DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek galaxy is the property of Paramount, while
the Star Wars galaxy is the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. (They have
enough bucks to buy galaxies? Sheesh!)  I am merely borrowing the
characters and tech to use in this Fanfic, this is in no way intended
as a challenge of the afore-mentioned parties copyright (only of their
creativity) and I receive no financial gain from this Fanfic (more is
the pity - send me 10 Imperial Credits if you like the story anyway -
starfleet don't have a monetary system, so why work for them).



THE MIGHTY PYTHON'S GUIDE TO THE MILKY WAY


The adventures of Grandus Stultissimus, the stupidest man to ever
serve in the Imperial Navy. 



A fanfic by Michael January


CHAPTER ONE


Grand Admiral Grandus Stultissimus hated having to come see the
Emperor. Not that he feared the old green-faced fart. But coming to
see the Emperor was a hateful reminder that he was not after all the
most powerful man in the Galactic Empire. Worse, he would have to
kneel to the Emperor. As recompense he had promised himself he would
find a planet to blow up once the meeting was over. In the meanwhile,
he would have to settle for taking along his most ruthless bodyguards,
the Red Dragon unit.
        His barge landed on a sky platform on the same level as the
Grand Corridor to the Imperial Palace. As soon as the ramp lowered, he
marched out and along the corridor as fast as he could walk, his
bodyguards rushing into protective positions in front of him and
around him. Those intelligent enough to recognise his purple insignia
dived for cover, climbed a nearby Cha'ala tree, or threw themselves
over the edge and down to the next level thirty meters below. The rest
of the people in the corridor glanced up in irritation, and then fled
in terror as his bodyguards cut a path of destruction through the
masses, swinging Force-pikes and vibro-axes with gusto.
        Grandus Stultissimus grinned in glee as severed limbs flew
over his head, red and green blood spilt everywhere, and gold ichor
ran like water under his feet. 'Ah,' he thought. 'Maybe there was an
upside to coming to see the Emperor after all.' It was not often that
he got to see destruction first hand. He made a mental note to get out
more often, then promptly forgot it as he was mesmerised by the beauty
of a human arm spinning through the air, spattering blood as it
twirled, and colliding spectacularly with a tentacle which also
spattered green blood as it twirled gracefully into the sky.
        By the time his entourage made it to the Palace gates, the
Grand Corridor was clear of all life-forms except Stultissimus and his
guards. They swept on into the Palace, and into the Grand Reception
Hall. The Emperor was seated on a raised dais at the far end of the
massive room, and several droid fighters circled lazily overhead, with
the Emperor's crimson guard scattered liberally around the room.
Stultissimus remembered just in time to order his guards to remain at
the entrance. Last time, several of them had been killed by the
Emperor's guard when they had got too enthusiastic about clearing a
path for him and killed one of the Emperor's guards by mistake.
        "Master. You called, and your humble servant answers."
        "Grandus Stultissimus. I have a commission for you." The
Emperor croaked softly.
        Stultissimus eyes lit up. An Imperial commission was often a
brilliant excuse for bloodshed and mayhem.
        "A commission, my Lord?"
        An extermination, he prayed. Please let it be an
extermination. He hadn't been allowed to exterminate any species for
quite a while. He hoped it was nothing to do with this measly
rebellion he had heard about. Such small-time things were for pussies
like Vader.
        "My scientists have recently discovered a mechanism for
sending a ship to another galaxy. I have selected you for this
mission. I want you to go and conquer this galaxy for me." The Emperor
told him.
        Stultissimus eyes nearly fell out. His jaw dropped open. Drool
ran down his chin onto his robe. He suddenly collected his thoughts,
slurped the drool back up quickly, and wiped his chin with the sleeve
of his robe.
        "A ... a galaxy, my Lord?"
        "Yes, Stultissimus. An entire galaxy. I want you to crush it
for me. Bring it to heal."
        Stultissimus slobbered. He barely heard the Emperor's words.
Visions of destruction, flames, and detonating planets danced before
his eyes. His mind snapped back to practical issues with a level of
agility he was convinced only he, the greatest Admiral of all time,
was capable of.
        "My fleet. Do I get to take my whole fleet? Will it be enough
for an entire galaxy, my liege. I mean, won't I need thousands more
ships. After all, my fleet is less than a tenth the size of the
Imperial Navy, and if I'm meant to quell an entire galaxy I will need
Death Stars, I will need Eclipses, I will need Sovereigns, I will need
World Devastators, I will need ..."
        The Emperor waved the slobbering figure to silence.
        "The Device is good for only one ship. You will have one ship,
and one ship only."
        "The Death Star!" Stultissimus said without hesitation,
congratulating himself on his mental alacrity.
        "Unfortunately, we only have one, and I have promised it to
Lord Vader."
        "Lord Vader, Kord Schmader." Stultissimus wailed, and stamped
his foot. "You always liked him more. Why can't I for once get my
way." He suddenly remembered where he was, peed his pants, and pulled
his robe closer hoping no-one would notice. "I mean, please, your
Excellency." He collected himself finally, careful to spread his robe
so that no-one would notice the pool of yellow fluid around his feet,
and grinned sickly at the Emperor.
        "Enough. I will allow you to take a few World Devastators, and
have prepared a ship for you. I am sure you can provide a crew. Though
not as powerful as the Death Star, it will have to do."
        "Oh, alright." Stultissimus whined.
        "Dismissed." The Emperor waved him away.
        The diminutive figure of the idiotic Grand Admiral stomped
miserably out of the Reception Hall. The Emperor gestured lightly and
a droid darted forward to mop up the urine on the floor, bleeping in
disgust. From behind the raised throne, a dark and menacing figure
advanced. 
        "Master. Is this wise?" Lord Vader enquired of the Emperor.
        "I assure you, my loyal Darth Vader, it is. Stultissimus is an
idiot of Gungun proportions. He is too stupid to realise that the
device only works one way. Once he has used it, he will never be able
to return. This is the only sure way to get rid of him."
        "I never understood how he came to be a Grand Admiral in the
first place. The man has less intelligence than a love-sick
Corellian." Vader droned in his bass tones.
        "Ah, my good Lord Vader. That is why I am Emperor and you are
not. Stultissimus has one unique gift. Despite his stupidity, or
perhaps because of it, he is imbued with a tremendous strength in the
Force."
        "That is a Jedi?" Vader asked incredulously, pointing after
Stultissimus.
        "No, of course not. He would never have passed the
psychological screening, and even I would not train such a one.
However, have you not noticed how he has a talent for succeeding even
at the impossible, no matter how ridiculous his strategy."
        "I have wondered." Vader admitted.
        "Yes, well. Trust me, Vader, when I tell you that even I would
hesitate to engage Stultissimus in battle. The Force seems to take
sadistic pleasure in supporting idiots such as he."



