The Ten-Minute Sarien Encounter
by Decaffeinated Jedi (based on a story by Mark Crowe and Scott Murphy)

Author's note: Perhaps some of you have heard of (or even attended) a 10-Minute Shakespeare performance. For those you that haven't, these events usually feature a series of Shakespeare's plays condensed into quick (usually somewhat humorous) ten-minute versions of the original. Anyway, I thought that I might try something similar with the Space Quest series. Hence, here's the first of my offerings: The Ten-Minute Sarien Encounter! Please note that the following story contains spoilers. That being said, I hope that you enjoy it.


Roger: "Er... eh? What was that sound? It sounded like laser fire. Oh, well... it was probably nothing. Back to sleep!"


(Time passes.)

Roger: "Man, oh, man--there's nothing like a refreshing nap. Now, a nice stroll around the ship will help to clear my mind. What's that alarm sound, anyway? Oops...sorry I didn't see you lying there. Uh-oh... Jerry, are you okay? No... I guess not. Something very strange is going on here. Let me grab that keycard and be on my way."

Roger: "What's that sound? Marching? Better duck into the library. What are you doing here professor? You don't look so well..."

Scientist: "Sariens... invaded ship... took Star Generator... astral body."

Roger: "Could you run that by me again?"

Scientist: "Croak."

Roger: "I guess not. Oh, well...astral body, huh? That sounds like a retrival code for the ship's library.'s the cartridge now. Might as well take it with me...wherever it is that I'm going. Maybe I should head down to the shuttle bay and try to escape. D'oh! Here come some Sarien stormtroopers. Better duck into this elevator. There...I'm down to the lower level. Let me just open the pod bay doors and head down to the shuttlebay. Thanks for the keycard, Jerry!"

Roger: "Let me grab a spacesuit... perfect! There's one left in here, and it just happens to fit. Now, a translator gadget might come in handy wherever I'm going, too. Out to the shuttlebay! This panel seems to raise the pod. There we go! Now, I'll just hop in and buckle my seatbelt. I wonder what this "Do Not Touch" button does. I probably shouldn't touch it, though. I'll just set the AutoNav system and head out."


Roger: "That was a close one! What this coming up? Kerona? Sounds like a good place to get a drink. Let me just take her down nice and gently..."


Roger: "Oh, well... it's not like they teach this stuff at janitorial school. Besides, any landing that you walk away from is a good one. Now, let me grab this survival kit and this shard of glass from the wreckage. There's nothing like walking around with broken glass in your pocket. Now, I think I'll wander around a bit. Wait... what's that in the sky? By the ghost of Mr. Clean--it's a SpiderDroid! Fortunately, it doesn't seem to want to follow me up on this ridge, though. That's a strange rock formation at the top of the ridge; maybe I should get a closer look. WHOA, NELLY!"


Roger: "Where am I now? What are these caves doing underground? Well, I guess that all caves are technically underground. You knew what I meant! That's an awesome looking rock over there, though. I think I'll take it. Ah... a bit of underground grating. There's a horrible stench coming out of there. I wish I had my trusty all-purpose disinfectant right now. Cripes! There's some sort of tentacled creature down there. Maybe I should just inch along the wall. There we go! This rock is really weighing me down, though. I think I'll just set it down here on this geyser. Hey, that opened a secret door! Maybe I'll see where it goes."

Roger: "Sigh... there's a laser beam blocking my path. Wait a second... I can try to refract the beam using this piece of glass. It worked! Now, up the path. It looks like the ceiling is dripping a bit through here. Yipes! That drop burned a hole right through the tip of my boot. Better dodge these."

Roger: "Wow! This room sure is dark. Wait... it's a gigantic head."

Alien: "Mfdsasdiqqr fdafwed dscmdfwq dfqwekfda cnfjffaq iooeerfas?"

Roger: "Uh...could you repeat the question? Maybe I should turn on this translator thingie."

Alien: "Adferwq fnmdsa vnmdsfa and slay the mighty Orat."

Roger: "Riiiight. What's an Orat?"


Roger: "I'm back on the surface. Now, I just have to find an Orat. Maybe I might find some clues in that cave over there. SWEET FANCY KETCHUP! That's gotta be an Orat. Oh, no! The SpiderDroid followed me in here, too. I'm gonna dive behind this rock and get to work on kissing my butt goodbye."

SpiderDroid: "Bleep... bleep... bleep..."

Orat: "Grr..."

SpiderDroid: "BOOM!"

Orat: "SPLAT!"

Roger: "Just as I planned! Yum...Orat giblets. I'll take one of those. Now, I just need to get back to see that alien. Back up the ridge, back down the chute, back across the grate, back through the acid drips, and here I am! Oh, no... it was nothing. Really. Hey, you're not so scary after all. A skimmer? Sure I'd love one! I notice you have a data cartridge port over there. Mind if I check out this cartridge before I leave."

