, while firing a T.U.R.D. at another behind. Both exploded, and the Homer mkII erupted from the flames, swinging forth to bring down a fist onto a hapless assault frigate, piercing deep into its reactor. The Mothership wasn’t invincible though, and hairline cracks appeared across the ceramic armor. Steam hissed from them, as massive flames flared across the massive hull. Soon though, the first Taiidan wave was held off, the Mothership left crippled though.
“Homer! We can’t afford to let any holes defense!” yelled Uup-Yuurs.
“He’s right,” nodded Bob, “The Mothership’s hull is critically damaged, auto-repair won’t be able to fix it fast enough if another Taiidan battle-wave gets through!”

“They’re not dead yet!” said Darth Smithers.
“Send another fleet! Send two! KILL THEM ALL!” screeched Emperor Burns frantically.

“Oooooh, bi-otch,” groaned Elson, “Two more fleets, coming your way, dude. What a downer.”
“Two? That’s more than one! D’oh!” exclaimed Homer, then flew around the Kushan ships. On his sensors, two pings appeared, apparently, twice as many ships as last time were coming in.
“They’re coming from the rear first!” yelled Bob, “Take them on before they get to the Mothership!”
The fleet moved out, the Homeric mecha leading the way. Soon, the shape of a Heavy Cruiser became visible, then more Destroyers and Frigates. Same way as last time, all fire focused on the Cruiser, while Homer destroyed other ships. Massive fire from the whole fleet pummeled the hapless Taiidan fleet. Suddenly, a stray shot caught the side of a Multibeam frigate, causing it to burst into flame and explode. At least half the Taiidan fleet was still left, firing on the already damaged Kushan fleet. Then, the voice of Bob filled their comm. units.
“The second Taiidan fleet is coming!” he said urgently, pointing out another fleet on the sensors. “It’ll reach the Mothership in less than a minute!”
As another Kushan frigate exploded under heavy fire, the Cruiser captain growled under his breath. “What? We can’t make it there in a minute! The first fleet’s not even half destroyed!”
Suddenly, another frequency burst over the comm. link. “Hey, you Kushans don’t worry about the second fleet, we’ll take it down for you,” said the smooth voice of Greg.
“Nothing Taiidan can take on a Bentusi and win!” laughed Darryl. Mega Bentusi-Bot appeared as a single shimmering dot in the distance, but soon grew in detail as it drew nearer to the Taiidan fleet. Then, it flew in front of the second fleet and stopped.
“Taiidan,” said Darryl and Greg together, switching to their eerie, echo-y Unbound voices, “Leave or be destroyed!”
“We answer to no traders,” scoffed a Taiidan captain, and opened fire.
“Oh, you gonna get yo’ ass whipped,” shouted Darryl, dodging the ion beam.
“Fro’ sho!” yelled Greg.
Then, panels in the mecha’s chest opened up, revealing three small holes. “Fear our Golden Ion Cannons of Hope!” boasted Greg, and he returned fire with all three beams. In less than twenty seconds, the cruiser exploded under the immense power of Mega Bentusi-Bot’s weaponry. Then, its swiveling energy beams pounding away at the unorganized mass of frigates and destroyers, the giant mecha pulled out its Super Swords of Doom, and sliced an assault frigate in half. The beams meanwhile had finished off another destroyer, and the mecha flung itself, slicing another two frigates in two, like a certain Japanese anime robot whose name started with a “G.”
At the other fleet, the Homer mkII was also performing magnificently, smashing ships into pulp. Two more plasma donuts finished off the remaining ships. The Kushan fleet reported its victory, and began heading back towards the Mothership.
At the other battle, Mega Bentusi-Bot also finished off the fleet, as two crossing blades dissected a destroyer. The poor thing didn’t even have a chance. With only a blackened, carbon-scored hull as reminder of the battle, the Unbound mecha also began pulling in towards the Mothership.
“Alright dudes! Sweeeeeeet!” laughed Elson.
“We ain’t gonna lose if things keep going like this!” cheered Uup-Yuurs.