        Stultissimus flagship was an Eclipse class Super Star
Destroyer named The Mighty Python. It had one annoying and unlucky
trait. Every time it terminated a Hyperspace jump it always managed to
ram and totally destroy some lesser ship. As a result, the scientists
working on the Gate had especially planned for this moment. The
imminent arrival of The Mighty Python. They had run hundreds of
simulations on their computers, consulted statistical geniuses from
all over the Galaxy, and had eventually came up with an idea. A
brilliant idea. They arranged to have the space around their
installation surrounded by dozens of tiny corvettes and gunships.
Their defensive fleet of Star Destroyers had been despatched to a
point several light years away, and they had moved their two Golan II
battle-stations as far from the installation as possible. 
        Statistically now, they were sure that The Mighty Python would
only destroy a corvette or perhaps a gunship when it arrived. They had
then organised a betting pool, and large sums of credits had been
expended in the betting as to which of the corvettes or gunships would
be destroyed.
        "Two to one on a corvette." One of the bookies shouted. "I
will give two to one on a corvette."
        "Even odds on a gunship." Another bookie shouted.
        "Thirty to one he hits the Corellian Terrier."
        "Forty to one it's the Chandrilian Hounddog."
        "Ten to one he hits the installation itself." 
        A few people shuddered at the thought, considered resigning
and relocating, then decided even Stultissimus would not be that
idiotic to jump in directly next to the installation, but would rather
terminate his jump some distance away.
        Credits passed hands, bookies smiled in glee, and scientists
and engineers eagerly calculated odds on their positronic slide-rules.
As the moment arrived, the betting was closed, and everyone in the
installation clustered around a viewing port. None awaited the arrival
with more anticipation though than the hapless crews aboard the
corvettes and gunships. Many of them were unable to even blink, ready
to take emergency evasive action the moment The Mighty Python
appeared.
        Suddenly the light from a massive explosion blotted out the
stars for several seconds, and many would have been blinded if not for
the automatic anti-glare filters kicking in.
        "Who did he hit?" Somebody asked.
        "I dunno, it was very far out, he must have decided to give
himself a healthy safety margin."
        "But there's nothing out there except ..."
        A collective groan passed through the crowd. Nobody had
thought to bet on one of the distant Golan II battle-stations.
        Out of the darkness, a scorched and blackened Eclipse class
Super Star Destroyer slowly approached. Across it's nose, two mighty
super-hardened durasteel bullbars resembling a ragnor's horns proudly
bore a scorched sign: "I brake for nobody!"


