A Visit to Cloud City

A Visit to Cloud City
A Tale from the Glory Days
By Pax

P a r t O n e

Hunter One

Storm Runner

Hunter One,"

Finally we made it out to him. Heather smiling gently under my arm, we faced him. "I am
Gonda," he said nasally. Heather snickered at his voice. "I am assuming that this is the Hunter One?"
I nodded as Heather tried to contain herself. "That's right."
Big nose looked at us, frowning, then tapped something into his datapad. "And I am also
assuming you're the registered owners?"
"If we weren't, I doubt we'd tell you," I grinned at him.
Gonda wasn't impressed. "I will assume that is a yes." He tapped at his datapad for a moment,
and sighed. "It would appear your affairs are in order," he admitted reluctantly. "Enjoy your stay in Cloud
City."
"You betcha!" Heather laughed as we brushed past the official.
The thing that struck me the most about Cloud City was how open everything was. Huge picture
windows, skylights and open baloncies were scattered all over the place. I remember there being about as
many of all three back on Alderaan, but at least there had been something to look at back on our
homeworld. Here there was nothing to look at but the cityscape and clouds, and maybe a passing ship or
cloud car.
"Maybe they like sunsets," Heather suggested to me once while we were standing out on one of
the balconies.
Seeing as how we could only endure so many picturesque views, it wasn't long before we
descended to street level, where things were significantly more interesting. Here, strange and wonderful
beings of all varieties roamed freely, although most of them fell into the strange category.
Heather was pointing out the Neckless Balls building, or something like that, to me, when there
came a scream from behind us. I spun, catching sight of the speeder barreling down on us. "Look out!" I
shouted as I grabbed Heather and hauled her out of the way.
The speeder zipped by heedless, though I managed to make out two guys, a girl, and a dragon
filling it. In hot pursuit was a fancier speeder containing a chinless man, a guy screaming obsenities, a
person in blue armor, and a dazed-looking little guy that was driving and kept repeating what the other
three said. Of the two men in the first speeder, one was tossing flaming darts at their pursuers, while the
dragon tossed molotov cocktails and the girl chucked shoes at them. Armed with the biggest gun I've ever
seen, the blue armored guy was firing like a maniac, while the chinless wonder took careful aim with some
sort of pneumatic stapler gun. The cursing guy mainly hurled insults about their mothers. Then the
speeders passed on, and the people on the street returned to whatever they had been doing, as if nothing had
happened.
I stood and then helped Heather up. "What in the world was that?" I asked to no one in
particular, mostly out of shock.
"Just your common clash between the oldtimers and the newcomers," came an eerie voice behind
us.
We turned, and found a strangly pale, robed and hooded man standing in the alleyway behind us.
Heather drew close to me; I felt a shiver run through her.
"They just erupt every once in a while," the man continued. "You get used to it."
"And you are?" I challenged him. There was something not quite right about this guy.
"I am known as the Tynar," he said, coming closer. "And I think I can help you."
"Oh?"
"Yes," he said, a slow smile creeping across his face. Suddenly, he turned and pulled a table from
somewhere behind him and placed it between us. Launching into an auctioneer's speedy speech, he said,
"Friends, do you suffer from insomnia? Do you have multiple personalities? Are you overweight? Is your
member unusually meager?"
"What?" I said, taking a step back.
"Never fear, for from the far reaches of the remote Eastern Empire comes the cure of the ancients,
Walla-Bing-Chu-Bang Mineral-Vegetable Compound with Balsam and Protein!" At this point he shoved
a big bottle filled with huge green gelcaps at us triumphantly.
"That's nice, really..."
"Yes, friends, this single potent potient can cure all your ails, bring ale to your tables, and
generally make you feel all warm and fuzzy. Utilizing special ingredients from all over the world, directed
by once-hidden stone tablets, we here at The Tynar Enterprises Conglomorate Incorporated and Company
have perfected the mystery of the success and well being of intelligent Chinese Monks."
"Uh, we have to go," I said hurriedly, as Heather half pulled me out of the alley.
"But wait!," Tynar said, chasing us down the alleyway, "For a limited time only, The Tynar
Enterprises Conglomorate Incorporated and Company can send you FREE samples of this amazing
discovery for only a small one-time charge of $19.95!"
"Go away!" Heather yelled as we ran away down the street.
"Act now and get a FREE prosthetic leg!" The Tynar shouted after us. "Enhances your
vacuuming tremendously!"
"Geez," I said as we rounded the block and slowed to a brisk walk. "Maybe we should've stayed
up in balcony land after all."
"I thought you wanted to see what the city was all about?" Heather grinned at me. I just shook
my head as a group of men with Bespin Asylum for the Mentally Deranged on their uniforms rushed by.