“Our fleets destroyed again, eh?” asked Burns. His anger was seemed well hidden, but fire could be felt in his words, almost like if he were even touched, he’d explode like a bomb.
Dancing on a metaphoric razor-blade, Smithers meekly said, “Yes sir.”
“Fine then. Let them fight. We shall simply send another two fleets…”

“Don’t cheer just yet, we’ve got two hyperspace signatures behind and below us!” reported Bob nervously. He’d checked the battle data, and the Taiidan were using more advanced tactics each time they came. And their own fleet wasn’t faring as well as everybody believed. Though actually losses were minimal, no ships besides Mega Bentusi-Bot and the Homer mkII had more than two-thirds their armor left.
The two fleets arrived simultaneously, holding more frigates then they could count. The Kushan fleet split into two groups, each taking a fleet, while the two mecha’s also split up to fight. Frigates collapsed under fire on both sides, when suddenly, Bob’s panicking voice appeared on the comm. link once more.
“There’s another fleet coming in right above us!” he screamed, “We’re being overwhelmed!”
Above the Mothership, a red hyperspace square appeared, then, a long, white tail.
“Hey dad, how’s it going?” asked young-sounding voice from within it.
“Bart?” asked Homer, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, man, you won’t believe it! But these dudes, the Kadesh, I’m their Chosen One, and they’re really cool!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school, young man?” said Homer. He had a rudimentary understanding that telling kids to go to school was the epitome of good parenting.
“Um, I need this Needle Mothership for school,” stammered Bart.
“Oh, ok then,” said Homer.
“Alright!” cheered Bart. He reached under the console, and found the secret panel. He pressed the little red button, and suddenly, steam erupted from the Kadeshi Mothership. As hundreds and hundreds of Swarmers, Advanced Swarmers, and Fuel Pods billowed out from the Mothership, it bent over, and became once again, Garden Mecha-Bot!
“Hey, sorry about the rough time I gave you,” said a rather weak, sheepish voice, to the Bentusi and the Mothership. It was the voice of the Grand High Priest of Kadesh.
“Hey, no problem,” said Bob, “Everybody has a bad day. You guys are the nicest religious fanatics I’ve lived with in my life,” he said.
“Thanks,” beamed the High Priest, wiping a tear from his eye.
“Yeah,” agreed Darryl and Greg. Every ally was a good one. The Swarmers then broke into Taiidan formation, their heavy cannons carving out tiny sections of the vile yellow-and-red hulls, like piranhas. Devouring Taiidan vessels like nothing, they chewed away at the fleet, three ships at a time. Simultaneously, Garden Mecha-Bot, bearing its whip, burst into the scene, fighting side by side with its former mecha foe, Mega Bentusi-Bot. Mothership-class robot fighting back-to-back, they crushed and slashed away at the incoming fleets, four ion beams between them, taking out all the opposition. Through it all, the Homer mkII continued flitting in and out, frying smaller targets. Finally, the third wave was also conquered.
“We detect no more large enemy signatures!” cheered Bob, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Just one more thing left… the Establishment itself. Go freak on, my dudes,” sighed Elson.
“Elson, why don’t you go with them in the Kapella,” encouraged Uup-Yuurs. “I trust you all to fry their Taiidan ass, understand,” he asked, smiling.

“We have no more fleets left?!?!” bellowed Emperor Burns, “Quick, where’s the hypergate to Springfield?” he asked.
“The gate only opens at certain random times,” murmured Darth Smithers.
“Oh, crap… all we’ve got is a carrier, a Heavy Cruiser, and two missile destroyers…” moaned Burns.