        The scientist in charge of the Galactic Gate project waited
apprehensively for the turbolift doors in the docking bay to open.
When it did, he stepped back in alarm as several large red armoured
figures marched out, one of them dragging a limp and bedraggled body
clad in a tattered uniform. Jumping on the body, and kicking it, and
snarling and spitting, was a diminutive little figure in a purple
robe. Spying the scientists, he stopped his murderous assault on the
unconscious human figure.
        "Hey, you. Where can I get another pilot?"
        "I will see that you are assigned another pilot, immediately,
Admiral." The scientist quickly answered.
        "Yeah. And show me this ship the Emperor has prepared. I want
to see what I have to work with. Conquering a whole galaxy with just
one ship is not going to be easy, you know, so this had better be
good!"
        "This way, Admiral."


THE MIGHTY PYTHON'S GUIDE TO THE MILKY WAY


The adventures of Grandus Stultissimus, the stupidest man to ever
serve in the Imperial Navy. 



A fanfic by Michael January


CHAPTER TWO

Grandus was impressed. The ship was not the Death Star, but the
Emperor had not scrimped on him. The vessel to be used for the
inter-galactic transit was a thirty kilometer battle-station which
dwarfed his personal flagship the Eclipse-class Mighty Python.
Attached to the exterior surface of the massive battle-station were
hundreds of landing barges for planetary invasions, six world
devastators, and a docking bay big enough to accommodate The Mighty
Python.
        "We have named her Python's Home," the scientist said eagerly.
"She has a crew of five hundred thousand, carries two million fully
equipped soldiers, and has ten million fully trained fleet personnel
as passengers. Whatever you build with the World Devastators, you will
have sufficient crew to operate it. The battle-station is fully
capable of defending itself, and has everything in the way of weapons
except a superlaser. However, the docking mechanism for The Mighty
Python is configured such that you can fire it's superlaser even when
docked. What do you think? Admiral"
        "Oh, it will have to do, I suppose" Stultissimus said
grudgingly. Better not to give anything away to these scientist types.
They always thought they were so superior. "When do I leave?"
        "As soon as you're onboard." The scientist answered.
"Everything is prepared."
        "Great. Let's get on with it. What do we do?"
        "You fly it through that great big ring over there. The ring
will launch you to your destination. The trip will be near
instantaneous."
        "Okay. It had better be, or the Emperor will be distressed. He
doesn't like waiting for results, you know."
        "It will be, Sir." The scientist assured him. He mentally
thanked the Gods that Stultissimus hadn't asked how he would come
back.




FOUNDER'S HOME WORLD - SECRET LOCATION - GAMMA QUADRANT

Only a handful of continents peeked out of the great pink ocean which
covered the homeworld of the Founders. Any people scanning the planet
would have picked up very few life-forms, all of low-order. Founders
did not register on ordinary life-form detection equipment. Even a
close-up view of the planet would have revealed little. An apparently
deserted planet with one massive pink ocean. A small starport was the
only clue that this planet was not what it seemed. 
        Only those knowledgeable of the Founders would know that the
entire pink ocean was in fact nearly the sum total of all the Founders
in the galaxy, in one great big mind-meld. A handful of Founders were
away on various secret missions in the huge territory controlled by
the Founders, or perhaps even as far away as the Alpha Quadrant, which
was attracting ever more Founder activity of late.
        The one starport was manned by a handful of Gem'Hadar
warriors, with a few Vorta handlers. A number of Gem'Hadar fighters
were scattered across the expanse of Ferrocrete which was the
starport. There were no other defences in sight. This world's greatest
defence was it's absolute secrecy. The secrecy was protected by dozens
of 'listening posts' scattered through all the surrounding systems,
with immense starports and massive fleets concentrated in these star
systems. Several 'decoy worlds' dotted the regions of the galaxy
controlled by the Founders, most of them with similar protection. It
was very rare that an enemy managed to penetrate to any of these
worlds, and only once had one of them come under bombardment.
        The chances of any enemy fleet discovering this world was very
slim, and there was no chance that any fleet would be able to
penetrate this deep into Dominion space without being detected and
annihilated.
        The Gem'Hadar stiffened even further than they already were as
a Vorta approached. The Vorta wore a pink amulet, a symbol that it was
in fact not a Vorta but one of the God's themselves. It waved to a
nearby battle-cruiser. Several Gem'Hadar sprang forward, forming an
impromptu honor guard, and escorted their God to the battle-cruiser.
It never even occurred to them to question their God's motives. It was
enough that they were being given an opportunity to serve.
        The battle-cruiser rose swiftly through the thin atmosphere,
as the captain directed the ship on the heading indicated by the God
they carried. Few Founders left their home world at all, unless there
was a mission of vital importance that one of their various subjugated
species could not handle. It was a great honour to be able to escort
such a one, even though such an escort usually meant their certain
death in the interests of secrecy at the end of the mission. The
captain and his officers were extremely proud to be able to serve
their masters so directly, and looked forward to their inevitable
death, and what had to be an extremely important mission.
        A shout from a bridge crewman caused the captain to look up
sharply, just in time to see the hugest ship he had ever seen
materialise out of nowhere directly in their path. He had no time for
a death cry before the mile-long battle-cruiser was obliterated when
it smashed into the forward shields protecting one of the smaller
structures of the Python's Home.