"I don't know about you, but I've about seen all I need to," I told her. "I'm ready to leave
whenever you are."
"Oh, I don't know," she answered. I could tell by the tone of her voice she wasn't going to let me
off yet. I dragged her here, and she was going to make sure I got my fill. "How about a bite to eat before
we leave? I'm sure they have many local delicacies."
I nodded, accepting my fate. If it was a meal that would get me out of this place, it was a meal
she'd get. It's funny though, we didn't end up sampling any local delicacy, we ended up stopping by a
pretty beat up old cafe/bar, the first place we found. Heather said it must be some exotic foreign restaurant
because neither of us knew the language the sign was written in. She was excited; I was worried.
The reality of the place was far different from what I could've imagined. The double doors at the
entrance opened as we approached, and they had some strange symbol I've never seen before molded into
them. It was the interior that struck me hardest; while the outside was worn and blaster burned, the inside
was surprisingly bright and clean. On our left the wall sloped into the ceiling, and big windows set into
them showed a holo of a starfield warping around us. It gave one the impression of being at the front of a
ship moving very fast through space. The bar sat to our immediate right, and tables filled the area
between.
Next I noticed the patrons. I was expecting some drunks or perhaps a few criminals, but everyone
in the place had the same spit-polished look the bar did. In fact, most of them wore similar clothes, with
red, green, blue, or yellow shirts and black pants. Some wore bad fake pointy ears, and most of them had
that same symbol on their chests that was on the door. Perhaps strangest of all, there was not a single
woman in the whole place. Nearly every guy in the bar turned and stared at Heather was we came in.
"This might have been a bad choice," I whispered quietly to Heather. "I think we stumbled into a
gay bar."
"Nah," Heather assured me. "There're a few non-humans around. It'll be fine, trust me."
Seeing as Heather was usually right when she said "Trust me," I was inclined to forget it and
simply enjoy a meal, but those staring eyes continued to follow us. I still wasn't convinced it wasn't a gay
bar, but the thought that it might be some unofficial club headquarters occured to me, too. It would
explain the bad taste in clothes, at least.
"Welcome to Ten-Forward," the woman behind the counter said. I swear she was wearing a plate
on her head. I was hoping we'd get to see her serve some drinks from it, but no such luck. "What can I
offer you?"
"Do you have some Alderaanian brandy?" I asked wearily. "I need a good drink." It was half a
joke, but Heather slapped me on the arm anyway. She needn't bothered.
"What?" the woman returned in confusion. "Never heard of it."
"Of course you haven't," I mumbled.
"Do you have any menus?" Heather asked, pushing me out of the way.
Right about then, I felt a very large presence behind me. Turning, I came face to chest with what I
thought was a species of near-human alien I'd never encountered before. "They will have the live gratock,"
the guy said in a growling voice. I looked up at his face and found a dark skinned humaniod face with
sharp teeth and a rough row of ridges acrossed his forehead. A black goatee framed his mouth, and long
black hair reached to his shoulders. He had chosen to cover himself with what looked like black chain-mail
and pieces of armor. A silver bandolier hung across his chest.
Next to him, his similiarly suited companion let out of booming laugh. "Good choice, puny
one," the second alien said to me.
I don't know what it was about them, but I almost attacked the first guy. I'm not a very big guy,
and he was, but I was pissed. Heather, ever attuned to my mood, though, held me back. "We don't want
trouble," she whispered in my ear.
That cooled me off enough that I could think rationally. I nodded and looked at them. "I'm not
looking for trouble, guys."
They just laughed, as did a few of the people in the bar. "So you let your woman control you,"
one of the big guys said. "I guess we know who the real man in the relationship is."
I was determined not to let him get to me, but this time it was Heather who snapped. Before I
could say anything, she had stepped forward and socked him in the stomach.
For a guy that big, he pretty much crumbled. He doubled over and backed away, leaning on a
table for support and whimpering a little.
"Hey," the second alien said uneasily, his voice rising a few octaves. "You can't do that." As if
to make up for the intimidation his voice had just lost, he pulled out a pretty wicked looking knife. If it
was a vibroblade, though, he never switched it on.
He stabbed at me amatuerishly, and I sideslipped the thrust and elbowed him in the back. As he
staggered back in a daze, I went to grab his hair to throw him over the bar, but when I pulled at it, it came
right off, along with his forehead. As I stood there holding his fake scalp, he grabbed his bald head and ran
screaming like a little girl out of the bar.
"These guys are no aliens," Heather said beside me. Focusing on her, I saw her man laid out on
his back. She was holding one of his boots in her hand, a thick spike rose from the toe. "The soles on
these things are approximately five centimeters thick," she reported. "Without them, they'd be shorter than
I am."
