Star Bores The Novel By Steve Barlow & Steve Skidmore (Microsoft Word version by The ScanMan) A story of unbelievable heroism, unspeakable villainy, and unlimited merchandising opportunities . . . Digitally remastered in PAGEOVISIONTM with SURROUNDWORDSTM May the Farce be with you! Copyright 1999, Element Children’s Books Star Bores is a parody. It is not authorized, endorsed, or licensed by LucasFilm Ltd. or anyone else connected with the Empire. Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far, far, far, away . . . Well, when we say long ago, we mean a fairly long time ago, not all THAT long ago – for instance, not right at the beginning of the Universe because everything was very hot then, and the highest form of life was a sort of worm that wasn’t much more intelligent than the average daytime TV host – but much longer ago than when you could wear polyester pants without being laughed at, or your last birthday. And when we say far away, we don’t mean all the way at the other end of the Universe – obviously, we wouldn’t know anything about it because of worm holes – but a lot farther than, say, the next rest stop on the freeway . . . Episode IV – A New Hype . . . Wait a minute – what do you mean, Episode IV? What do you mean, what do I mean? I mean what happened to Episodes I, II and III? Ah, well, you see, there are IX Episodes altogether . . . Did you say IX?! Yes – but we’ve got to start somewhere and I reckon Episode IV is a real humdinger . . . But why not start at Episode I? Aha! What? Aha! Could you be a bit more specific? If we start in the middle, where do we go from there? Well, I thought we could do the beginning next . . . The beginning? As a sequel to the middle? Well, it couldn’t be a sequel, could it, because it happens before. We’d have to call it a prequel. I call it ridiculous! Why can’t we just start at the beginning? Why indeed! Oh well, let’s just keep going, OK? Roll the credits . . . cue music . . . What do you mean, cue music? This is a book, we don’t have any music. Well, I’m sure the readers will want some music. What do they expect for a few measly bucks, the Boston Symphony Orchestra? Oh, well, if you insist: all together now . . . “Dah –dah Dadadad Deeeeee Dah Dadadad Deeeeee Dah Da da da daaaaaah . . .” The Empire is in turmoil. The Rebel forces of the Grand Order Of Democratic, Independent, Emancipated Societies (GOODIES) are at war With the Empire’s dreaded enforcement agency, The Bureau for the Advancement of Destruction, Depravity and Incredibly Evil Schemes (BADDIES). GOODIES spies have managed to steal the plans For the BADDIES’ new secret weapon, an amored Space station with the firepower to vaporize entire planets, known as the Moon of DoomTM. Fleeing from the dreaded BADDIES, Princess Liar Origami of the planet Alcapone knows that only She and the stolen plans she carries can bring Hope to the hard-pressed Rebels . . . Chapter One Gotcha! Patrolbeing Fibaci of the Galactic Police lounged in the saddle of his gleaming spacecycle as it hovered in a parking orbit behind a small asteroid. He was bored. Sector Omega was a dead-end assignment, far removed from the spaceways. Nothing ever happened out here. Fibaci was a Kojakian. Most of the officers in the Galactic Traffic Patrol were. Kojakians were the best cops in the galaxy because they each had a flashing blue light on top of their heads. They didn’t have a hat with a flashing blue light on top of their heads – they just had a flashing blue light on top of their heads. They were also dedicated, unimaginative, and easily bribed. In short, they were perfect for the job. Just as Fibaci was wondering whether to pursue his inquiries into the latest gangland slaying on the lawless planet of Toonilooni, or to scoot down to Al’s Cosmic Diner for a taco, a spaceship hurtled past doing at least Warp Eight. Fibaci glanced at the Speed Limit sign hovering just beyond his asteroid. It clearly said, “Warp 4”. Fibaci grinned to himself and lowered his visor. All righty! He twisted the handgrip to gun the bike’s powerful twin Ruggrat and Diaper PP3 engines, and rocketed out of his hiding place at Warp Nine. Fibaci grinned to himself as he bent low over the handlebars, the engines howling beneath him. From its markings, Fibaci identified the speeding vessel as a Senator’s ship. A speeding ticket for a Senator’s ship would lead to a big arrest – or a big bribe. Either way was fine with Fibaci. His blue light rotated faster with excitement. He switched his ultrasiren on. WoooWOooWOooWOooWOooWOoo . . . Seconds later, a high-powered customized Halley-Davidson spacebike rocketed past Fibaci as if he were standing still. It was followed by several huge wedge-shaped somethings. The wash from their mighty