Space Relations Pt. 07

Brukenfooken grumbled. "Well, if those concussion missiles are the best offense they've got, they're about to get pissed on!"

"Brukenfooken, you have to think of a short nickname for yourself." The captain stated. "Typing all those letters out every time is wearing on the keyboard."

The combat tech stared at him for a few seconds. "Yes, sir."

Washington swiveled his chair around. "Mary, were altercations with the Worf always settled with violence?"

"Oh, yeah." Mary nodded. "There was no way around it. These people are very proud of how hostile they are. I mean, they weren't trying to kill the Space Corps pilots, just to humiliate them in battle. You should have heard them jeering at us when they disabled one of our ships. It was like they'd won a college football game or something."

"Their entire culture thrives on conquest." Cruz nodded. "If we keep moving forward, they will attack. If we don't wish to engage them, our only option may be to retreat. Surely, these Worf will take this as a sign of cowardice."

"Well, maybe we can think of something else." Washington rationalized. "Our primary mission is to improve relations with space-faring races, after all."

"I'm afraid the Worf will accept nothing short of a challenge." Cruz informed him. "They won't even communicate with you unless you make it clear that you want to bash their heads in."

"Right." Mary nodded.

"Let's challenge them, then." Washington replied. "What can we do, short of battling them out here and risk destroying them or damaging our ship? Can we wrestle them or something, as in physical wrestling? Do we have any wrestlers on board?"

"I was in division one for the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association), in freestyle competition." Brukenfooken announced proudly. "If we're going to wrestle the Worf, I'm in."

"I'll wrestle a Worf." Margo called out. "Especially if it's a female."

"That's two." Washington considered the rest of his people. "Cruz, what about you?"

"Oh, no, sir. I'm not a violent sort."

"Are you kidding me?" Washington asked. "After what I saw a few minutes ago in the lounge? You and Mary are absolute animals! I still can't believe that Mary took down Margo."

To herself, Willow considered that it had been her goading that had set off the male science officer. She filed this knowledge away for future reference.

Cummings stood up from the navigator's chair and began punching out at the air. "Aw! Why did I have to miss Mary taking down Margo? I would have paid money to see that!"

Defending her honor, Margo said, "Well, I let her take me down, a little bit."

Washington turned his chair to face the large view screen. "I guess that two wrestlers will have to be enough. One male and one female. Cummings, send out a message in Galactic English. Tell that ship that we challenge them to a contest of physical combat."

"Yes, sir." The navigator did as he was told. A couple of minutes later, he got a reply. "They're laughing at us, sir. Wait. They're willing to open a standard video feed for direct communication with us, but we'll have to drop our shields to receive them."

"I'd be wary of that, captain." Brukenfooken cautioned. "They might be getting ready to blast another missile at us."

Washington considered this. "Cummings, tell them that we are so confident with our two combatants, that we will drop our defensive shields. Tell them only a coward would fire upon us with our shields down, instead of taking up our challenge."

Both Brukenfooken and Willow swung around with worried looks on their faces.

"Captain, I don't think that's a wise move." The combat tech said.

"My orders stand." Washington replied. "Cummings, send the message. Brukenfooken, lower our shields."

The Viking looked back at him nervously, before turning toward his console and performing the action.

Washington queried, "Have you thought of a nickname for yourself, Brukenfooken?"

The big blonde shrugged. "You can call me Thor. That was my nickname back when I wrestled."

"Very well. Thor it will be."

"Message received and confirmed." Cummings called out.

"Shields are down." The newly labeled Thor said a moment later.

"Let's get that communications channel open, Cummings." Washington requested. "And see what these Worf warriors look like."

"They can't see me like this!" Willow balked, as her uniform was still in tatters.

Washington held his hand out to silence her, as Cummings set the video up on the main screen. Three tall and studly Worf men stood before them, their arms crossed defiantly and their faces stern and glaring. All three men had stark black hair, combed back, along with chiseled, rough features and clean-shaven jaws.

They wore black leather jackets that looked more like suit coats than biker duds, and tight black shirts underneath.

"I wouldn't mind wrestling one of those guys." Mary purred.

Washington swung his chair around and whispered to his two science people. "I thought you said they'd be hairier. These men look like Australian Mafia to me, except for the black hair."

Cruz shrugged.

Mary made another interesting observation. "They don't have any clan patches on their clothing, captain. I think these guys haven't 'earned their beards' as the Space Corps pilots used to say. They have to prove themselves worthy before any of the big Worf clans take them in. I bet that's why they came looking for a rumble with us."