I nodded and bent to pick up the dropped knife. It was made of plastic. On the verge of laughter,
I held it up for Heather to see. "A souvenir," I said, sliding it into my boot.
"How about we find a different place to eat," Heather suggested, motioning back towards the door.
"I'm definitely not going to argue," I agreed, placing my arm around her as we headed towards the
door.
On the way out, I heard one of the starers whisper to a companion. "Wow, she's hotter than Seven
of Nine!" I thought he said, though I'm not sure, I've never heard of anything called Seven of Nine. Must
be a pleasure droid of some kind. These guys need to get out more.
Stepping outside, we found that Cloud City had been plunged into full night. Bright street lights
were everywhere though, which let us see, but tarnished the clean white fascade you see in the daylight.
"Where to now?" I asked. I was willing to sacrifice leaving for food by now. I was hungry.
"How about over there?" Heather said, pointing to another bar. "Cantina Cloud," the sign said.
"Not another one," I half whined. What was it with cantinas in this galaxy?
"Oh come on," she said, "I have a good feeling about this one."
And so Heather dragged me across the street to this Cantina Cloud. As we neared it, a weasely
little guy ran up and started peering through the door.
"Can we go in?" Heather asked after we stood there a moment, and I promise the little guy
jumped about two feet into the air.
"Huh, what?" he asked more nasally than even Gonda. "You want to go in here?" His tone of
voice indicated that we might not, in fact, want to go in there.
Heather and I exchanged glances. "Is there a reason we wouldn't?" I asked carefully.
The weaselly man snorted. "Buncha loser jerks is what they are in there. I challenged them
honorably enough, honorably I tells ya! But they just made fun of me and kicked me out not once but
twice! I can't even show my face around here now... the name Larin is hated as much as Palpatine here!"
Suddenly the Cantina door swung open and a big, blonde wookie filled the door. He howled at
this "Larin" and plucked the little guy right off the ground. While the Wookie carried Larin around the
side of the Cantina, he kicked and screamed like a small child the entire way. Reaching his destination,
the wookie flipped up the lid to the garbage dumpster and chucked Larin in.

I managed to catch a little of what the wook growled at him, and went something along the lines
of "Stay away or next time I'll rip your arms out of their sockets," although it was phrased much more
colorfully.
Returning to the door, the Wookie glared at us and demanded to know our business.
Heather didn't know wookie, so I answered, "We're just looking around town and were hoping for
food. Should I assume we should keep looking?"
The wookie gave a little barking laugh and motioned for us to enter.
He stayed at the door as we entered the little lobby. Emerging into the bar proper, all the patrons,
as one, raised the glasses and their voices in greeting. The chorus of welcoming "Hellos" and "How're you
doings" stopped us in our tracks as we stood as the center of attention for that brief moment.
Then, as the patrons turned back to their conversations and their drinks, Heather leaned over and
whispered to me, "Friendly place, isn't it?" I nodded wholehearted agreement and quickly examined the
bar.
Considerably darker and grittier feeling than the gay bar had been, the Cantina Cloud still had an
air of fun and excitement that always draws criminals and other adventure seekers. Apparently, this
particular dive was exceptionally popular, patrons filled almost every table and bar stool. Directly infront
of us the bar was situated along the opposite wall, with tables and booths set up inbetween.
"First visit?" came a voice from my immediate left. I jerked back in surprise to find the chinless
man from the speeder chase earlier just standing there.
"Sorry," I said, "I didn't see you there."
"No one ever sees me until I'm there," he responded. "First visit?" he repeated.
"Yes," Heather answered. "We stopped by for some food."
"Ah, I see," the chinless man said. "Well, you can call me RBF. I guess you could say I'm the
Co-Deity here."
"RBF?" I repeated questioningly. "Co-Deity?"
"Nevermind. You said you two wanted food? That's funny, because most people don't come in
here for food. They mostly come in here for hard liquor and uninspired violence. But I'm sure you'll figure
this out pretty quickly." He walked around behind me, but when I turned to the right to watch him, he
was gone. I did a full circle looking for him, but he was no where to be found.
"Where'd he go?" Heather said worriedly.
"Don't worry, he's probably one of the Jedi here," I said to calm both her and me. I was not used
to people simply disappearing either. "Come on," I said to change the subject, "Lets get some grub."
As we walked through the bar, I noticed that most of the people from the speeder chase were
present here in the bar, and they seemed to be coexisting together pretty peacefully for the moment.
And then I spotted the blue armored and helmeted guy from the speeder chase sitting at the bar,
talking to a very familiar fellow redhead. "Pax!" I called, and the scarred cyborg spun around on the bar
stool towards me.