And the fleet went. All the frigates docked, and only four ships moved onwards. Homer, in the Homer mkII. Bart, in Garden Mecha-Bot. Darryl and Greg, in Mega Bentusi-Bot. And last but not least, Admiral Lovejoy Elson of the stolen Imperial destroyer Kapella. The Final Four, the four Kushans of Apocalypse (not to be confused with the Gunmen, the Horsemen, or the Asteroids,) the Fantastic Four. Or five, if you counted Darryl and Greg individually. But nonetheless, this was the fleet that would destroy the last thing standing between them and the Exile’s long lost home. They blasted off.
They continued forwards on their crusade, towards the hyperventilating Emperor of Evil.
“First enemy to destroy, groovy,” snorted Elson. The Carrier, before it could even launch a single fighter, was instantly hit with a wave of heavy weaponry, completely disintegrating it.
“Oh man, that was easy,” laughed Bart nervously.
Then, they arrived within visual range of the Taiidan Mothership. They watched as two Heavy Cruisers hyperspaced away in fear. They turned to the ship, then opened fire.
T.U.R.D. after T.U.R.D. slammed against the armour, leaving gaping scorched craters where they landed. Simultaneously, the Garden Mecha-Bot’s whip crashed against the hull, leaving massive dents. The Super Swords of Doom dragged across the vessel, leaving holes, while the Kapella stayed back, firing its ion cannons and medium guns. Not a single bullet was returned in opposition. Another round of plasma donuts impacted the Taiidan Mothership, which was now beginning to steam and smoke, sending sparks skipping over the metal surface. A jet of fire erupted from the side, streaming across the side. Then, over the com unit, the panicking voice of Emperor Burns spoke up.
“Homer… if you don’t kill me… I will give you a donut.” The Emperor had played his trump card.
“Ooh, donuts,” mumbled Homer, slowly heading towards the open docking bay of the Taiidan Mothership.
“Don’t give into donuts!” protested Darryl and Greg.
“Donuts aren’t worth your friends, dude,” exclaimed Elson.
Homer looked nervously from the Taiidan Mothership to the other three ships. Beads of sweat dripped down his brow. So this was what it came to. Everything… or donuts. Everything that mattered… or donuts.
“Dad, fight it! Don’t turn to the donuts!” urged Bart nervously.
Then, the Homer mkII seemed to straighten up, as it faced the Taiidan Mothership.
“Mr. Burns… you can set my house on fire… you can fire me… but if you think that I’ll betray everything that I fought for, then you’re sadly mistaken,” stated Homer simply. Then, he fired his final grenade round at the fatally damaged Mothership. In slow motion, it slowly, slowly, spun towards it, and then, it slid into the docking bay… it bounced once… it bounced twice… then it exploded. A great burst of flame engulfed the entire topside of the Taiidan vessel, then another and another. Soon, a massive chain reaction engulfed the Mothership in orange glory… then finally, a pure white light of victory glowed over everything as the Taiidan Mothership exploded… then, space cleared.
And ahead of them, the five warriors could see an un-blemished view of Hiigara… Home.

[SephirCloud]

HomerWorld: Epilogue

Once all the Exiles reached Hiigaran land, Karan Sjet insisted she be the first to leave. Pushing and shoving, she ran out of the transport, screaming, “I’m free, I’m free, no more stupid cage!” while dragging along Admiral Elson behind her.
And Homer and Bart, they returned to Springfield due to a lucky hypergate appearance. Homer returned to work the next day, to find a very angry Mr. Burns with 2nd degree burns across his body, sitting at the desk.

And even later… The crew of the Mothership cheered, as they sat on benches on a large clearing in the forest. On the alter, they saw Karan and Elson embrace, and kiss, as they were finally joined in marriage. And right after them, Bob and Uup-Yuurs, each with their own wives, chosen from the thousands of girls who flocked around the celebrities, two of the Fleet Admirals that brought them home. And as long as they lived, all of them knew that they’d never have made it without Homer, the guy who made it all possible.
As for Springfield… through bribing and coaxing, Bart had managed to get Milhouse to produce a computer game that let players recreate the Kushan’s trip home. However, through a series of hilariously unrelated incidents, all the credit for the game ended up going to some guy named Alex Garden. Homer, rejoined with his wife and family, couldn’t have been happier.
So that’s how it ended. The Hiigaran Exodus, a.k.a. Homer’s Odyssey. All that was well, ended well, and needless to say, they all lived happily ever after. Well, sort of.

~FIN~

[Weavern]

IT was a good story sephir even though once past chapter 5 it almsot beared no resombelance to the HW mission line . But good work, we the bwers from HWU will vote for you

[Ben Tusi]

Awsome story, Sephir. Good work. I liked the part where homeworld got into the gripping hands of the "Alex Garden," and "Relic Entertainment"

[Reaver]

I WANT MORE! IM ASKING ( begging ) FOR MORE! MORE NOW!

[SephirCloud]

I'm sorry, but I doubt there'll be more after an Epilogue of a story