Quasarski

The view from the Lizard-Dudes perspective!

 

     Look out there; if we weren't on our way to kick some unintelligent a*s, eradicate them from this basically useless sector of space, I'd almost say it was beautiful, but we are, so there's no point in sightseeing.  My name is classified under section 12 of the Herkonian Secrecy Act, but at the risk of death, I'll tell you my name is Fallopian Quasarski.  I'm willing to risk death because I feel it's important to tell what's really happening here.  See, the trut---"

 

     "Shut up right now; at the risk of being thrown out the airlock!  I order you to put down that holocorder!"

 

    

******

 

 

     Entry in the private journal of Captain Gregar Jobhernia:

 

     "Why, that little smart-a*s Quasarski; he just can't keep his blowhole shut.  I caught him spouting off his real name and about to disclose our sensitive, secret actual reason for kicking Earth's a*s (we know it's called Earth from intercepted broadcasts from the planet's surface.  We've been monitoring this planet for years!).  We tell other Herkonians that we're doing it because the place is infested with slope-headed, irrelevant vermin-beings who must be disposed of, but the truth is, we need this planet as an outpost for Sector Fifty Five; this may be thought of as an irrelevant, piss ant frontier planet, and that's exactly what it is, but Sector Fifty Five is the last quadrant of space where we have no outpost, and besides, the beings populating this s**t hole are among the ugliest f*****s this side of Herconia; the other side too.  Imagine, two  legs, so they're perpetually erect; walking upright; how useless is that?"

 

 

******

 

 

     I'll don my kneepads and kiss Jobhernia's leathery backside, letting him know that I'll follow his order, but screw that!  Sure, I gave him my holocorder, but not before I secretly saved all my writing to my groin-top computer.  All Herkonia must learn that their government is playing on their darkest fears in order to push their own agenda.  It's like the intercepted transmissions from Earth, with the government there saying a certain country needed to be invaded because of dark intent, when it was total bullshit!  It just goes to show you that governments everywhere use misleading propaganda to suit there own agenda, not just Herkonia.  Anyway, there's no way I'm caving.  I'm a harpsy-blower, letting you the Herkonian citizenry learn the truth. 

 

 

******

 

 

     Now we're in the landing shuttle, heading for the surface of the ble-green orb. 

 

  

     Now the landing craft doors are opening and we're rolling down the ramp.  I've reached the ground, a mixture of dirt, grass, although the grass here is green, and gravel.  The green-colored grass about sums up this suck-a*s planet; freaky.  Everything is bazaar; it's like an alien world, with the emphasis heavy on alien.  If I wasn't aware of the actual reason, it would make one wonder, WHY are we here?  WHY would we even want this s**t-hole?  Granted, the beings who inhabit this place are freaky little vermin, but anyone with half a brain can see they're absolutely no threat to us.  I mean, I don't even think they're even aware of our existence; they only have just begun space flight, and while I'm sure it seems like a big deal to them, it's a bit like pissing in the ocean, sure, it fouls a few gallons right around there, but in the big scheme of things, it doesn't make a jack s**t hill of urine.

 

 

******

 

 

    I have yet to fire my laser; I don't want to hurt anybody; I keep putting myself in their place.  These erect f*****s are just going to work, or something, one minute, and the next alien reptile people (which is how they must view us) are blowing them away for reasons unknown.  No way!

 

 

******

 

 

     Now the battle is over; although calling it a battle is a bit like calling Herkonia just another planet, not the center of the universe.  Battle, my a*s, it consisted of us mowing them down by the millions.  They never had a chance.  Poor hapless b******s.  Their 'defenses' were a cluster-f**k of ineptitude.  The next step will be landing dozers to sweep their mutilated carcasses into giant holes, and filling in tons of dirt on top of them.  After a while, no one will be able to tell they were even here.  Once we doze the butt ugly structures they built, and replace them with functional, useful structures that actually serve a purpose, it'll be like we've always been here.  Oh no, here comes that major dick head Jobhernia; what the hell does he want?

 

  

     "Quasarki, I've been told by others that you never even fired your weapon, is this true?  Explain yourself!"

 

    Oh s**t!  "Ah, it was jammed, sir, completely useless."

 

    "Bullshit!"

 

 

******

 

 

     So here I sit, writing my bitter thoughts from the brig; Jobhenia had me arrested and charged with being a coward.  A coward, because I refused to slaughter innocent beings, even if they were only erect freaks?  Jobheria can suck my left hind leg!  I suppose I should be grateful they let me keep the holocorder, but I know what I write here will never see the light of day; b******s will just delete it.  But, it gives me something to keep my mind occupied at least!

   

Reviews

[Marie]

This was auite an interesting war, although I hate to read of humans described as ugly vermin. Heaven knows what the Herkonians look like.

I was rather hoping that Quasarki would find a way to stop it; he deserved a better fate.

[Michael Stevens]

Thanks Marie, yeah, he deserved better, but I'm in a BAD mood; lol!