"Hunter!" he grinned back, though the effort stretched the big burn scar on the left side of his face
horribly. "Long time no see. And you brought Heather."
"Hello, Pax," she said politely. She really didn't know him like I did, and that scar had a
tendency to put people off. Turning to me, she said, "I'll go get some food while you're catching up."
I nodded and let her go, then went to the bar with Pax. "So what brings you to Bespin?" he
asked, folding his cyborg left hand around that glowing green stuff he always drinks.
I shrugged. "We were in the neighborhood."
He laughed. "No one but you would come to Bespin just because they're in the neighborhood."
The fairly tall Ugnaught bartender came up and asked me what I wanted. "Alderaanian brandy,
Jeff," Pax guessed. He turned to me, "Right?"
"Sounds good, as long as you're buying," I answered.
Jeff, the Ugnaught bartender gave me a curt nod and delivered my drink. Damn good brandy,
especially since it was from a planet that didn't exist anymore.
I turned back to the main part of the bar and scanned the room. It was filled with lots of weirdos.
"Interesting clientele you get here," I commented.
"Might seem strange to you," Pax said, "But I know most of 'em." He pointed a table with a sign
signifying it as the "Old Timer's Table." The foul-mouthed fellow from the speeder chase, the blue
armored guy, a very tall red eyed alien enfolded with black robes, and a Trandoshan with a scar acrossed
his cheek all sat there, and an Ubese bounty hunter hung lazily in a hamock above. "Those're Sinclair,
Blue Angel, Rage, Nebula, and Boushh, respectively," Pax pointed them out. "The little guy hanging
around is Nijaan, he's not an old timer, but he tends to hang with 'em." I recognised him as the driver of
the pursuing speeder.
"And over there we have some of our newer additions." As he pointed them out, I learned the
petite redheaded woman was known as Mara, the dragon from earlier was Void Dragon, the cigar smoking
dart thrower was Joe Mannix, the strangley mutable guy was Ezekiel, and the shoe chucking chick was
Jananicans.
Turning to the bar, he pointed to each person sitting in down the row. There was Antiam and his
scotch-drinking Verpine buddy, Rimfire; Kueller, who, armored and skull faced, seemed to be an admirer of
the perpetrator of the Almania rebellion; Arcidal, who is apparently the owner of an explosives store down
the street; Godfrei, a well known critic and columnist; the former depressed vampire and general carver of
wood, Entropy; and The Tynar, whom I remembered and whom had also apparently escaped the Bespin
Asylum for the Mentally Deranged.
"And our humble bartender is Jeff Walters," Pax finished up, motioning to the ugnaught. "Who,
in his spare time, is a news updater for the Jedi Knight Net, Museum Curator, Jedi Knight, Forum
Director, land developer, and also the Baron Administrator of Cloud City."
"Keeps me busy," Jeff said in a strange, Ugnaught accent.
I whistled. "And here I just hop from system to system with my wife exploring." I looked
around for Heather. "Speaking of whom... where did she go?"
"She said she went for food," Pax reminded me calmly.
After a more careful look around the room, I frowned. "I don't see her," I said.
Beside me, Pax closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Some Jedi thing, I figured. Feeling
around for Heather?
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and Pax stood abruptly. "She's not here," he announced
gravely.
"What?" I half yelled, also standing. "What do you mean she's not here?"
"I mean she's not here," Pax stated flatly as he headed off towards a side hall on the far wall. "I
can't feel her anywhere nearby. Her sense leads to here," he said, stopping in front of the woman's
restroom. "But it just disappears inside."
Without a second though, I swatted open the restroom door and marched inside.
The only occupant was Mara, and she stared at me in surprise. "What are you doing in here?" she
demanded.
"Where's my wife," I demanded in return, brushing by her to inspect each stall. All were empty.
Mara was looking at me quizzically, but Pax explained, "His wife is missing, and her sense
suddenly ends in here. Have you seen anything?"
"Nope," Mara responded, her face expressing her condolences. "It was empty when I came in just
now."
I pounded the wall in anger, then leaned on it heavily. My eyes wandered for a moment, then
focused on the short open window set up against the ceiling. Determination burning in me, I slapped open
a stall, climbed up on the toilet, grabbed the window sill, and pulled my head up to peer out.
"See anything?" Pax asked from down below. Mara had apparently departed.
"Just a stinking alleyway," I snorted. "But someone could've gotten her out this way if they were
real limber." I jumped down next to him. "I'm going out to look around."
He nodded. "Right." As we headed back towards the restroom door, the sounds of a brawl came
through the door. "What the?"