The captain spun his chair back around. He noticed that the three Worf were staring intently at their screen, and by extension at all of them. He introduced himself. "I am Captain Washington and this is the SCS Space Relations."

The three Worf glanced at one another, before one simply shrugged and faced the screen. "We have no captain here. I am simply traveler Dyme, and this is traveler Dom and traveler Doom."

"Are you all related?"

"Of course not!" Dyme snarled. "These are simply our cub names. Once we have merited acceptance into one of the honored clans, our true names will be given to us."

"I see." Washington nodded. "And do you agree to a physical showdown, in which we will humble you and leave you in utter defeat?"

Dyme looked confused. "Our universal translator isn't giving us a focused reply."

Washington was about to open his mouth to explain their idea of a wrestling match, when a second Worf, Dom, pointed at the screen and sneered.

"Whatever your challenge is, we accept! It is you who will be humbled, Earth man!"

The other two Worf nodded vigorously.

Dyme looked to be peering closer at them, and asked, "Why are some of your underlings dressed the way they are? Their clothing is in fragments."

"Oh, that." Washington replied, trying to quickly turn the situation to his advantage. "We were practicing our physical prowess just before you attacked us."

"We did not attack you." Dyme countered. "We only announced ourselves to you. If we wished to attack you, you would no longer exist."

Thor, the man formerly known as Brukenfooken, growled under his breath.

"What is that strange yet melodic noise coming from your ship?" Dom asked.

Washington's head unconsciously looked up to the nearest speaker, where the song Fly, Robin, Fly was playing. Again, he tried to turn the reply into something that made his crew look more awesome and powerful. "Uh, that's one of our battle anthems. You'll be hearing quite a bit of those, right before we hand you your ass!"

"You wish to put your hand on my ass?" Dyme asked, disgusted. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"No, that's not what I said." The captain shook his head. 'What I meant was..."

"It doesn't matter what you meant!" Dom scowled. "What matters is that you will be sorrowful for presenting your weak and pitiful race against our obviously superior people. Show us your best specimens!"

Smugly, Washington crossed his arms. "Thor, Margo, please stand to either side of the command chair."

Thor walked over and crossed his big, bulky arms, while Margo sauntered up and stood there chewing gum, but equally defiant.

"You have a woman?" Dyme asked. "What kind of manly combat is this?"

Dom roughly slapped at his shoulder. "Obviously, an interactive one. To test both our strength and our stamina."

"Ah." Dyme understood. He turned and called out to someone off-screen.

A Worf woman, looking as tall and mean as the others, soon stood between the Worf men. This one was much hairier than the men, for hair could be seen even on her neck and cheeks. In fact, she looked more like a wolf-woman than anything else.

"We counter your challengers with Doom and Dima." Dyme shoved both of the chosen warriors together.

Each Worf gritted their teeth together as if they were about to start fighting with Dyme. They all looked perfectly capable and willing of fighting with one other, simply for having been pushed.

Dom laughed and suggested, "They only have two challengers. Let us truly embarrass these humans and bring in two more opponents. I volunteer myself."

Dyme agreed and called off-screen again. "Duna!"

Another Worf woman was soon being pushed into the growing crowd. This female, if indeed a female it was, was as hirsute at the first. She growled and made her battle face at the screen.

Washington looked over at the formidable bunch. Resolutely, he stood up and took his place beside Thor. He called out to the ranks, "I'll need one more woman."

"I'll do it." Mary hurried over. "But Captain, there's something you should know."

"What's that?"

"They don't think we're going to be wrestling with them."

"Of course they do." Washington replied. "I thought I made that clear..."

Dyme's voice caught his attention. "We are ready to begin."

On the screen, Dom took off his shirt. He stood there showing off his broad pecs.

Thor growled, before taking off his own shirt. The big Viking tensed his muscles like a bodybuilder and gritted his teeth.

Then, Dom started taking off his pants.

Shocked, Thor looked back. "What's he doing?"

"I will show your females which is the dominant species!" Dom threatened, as his powerful and half erect cock came into view.

"Wait, what's he talking about?" The captain asked. He looked straight to Mary for an answer.

The pretty blonde gaped back at him. "I tried to tell you. They don't think we're going to wrestle with them."

"Well, what the hell do they think we'll be doing?"

"Captain, you just entered us into an intergalactic, planetary fuck-off!"

"Oh, snap!" Washington gasped. He looked over at Thor, who had gone rigid with shock.

"I can't do this!" Thor stammered. With that, the huge Viking turned and ran off the bridge.

The Worf started laughing.

