Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
I stumble out of the time hopper muttering. “Where in the when am I now?” The superheroes surrounding me are grimacing and have way more pouches than anyone needs as their leader yells. “EX-tremely extreme X-Team, hit hard and fast!” “The nineties,” I sigh. “Great.” “It must be odd going from human to kh’nar,” she said. “It is.” “We’ll be in this lifepod for months. I’m glad you’re a male of my species.” Ner gulped, so far as a space spider could. “Same sex pairs of kh’nar become homicidal in close confinement,” she said. “Ugh! Klaatu, what are you smoking in that bong?!” “Cabbage leaves,” the grey alien coughed out. “It stinks!” “Dave, chill.” “I’m not in the mood for this! We need to get to Altair!” “If I couldn’t fly a saucer stoned, I would’ve never landed on Earth…” He scratched his neckbeard in Imperial Moff garb. “Nice Jedi cosplay, Kid. Good makeup. But Twi’leks only have two lekku. Not, tentacle hair.” Waiting in line, the blue alien girl pointed to her wink with a nimble head tendril. “I’m Rixla, an original character!” “We’re trapped,” Maka said. “This is an airlock-only cargo hold, and we don’t have a vacsuit.” Gorp stood. “I’ll go.” “But—” Three meters of living stone moved humans aside. “Turz are not like you, soft friend. Our hijackers will soon know this too. Painfully.” Morteval stopped in the school hall. “I had expected a trio of teens.” Flanked by a wand wielding librarian and a gym teacher with a glowing baseball bat, the wizard principal shook his head. “In America, vanquishing dark lords is a faculty responsibility.” Flashing graphics and beeping noise fill the empty arcade museum. “As a kid, I was too afraid to risk saving you for real.” The 8-bit princess on the screen has aged with me. “I’m still here. Help me.” I insert the magic quarter. “Player one is ready.”