We ran out to find the whole cantina engaged in a massive fight. Chairs flew, glasses shattered,
and blaster shots rang out. Sinclair was in the middle of a lightsaber duel with Jananicans, the only
strange thing being that she had her multiple blades ignited from the sole of her boots. With sweeping
kicking motions she attacked and parried, while a dozen remotes flew like a cloud around them, stinging
Sinclair. The marbled Old Timer's Table was upended and served as cover for it's usual occupants as they
snapped off shots at those around them. Boushh stood off to the left with a thermal detonator launcher
firing away, while Ezekiel was catching and then eating them.

"See what I mean?" RBF said, suddenly beside me. He shook his head, "Gets routine after a
while." Gazing at Joe Mannix, who was standing mostly alone firing at the Old Timers, he added,
"Speaking of which... HEADS UP BOUSHH!" Jumping into the fray, RBF dived over Joe's head, caught
his neck in his ankles, then tucked and rolled, flipping Joe through the air at Boushh.
Boushh's helmeted head snapped up at the call, and, seeing the body hurtling towards him, he
dropped the launcher and pulled a big wooden bat from a sling on his back. He pointed to the window
grandly, then proceeded to smack the hell out of Joe. As Joe flew out the window, Boushh ran around the
bar, tagging each table as he went by.
Ducking a flying chair, I made my way to the bar wearily and collapsed onto a stool. Godfrei sat
beside me talking to Jeff while both made an effort to ignore the chaos around them.
"My wife is missing," I told them gravely.
"Finally, a plot," Godfrei muttered.
Ignoring him, I asked Jeff, "Do you know of any kidnappers on Bespin?"
"There're always some lamers around," Jeff told me thoughtfully. "Have you made any enemies
while you've been here?"
"Just a few fake aliens in the gay bar across the street, but they didn't seem to be the type that
would lash out like this."
"Gay bar?" Godfrei and Jeff exchanged knowing glances.
"Did you happen to run into anyone named Larin?" RBF asked, coming over while spinning a
duck handled stake through his fingers.
"Yeah," I said, suddenly filling with dread. "There was a little guy outside who identified himself
as Larin. The wookie trashed him before he let us in."
"It is possible then," RBF postulated, "That seeing you two so easily accepted into the bar
angered him and caused him to lash out."
"Are we talking about the same Larin here?" Jeff said. "His wife wouldn't have any trouble taking
him down."
"Maybe he had friends," I suggested.
"No, no friends," RBF asserted. "Paid accomplices maybe, but no friends."
I raised my head and looked at them, my eyes tight. "Where can I find this Larin?"
"I heard he lives in an abandoned refinery down in the industrial sector," Joe said, walking up.
There was a devious grin on his face, and I looked behind him briefly to see if Boushh needed traction.
What I saw instead was Joe Mannix, the REAL Joe Mannix, staggering in the door, a big red mark across
his face.
Narrowing my eyes, I looked back to the grinning Joe look-alike standing in front of me. Before
he knew what was happening, I grabbed a handful of his shirt and slammed him against the bar. "Where's
my wife," I yelled at the imposter, who continued to grin devishly. The grin then widened, revealing long
fangs at the corner of his mouth.
Casually, he slapped me aside, sending me spinning to the floor. I must've blacked out a minute,
but I heard RBF yell, "Ah!!! Vampire Clone!" before he shoved that sculptured stake of his through my
attacker's heart.
As someone helped me up, I glanced down at the dusty pile of remains. "That thing knew where
my wife was," I said firmly, looking around. Apparently the vampire attack had brought the bar fight to an
abrupt end.
"I don't know," Pax said. "He could've just been leading you into a trap."
"(BEEP) it!" Sinclair shouted as his paiger concurrently went off. "I say we go down there and
kick that little (BEEP)'s ass!" A chorus of agreement filled the bar.
"Why wait that long?" came the sniveling voice of Larin from the doorway. Everyone in the bar
turned to stare at him; the blonde wookie was lying unconscious on the ground behind him. "All I want is
some respect," Larin said, grinning evilly. "And an apology. And you have to let me in here and the city
Forum."
"Why don't we just hand you the keys to the freaking city?" issued a loud, obnoxious voice from
the dart board. It suprised me, but no one else seemed disturbed.
"Yeah," Blue Angel chimed in. "You don't get it, do you? We don't like you, and we don't
want you around!" Shouted agreement reverberated through the bar.

Pushing through the crowd, I emerged out front and pointed an accusing finger at weasel-boy.
"What have you done with my wife?"
"She's safe enough, for now. But if I don't get what I want..."
I decked him. I mean, I really clobbered the hell out of him. He spun around and dropped to the
floor like a rock. Whimpering a little, he pushed himself up and looked at me, hatred in his eyes, blood
dribbling down his lip. "I was right, you're just like the rest of them! You don't even give a guy a
chance... and now you're going to pay for it!"