"Already, we are striking fear into your number." Dyme boasted. "You should consider forfeiting this match, because you puny humans won't stand a chance against us. You humans are weak, pathetic beings."

Feeling his manhood challenged, Washington turned toward his crew. "Is there a man here who will take the place of Thor?"

"I will answer that call of duty, Captain!" Cruz scrambled over. "I dare say they have never met the likes of me before!"

The Worf laughed even louder. Despite his randy reputation among the crew, to the Worf he was simply a slightly overweight and presumptuous little fool. Cruz discarded his clothing with the recklessness of a superhero discarding his civilian attire, and started striking poses as if he was in a club's spotlight.

Dyme laughed like a clown. "This is the best you have to offer?"

"You will be taking that remark back very shortly, sir." Cruz spat back. "Your entire species will rue the day that your pathetic little ship crossed paths with ours!"

Doom removed his clothing next, revealing a chiseled physique, and a cock as thick as a fat sausage.

"He's mine." Mary set her face in determination.

"I don't think so, sister." Margo shook her head.

"Well, whoever can strip down the fastest can have him." Mary dared.

In record time, both women stood naked.

"We both undressed at the same time." Margo frowned.

"We'll double-team him then." Mary resolved, and to seal the pact they high-fived.

"Yeah, baby!" Cruz started hyping himself up. "That's the spirit!"

Three of his crew were standing there naked and ready to defend humanity, Washington noticed. On the screen, two bared and extra fat Worf peckers were already standing up and at full attention.

The Worf women started undressing, revealing heavy hooters with thick black hair all over them, and bushes that looked like mating tarantulas. Except for the relatively shorter hair on their heads, they were entirely as furry as wild animals.

Cruz grimaced. "I didn't expect that." His cock, which could become erect on command, was now starting to droop like a deflating balloon. "Their men aren't as hairy as all that. I'm nearly at the point of choosing one of them instead, and that's saying quite a bit!"

"Cruz, concentrate!" Mary mentally tried to infuse some fervor back into the man.

"I can't." Cruz said. "I mean, just look at those hairy creatures. The women look like Bigfoots, only hairier."

"Well, think of me instead, or Margo." Mary urged. "Or think of me and Margo at the same time."

Cruz stared down at his flaccid cock. "It's not working, baby."

Overhead, Washington noticed that the chorus to yet another disco song was coming through.

Push, push, in the bush, push, push in the bush, the lyrics went.

He also noticed that Mary's head was turned toward Willow. The two women seemed to be having a mental conversation with each other.

Do you like it, do you like it like this? Do you want it, do you want it like this? The song blared on.

Willow turned to Cruz. "They think you're gay."

Cruz lifted his downcast head. "Say again?"

"The Worf women, they think you're gay."

"Oh, they'd better not think that." Cruz shook his head. "They have no right to judge me like that, especially when they're from an entirely different species. They look like they're wearing fuzzy bodysuits, when they're really not wearing anything at all." He looked up at the screen. "Is this true, you prejudicial hair-tarts from the stars?"

The Worf females had apparently grown disinterested with their opponents, as they were now chatting among themselves. They only turned back when Doom slapped one on the shoulder and pointed out that they were being addressed.

"What do you want, you pathetic human worm?" One, most probably Dima, rudely asked.

"I dare you to your face, to call me gay once again!"

Thanks to the inability of the universal translator to function properly, the two women only stared back blankly.

"Say that I'm gay!" Cruz repeated, louder and more insistent. "I dare you to say it!"

Not knowing what that term even meant, or for that matter, the profundity of human customs in general, Dima merely did what she'd been told to do. When she spoke, it was with the same vehement attitude displayed by all members of her species. "You are gay!"

"Okay, now you've done it." Cruz curled his hands into angry fists. A moment later, his cock stood up an angry and mighty cock, hard as granite and ready to chip holes in concrete. "I suggest that you, and any other females on your vessel, prepare yourselves for such a whirlwind of sexual ferocity that you'll be talking to your grandchildren about it. Mark this date on your calendars, if your people even use calendars, for today is the day that your future generations will know as the Day of Reckoning."

The Worf females looked taken aback, and almost scared at the outburst.

"I'm beaming your intensity at them." Mary whispered. "I think they're catching it!"

"That's just a taste of what you'll soon be getting soon, you hairy wenches!" Cruz menaced the screen.

While this was going on, Washington was removing his clothing. He stood there, with his nine-inch wall-banger hanging down like an impatient water hose. He set his hands on his narrow hips. "Well, Worf travelers, your ship or mine?"