Roger: "Wow... this is worse than I thought. I've got to stop the Sariens from using the Star Generator to wipe out the entire galaxy. At least I have the self-destruct code now. Thanks again for the skimmer! See you later!"


Roger: "There sure are a lot of--THUD--rocks here on--THUD--Kerona. Ah...there's a settlement in the distance. Ulence Flats, eh? Sounds lovely! Let me just park my skimmer. Oh, you want to buy my skimmer? Not for that price, I'm afraid. You'll throw in a jetpack, too? If I'm going to be a space hero, I'll need a jetpack. It's a deal! Now, let's check out this bar. Great--a slot machine! Let me just give this a whirl..."

(More time passes.)

Roger: "Woo-hoo! I broke the bank! It also looks like I broke the machine. I hope nobody noticed. Now that I have a few extra buckazoids, I think I might have a drink. Or two. Or three. What's that I overheard? A Sarien battlecruiser was spotted near Sector HH? That's where I need to be. First, I'll need a ship, though. There's a used ship lot now! How convenient. Since I recently came across a large sum of buckazoids, I'm only interested in the best ship that you have to offer. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Tiny!"

Roger: "Unfortunately, I don't know squat about piloting. I'd better get a navigational droid. Hey, there's the local Droids-R-Us! What luck! I'll take your finest navigational droid, my good man. Thank you! Man, you never shut up, do you? Now, follow me back to the ship. Let me get you loaded up. There we go! Now, plot a course for Sector HH. Hey, watch out for those asteroids, you bucket of bolts!"

Roger: "Wow...there's the Deltaur. Since this ship is pretty low on firepower, I guess I'll have to infiltrate it myself. Let me just slip on this jetpack...there we go. Now, I'll just let myself inside. Perfect! Uh-oh... I'm stuck here in the airlock. Wait! Here comes a cleaning droid. I'll just hop through the door when it reopens. Perfect! Now where am I? Come to think of it, I probably should be walking around in the open. I'm liable to have my entrails liberated by some Sarien guard. I'll just scoot this box over a bit, remove this grate and slip into the airducts. Let's see... crawl around a bit. This doesn't seem to go anywhere! I'll just kick out this grate and see where it leads."

Roger: "This looks like the Sarien laundry room. That's odd... all of the Sariens that I've encountered smell like they haven't washed their uniforms in years. Uh-oh! I hear footsteps! Where to hide, where to hide? I'll just have to dive into this washing machine. Crumbs... he's about to do his laundry. This is going to be a rough ride!"


Roger: "That smarted. Hey... whaddaya know? Through what must have been the most coincidental set of circumstances to occur in the history of the galaxy, that ride in the washing machine left me wearing some Sarien's uniform. It even fits just right--and it has an ID card in the back pocket. It's a little worse for wear from the washing machine, but it should do. I'll just slip on this helmet, and I should be able to walk around undetected. This ship schematic says that the armory is straight ahead. A weapon would probably be handy right about now. What's that over the railing here? It's the Star Generator! Perfect! It looks like there's a pretty big Sarien standing guard, though. Now, I definitely want to check out that armory."

Roger: "Here's my card, sir. I can guarantee you that I am, in fact, the Sarien named on that ID card and not some guy posing as him. I should grab one of these grenades while that droid isn't looking. Score! Now, that's better--a genuine Sarien pulseray to kick some genuine Sarien butt. Er... I mean to crush, er, other alien races under the, ah, heels of our boots... with? I'll just be going now."

Roger: "Now, if I can just aim this grenade right. Perfect! The concussion grenade knocked out the guard. I should be able to slip down there with no problem and activate the self-destruct code. I'm going to be a hero--if I get out of here, that is! Wow... a hero. I'll get all the girls if I'm--d'oh! I tripped! And lost my helmet! Things are about to get interesting. Cripes! There's a Sarien up ahead!"


Roger: "Got him! Now, I just have to get down to the Star Generator, and grab this remote control from the guard, and enter the self-destruct code from the cartridge. Perfect! Well, unless you count the fact that I only have a few minutes to escape. There has to be an escape pod around here somewhere. Ah... there's an elevator to the pod bay. D'oh! It's out of order. I don't really have time to put in a maintenance request, I suppose."


Roger: "That did the trick! Now, I'll just hop in this ship, turn the key, and get out of here!"


(A few days later.)

Xenonian Prime Minister: "For honor, bravery, action beyond the call of duty, and things of that sort, I reward you, Roger Wilco, with the Golden Mop of Xenon. Congratulations!"

Roger: "Wow... I don't know what to say. First, I'd like to thank--"

Xenonian Prime Minister: "Sorry, son. The ceremony's over. Enjoy your mop."


This story is ©; 2001 Decaffeinated Jedi.

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