"Don't even give you a chance?" I shouted back, "You're the bastard the kidnapped my wife! I
don't know what you did to piss all of them off, but you're ripped my heart right out of my chest." I balled
my fists menacingly. "Now tell me where my wife is."
"Back off," he threatened. "Or I'll flood."
I let out a long, deep laugh. "You'll flood?" I repeated. "You'll flood!"
"I warned you." He grabbed a little beeper-like device from his side and pressed the red button
down on top.
The ceiling exploded down around us, and I put my hands over my head to block the falling
wood. Then, from all around, I heard the thumps of living bodies landing on the hard floor everywhere.
Straightening, I found our number had doubled, though the number of faces had not.
"Ah! More vampire clones!" RBF screamed.
The bar erupted into chaos again, but this time is was all of us against all of them.
"Not again!" Entropy cried, striking out at a vampire clone with a carving knife.
I pulled the blaster from my side and fired at a particularly ugly Sinclair clone, but the shot barely
slowed the thing down. It came at me with a crushing roundhouse, and though I threw my arm up to
block, it still sent me sprawling across the floor on my back. The clone grabbed a nearby chair and rushed
me, barely missing as I rolled out of the way.
With a roar of anger, it clutched at my throat, and my hand shot out to the splintered pieces of
wood beside me. It jerked me up and down as it throttled me, causing my hand to jump and bump the
wood, scattering it further. My strength abandoning me, I squinted with one eye at the wood as darkness
closed in around the edges of my vision. Another gurgling jerk and my hand bobbed out towards a perfect
piece of wood, but I nudged it and it rolled away. I closed my eyes and grabbed despertly for the wood as
my thoughts became scattered and unorganized. Suddenly I realized my hand had closed around the
splintered chair leg, and I felt a new burst of energy.
With every ounce of strength I had left in me, I swung that leg around and jammed it deep into
the side of the vampire clone's head. It screamed in agony, releasing me while it sent it's hands to the two
sides of the stake protruding from it's head.
"Die already," I gasped as I scuttled back and away, sucking in every ounce of air I could get my
lungs around.
With a wet, sucking sound, the clone managed to rip the bloody stake out of it's head and toss it
aside. With burning anger and renewed purpose, it stalked towards me. I backed away from it until my
back was against the front wall, my mind working the whole time. But try as I might, I could not think of
a single thing to extend my life more than ten seconds. I guess I wouldn't be seeing Heather again after all.
No! My mind yelled at me. This bastard was just an obstacle between us, and he would have to
move, or I was going to have to move him. I stood shakily, facing the Sinclair clone determinedly.
"Come on, ugly," I growled, launching a punch at his gut. It brushed it off and gripped me in a bear hug,
trying to crush my body. I doubled over and managed the flip him over my head onto a table, whose top
shattered and leg stabbed up through his gut.
Still undead, the thing lay on the ground panting, staring up at me. Slowly, with the table leg
still sticking through it, it stood to face me again. "You just don't know when to die, do you?" I said to it
as I shot my arm forward, driving a sharp wood fragment deep into it's left breast. It staggered back a step,
let out an eerie moan, then exploded into dust.
I dropped to my knees, exhausted, and glanced to the main of the bar. The fight was still going
strong, and the good guys didn't seem to be winning. Pax jumped out of the crowd towards me, a plasma
rifle in his hands, a clone of himself at his back. Unlike Pax, however, the clone didn't have cybernetic
parts or a scarred face. It must've been to him like fighting a younger version of himself.

Reaching my side, Pax dropped to one knee and cored the beast several times with bolts of
plasma, but it kept coming. It swung with it's right hand, but Pax caught it in his bionic left hand and
began to squeeze. The clone growled in pain just before Pax ignited his lightsaber and sliced the thing in
half. It must've punctured the thing's heart, or met some other condition, because it disintegrated into
dust.
"Are you ok?" Pax asked me quickly.
I nodded weakly, and Pax stood again. "Jeff! We're not winning here!"
The ugnaught bartender smashed a bottle of Corellian Whiskey against a vampire clone's head
while he nodded at Pax.
"Jeff!" RBF called from another part of the room. "I have an idea, toss me the universe-al remote!"
Jeff ducked under the bar for a moment, then re-emerged and flung a big multi-buttoned remote
control over the crowd. Jumping clear over the heads of most of the occupants, RBF snagged the remote
right out of mid air before disappearing downward.
"Universal Remote?" I questioned Pax.
"Hard to explain. All you need to know, though, is that with it there are no limits."
I still don't know what that means, but I've come to accept that that remote can do things that
aren't supposed to happen. Take for example, what happened next. There was a blindingly bright flash,
and suddenly the bar had simply vanished, and I found myself sitting on the grassy ground out front of
some large building. It was still night, but it definately didn't look like Bespin, and the constellations I
could see didn't look like anything I had ever seen before.