engines sent Fibaci’s tiny one-man spacecycle tumbling out of control. Desperately fighting his bucking machine, Fibaci plowed into an asteroid that seemed to consist entirely of mud . . . at least, Fibaci hoped it was mud. With a quivering tentacle, Patrolbeing Fibaci wiped glop from his eyes and started after the rapidly disappearing ships. “What in the galaxy was that?” he gasped. * * * * “That” was the fleet of Star Crushers commanded by Dark Visor. The Dread Lord leaned back in the leather saddle of his Megahog chopper, arms raised to the handlebars. Before him stretched the gleaming forks. Behind him swept the highly chromed exhaust, rumbling with barely contained power. Dark Visor’s cloak streamed behind him. He wore a tight-fitting suit of black plasti-leather, decorated with studs and chains. This mean-looking outfit gave protection against the deadly vacuum of space, laser fire, and even small meteorites. The Dread Lord changed down a gear with a booted foot, twisted the throttle with a gloved hand, and dove at the Senator’s ship, guns blazing. From the bridge of the leading Star Crusher, Admiral Pitta watched Dark Visor’s relentless attack on the defenceless vessel. “That is one mean dude,” he murmured. “Captain Needit nodded. “No lie!” The Admiral flicked a switch. His amplified voice boomed through the corridors of the Star Crusher. “Prepare to board the Senator’s ship.” Swarms of armored Stomptroopers hurried to obey. * * * * Aboard the Senator’s ship, all was chaos. Princess Liar Origami staggered as the stricken vessel swayed and juddered under the withering hail of fire. Captain Antifreeze strode onto the bridge. “Abandon ship!” he ordered. “Women and children first!” Liar whirled to face the panic-stricken commander. “Captain, will you please take off that dress, put down that teddy bear, and listen to me?” “The deflector shields are down,” moaned the Captain. “No, they’re not,” said the Princess confidently. “Yes they are,” insisted Captain Antifreeze. “We’ll be boarded any minute!” “No, we won’t. Chill out, Antifreeze. We’ll be landing on Alcapone soon.” The Captain bit his nails. “This ship isn’t going to make it to Alcapone. The plans you’re carrying will never reach the Rebels. We’re all doomed. Doomed!” He raced from the bridge shouting, “Make way for Teddy! Bear coming through!” Alone on the deserted bridge, Princess Liar stood in thought for a moment. Then she beckoned to a small droid, waiting in the shadows. “Doo-weep?” * * * * Dark Visor strode through the corridors of the captured ship, his boot heels striking sparks from the deck. His rasping breath echoed from the walls. He halted as two Stomptroopers appeared, dragging a struggling figure. Princess Liar glared up at the Dread Lord. “Dark Visor!” she snapped. “You’ve got some nerve coming here.” Visor stared down at her. “Well, well. If it isn’t Minnie Mouse.” “Leave my hairstyle out of this!” Liar stamped her foot. Two more troopers approached, marching two droids at gunpoint. One looked like a moving garbage can; the other was a humanoid shape. It slouched along in a surly fashion, muttering sourly to itself. “We found these two hiding in the cargo bay, sir,” reported the leading trooper. The Dread Lord turned to the humanoid droid. “I see you’re a diplomatic droid.” “Yes indeed, sir. Politeness is my middle name.” The humanoid robot’s metallic features suddenly twisted into a sneer. “Mind you, my first name is ‘Drop’ and my last name is ‘Dead,’ copper.” The droid spat a drop of oil onto one of Visor’s polished boots. Visor pointed a finger at the droid. An arc of electric fire leaped from his hand, and the ill-mannered machine gave a screech of electronic agony. “Oh, I am sorry sir. I seem to have a malfunction in my politeness chip . . . you big palooka! Oops! I do apologize again,” whined the droid. “I’m Doe Raymefar, and this bucket of bolts here,” he paused to give the smaller droid a vicious kick, “is Sola Teedoe.” The small droid snarled, “Drathatfrattlerat.” Then it snickered. “Hih hih hih hih . . . beep.” Visor gave an irritated gesture. “Dispose of them.” Princess Liar began to struggle again. “Leave them alone!” she yelled. Visor gave her a considering look. “So, these droids are of value to you? Then you can save them by telling me where you have hidden the plans.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The Dread Lord took the Princess’s chin in one gloved hand. “I think you do. I mean the plans for the Empire’s new secret weapon, the ones that were stolen by GOODIES spies and passed on to you.” “You’ll never pin that rap on me, Visor.” “We shall see. So, what shall I do with your droids?” “Leave them out of this.” “I think...
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