        "SHIT!" Stultissimus shouted. He was looking out of one of the
bridge view-ports just as they terminated their inter-galactic jump,
and the hull of the Python's Home stretched off into the distance for
tens of kilometers, the details of it's architecture lost in the
distance, too small to be seen by the unaided eye. "We didn't hit
anything!"
        The collision was so far away that the Gem'hadar ship he had
obliterated was too small to see with the naked eye. The sensor
operator determined that it would not be wise to correct the
diminutive figure in his pretentious purple robes, and kept quiet
about the collision. One never knew whether he would be furious or
relieved about colliding into something. In any case, the collision
had barely dented their shields.
        The Admiral turned away from the viewing port, thus failing to
see the debris come sailing past the view-port and causing the sensor
operator immense relief.
        "Scan that world below." Stultissimus shouted. 
        "It is largely deserted, Excellency. A few life-forms at one
small starport, but otherwise nothing."
        "Ah, Fuck! Well it will have to do. Detach one of the
Devastators, and get it started on that planet."
        Stultissimus stomped his foot in frustration. He had rather
hoped that the first world he discovered was a heavily populated one.
It would have been really cool to see their response to a World
Devastator.
        "What shall we program the World Devastator for, Excellency?"
        "Is there enough material down there for another Eclipse?"
        "We can make two fully equipped Eclipses, complete with
TIE/Defender fighter squadrons, out of that world, Excellency, with
some wasted material." The operator answered after glancing at his
console. The console reported 2.3 Eclipses, but the 0.3 would probably
confuse the Admiral.
        "Do it."



On the ground, the Gem'hadar were racing to their ships, several
fighters took off into the sky, followed by the battle-cruisers. A
call went out to all nearby star-systems, reporting they were under
attack, but no reinforcements would be able to get here for at least
twelve hours even at maximum warp.
        The fighters never cleared the atmosphere. They were caught up
in immense turbulence caused as some sort of energy field began
ripping the atmosphere off the planet. A few of the battle-cruisers
got off a few shots, but their weaponry made no impression on the
immense energy fields sweeping across the planet and drawing in matter
of all type and description.
        The matter scooped up by the World Devastator's energy fields
were trapped in a another energy field, where a fission reaction was
initiated. The matter was broken down into it's sub-atomic
constituents, the fission reactions providing the energy to extend the
energy fields even further, thus gathering more matter, which was
broken down in more fission reactions releasing more energy in a
continuous feed-back loop. The sub-atomic particles released were
gathered into an immense cloud contained in yet another energy field
where a continuously looping feed-back fusion reaction was initiated.
Slowly, the energy field began to take the shape of an Eclipse-class
Super Star Destroyer.
        The World Devastator itself was the conduit for all these
energies, and it was already glowing red-hot as a by-product of the
energies coursing through it. Already, the energy scoops flickering
across the planet below had dug deep into the crust, and the mantle
was exposed. For a second the World Devastator glowed brighter than
the nearby star around which the planet was orbiting, then it
detonated in a blinding flash of barely controlled energies. When the
flash faded, two spanking brand-new Eclipse-class Star Destroyers were
floating in space, surrounded by a handful of molten rocks, slowly
cooling down. Most of the matter of the planet had been converted to
pure energy, some of which had been used to fully charge all systems
on-board the two Eclipse-class destroyers.
        "I LOVE THIS TOY!" Stultissimus exulted. He couldn't wait to
try one out on an inhabited planet. "Okay okay okay. Enough gawping,"
he shouted at his bridge crew. "Get the crews and troops on board
those Destroyers, and let's go find some action. I'm bored already."
        He walked over to the hologram of the surrounding space mapped
out by the sensor crews. "Launch all probes, find me an inhabited
system quickly, before I kill one of you out of boredom. Eeny meeny
miney MO!" He picked a star at random. "In the meanwhile, let's go see
what this one is."
        In minutes, hundreds of shuttles and barges had been launched
to each Eclipse-class Destroyer, and the small fleet was prepared to
jump to the star Stultissiumus had indicated. The two Eclipse-class
Destroyers moved into flanking positions on the massive
battle-station, and the three massive vessels flickered into
hyperspace. The sub-space pulse calling for reinforcements had only
just reached the nearest star-systems, and it would be several hours
before any Gem'Hadar ships arrived and discovered that their Gods had
ceased to exist, except for the handful who hadn't been on the planet.




MikeJ, xris@removethis.iafrica.com

There is a reason the captain's chair does 
not have a console. Survival. (Michael O'Shea)