It looked as though everyone from the bar, including the vampire clones, had come with me, but
there was barely a confused pause before the fight continued. Apparently the vampire clones didn't care
where they were and everyone else was too busy staying alive to worry about it.
Without the confinement of the bar, the battle spread out over the grass; I saw Jananican's kick
boxing against a marauding copy of Godfrei, while the genuine article seemed content to vaporize his
attacker's limbs piece by piece. Who cared if they died as long as they couldn't kill you?
While Mara disposed of another clone with a long and wicked vibroblade, I stood weakly next to
Pax, who seemed to be following the fight closely, ready to jump in and help if someone needed it.
"We aren't on Bespin anymore are we?"
Pax glanced at me distractedly, and I got the feeling he was watching the fight with more than his
eyes. "Right."
"So where are we?"
"Let's just say you couldn't fly there in your ship." Pax started forward, then stopped as the tall,
red-eyed Rage crushed his attacker's head. While it kept on coming, Rage's ignited saber promised to
finished it off quickly.
"Do you see Larin anywhere?" I asked quietly.
"Nope," Pax shook his head. "Must've escaped once the fight started."
Wordlessly, Pax suddenly jumped back into the fray as Joe Mannix steadly retreated from three
long toothed freaks intent on disembowling him.
Left alone to gaze at the brawl, I began feeling a little bit exposed. If one of those suckers decided
I looked like a good meal, I wasn't in real good shape to offer a lot of opposition. Remembering the knife I
got from the fake aliens back at our first stop, I bent and retrieved it from my boot. At least I was armed
now.
"I hope you're fast with that," came a light, feminine voice from behind me. Turning, I found a
lovely blond teenage girl standing right behind me, surveying the scene. "You're all, like, from the
Cantina Cloud aren't you?"
I nodded slowly. Apparently some of the others had been here before. She shook her head in
resignation. "I wish you people would keep your vampires in your own reality."
I didn't know what to say to that, but before I could say anything at all, she launched herself into
the fray, armed with only a long, wooden stake. To be quite honest, and never tell Heather this, I was
mesmerized by her moves. It was all so fluid it seemed almost unreal. She flipped and somersalted
through the fight, taking over for a winded warrior here and blowing a clone into a cloud of dust there. As
this girl made her way through the crowd, the rest fought with renewed vigor, and it wasn't but a few
moments until the tide turned definitively to the bar brawler's favor.

With their forces being rapidly depleted, the vampire clones seemed to mutually agree to turn their
attention to a selective few of us. I saw a knot of them break off and go after RBF, while several others
attacked the blond girl. Unfortunately, that's all I got to see, because a group of four or five of the clones
suddenly came after me.
I held my knife out in front of me defensively as they approached. I knew it wasn't any use, but I
wasn't going down without a fight. I owed Heather that much.
I slashed at the first one, missed, and he proceeded to knock my block off with a bone jarring
backhand. I found myself on the ground again, the knife now gone from my hand, the vampire clones
closing in around me.
And then there came the sounds of an assault from outside their circle, blue and a yellow
lightsabers stabbed through two of them, while arms appeared around another's neck as someone jumped on
their back. "Arg!" the vampire clone's assailant bellowed as he squeezed.
Unconcerned by the continuing attacks, one of the remaining two dived down and grabbed me,
hauling me off the ground and tossing me through the air. I flew for a moment, then collided with
something hard and metal that gave way as I knocked it off it's supports. In a daze, I looked around,
apparently I had flown through a sign of some sort. Then the vampire appeared over the sign base and
grined evilly at me. It raised to pounce, but there was a thunderclap and the top of the clone exploded,
leaving it's two arms and it's legs to tumbled to the ground before turning to dust. Boushh stuck his head
over the sign base to check on me, then disappeared again.
I tried to stand once more, then suddenly Blue Angel and Pax ran around opposite sides of the
sign to help me up. "Time to go," Blue Angel said from under his Mandalorian helmet before they each
grabbed an arm and half carried me along. We angled back towards the battle as we ran, then met up with
RBF and a group of the others.
"I thought we were winning," I breathed as we ran.
"We are," RBF assued me, "But we tire, they don't. Buffy is still back there covering us." Buffy
must be the blond girl, I thought. Somehow, the name fit. "Don't worry, it's all part of the plan." That
said, RBF started playing with the universal remote, tapping it stiffly while sparks flew out of it. "Hmm,
this isn't, though," he muttered. Quickly, we were across the street and running across the length of some
warehouse or another, and I heard the sounds of dozens of feet behind me. "Isn't this tiring us out more
than the actual fighting?"
"You want to stay here and find out?" Mara shouted from behind.
RBF seemed to know where he was going, so I, for one, just followed him. At the time, I figured
it was his homeworld, and that the remote was some type of teleportion device. I had never heard of such a
thing existing, but it was amazing the things they were coming out with these days.
"Here we are, the Bronze," RBF announced, leading us around the front of the warehouse. I could
tell it wasn't any ordinary warehouse though. I've been around the galaxy enough to know a dive when I
come near one. "C'mere Pax," RBF called, and they lead the way inside. A pair of bouncers started to
step forward to challenge us, but Pax, holding his plasma rifle, gave them a good look at his face, and they
backed off quickly.
Inside it was dim, crowded, and very noisy. The music blaring throughout was remenicient of
Jizz Wailing, but it had more of an edge. As about two dozen of us piled in, the music stopped, and
people started staring in mixed wonder and horror.
"Attention K-Mart shoppers," Pax yelled in now quiet dive, holding his plasma rifle above his
head. "Now would be a good time to leave." To underscore his point, Pax fired three quick plasma bolts
into the air, their blue light filling the Bronze.
The patrons of the Bronze wasted no time heading for the exits, though their relatively orderly
escape started me wondering how often things like this happened. As the normal people left, my
compatriots from the bar took their places, resting whereever their butts landed.
"Now what?" I asked.
RBF banged on the universal remote, his face a tight grimace. Turning, he jumped up on stage
and grabbed a microphone. "Houston, we have a problem. Anyone with lots of electronics experience is
welcome to come to the front desk and participate in your survival."
Too bad Heather wasn't here, I though, she was an electronics whiz. Figured. Then again, I'm
not exactly a stranger to circuitry myself, so I headed up front where RBF was.

Jananicans was already up there, trying to get RBF to let her look at it, and Rimfire the Verpine
got there about the same time as I did. "How about we lay it out on that table over there so we can all
look at it at once," I suggested, pointing at a round, empty table. RBF flashed a glance at Jan, but nodded
and lead the way.
That was one complicated mess of circuitry, I have to tell you. I hope I never have to participate
in such small repairs again. Without that Verpine and his microscope-equivalent eyesight, we might still
be... where ever that place was.
As it was, we had to go around stealing circuitry from people's blasters, and Pax was left without
felling in his big toe. It's handy to have a walking part depot around, though not for the donee.
"Here's comes Buffy!" Entropy announced happily from the door, where he stood guard with
Arcidal. "No sign of any vampires."
"Do you think she got them all?" I hoped. It would make the next part easier.
"Do alligators have wings and fly," Buffy said, bursting through the door.
"All right!" Nijaan yelled. Then: "Wait, what's an alligator?"
"Take it as a no." Coming over to where I stood near RBF, she said to him, "Y'know, living on
a Hellmouth is bad enough without you people showing up at the first sign of a vampire."
"Dont' worry about it," RBF assured her. "We have a plan."
"And this is supposed to not make me worry?"
"Incoming!"
The far wall exploded as the vampire clones made their own entrances. The refugees from the
Cantina backed away as the vampires grew in ranks. "What happened to all the ones we killed?" Joe
Mannix muttered in surprise.
"Well [BEEP], I [BEEP] think they're all [BEEP] right [BEEP] there," Sinclair spat.
"Hold it right there," RBF shouted at the vampires as he pointed the Universal Remote at them.
"Don't come any closer, or else."
"Or else?" RBF's doppelganger laughed. "Or else what?"
"Or else we'll call ya names!" Pax yelled back.
In response, the vampires roared as they charge.
"Hey!" Pax yelped. "You're supposed to ask what names we're gonna call you!"
"In the words of Bughunter," RBF spoke, holding the remote out like some weapon of terror.
"Game over man, GAME OVER!" There was another bright flash of light as RBF activated the remote,
and suddenly we all found ourselve on a brighty, sunny beach. The vampire clones stopped in their tracks,
turning confused eyes towards the sun.
"Powerless," one clone wailed. "We are powerless."
Half-a-dozen lightsabers hissed to life at that moment, and more than one blaster charged up.
RBF spoke first. "Or else."
Pax grinned. "Right."
After that point, it became a game of "squash-the-powerless-clones." This time, their bodies
remained, so we chopped off their heads, stuck them on pikes, and burned a pile of their bodies. That
grisly bit of work finished, RBF activated the remote one last time, sending us home.
After we had left, a yellow truck pulled up, two bathingsuited babes in the back, one man with
swim shorts driving. One of the beauties, a vacant-eyed blonde, said, "Mitch, they're all, like, dead, and
stuff."
The man inside truck looked at the carnage, then said, "So what do you think Kit?"
The truck didn't answer.
End Part One